#back to my coloring nonsense lol

[books-books-smolderinglooks]

Boyfriends now.. 🧡🧡

[rubberbandballqueen]

favorite part of work today was when i told the kids to get into two lines, n this one guy was like "i don't want to" n then started talking to his buddy in mandarin, n so then in chinese i was like, "hey, come here."

n he n his buddy looked at each other n then looked at me with like that faintly displeased expression that means they've realized they can't get away with not being that good at english (or feel terribly isolated from n indifferent to the adults bc they don't speak their language) anymore

and then when i told them to line up in mandarin they groaned abt it for sure but they did drag themselves into a line

[thatlotuscookie]

ok ok, hear me out, hear me out I swear-

a Haikyuu character who's a teacher(you pick which one bc I am indecisive lol) who students don't like because they assign too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating

✧･ﾟ: a/n: hiii thank you for the req anon! i choseTsukishima Kei x art teacher!fem reader cause why not :) sorry for the wait, it got a little busy. please enjoy and thank you for requestinng <3

✧ Title: ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations ✧ ✧ Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. ✧ Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor ✧ WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars

Mr. Tsukishima Kei was known as the strict, no-nonsense math teacher, infamous for assigning challenging homework and expecting punctuality from his students. Across the hall, however, was Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher who taught in a classroom full of painted murals, plants, and knick-knacks. Her students affectionately called her “Auntie,” loving her warm personality and encouraging nature.

Despite their differences, the two had quietly been dating for some time now, keeping things subtle so as not to spark gossip in the school hallways. But as careful as they tried to be, some moments were just too sweet to hide from their observant students.

Every morning, Tsukishima would stop by Y/N’s room before classes started. Though their relationship was mostly kept under wraps, there was one routine they couldn’t help but share—he’d bring her coffee, just the way she liked it, and stay for a few moments before his first class.

One particular morning, a student passing by happened to catch sight of them. Y/N was sitting at her desk, fiddling with paintbrushes while Tsukishima leaned against the edge of her desk, coffee cup in hand. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he handed her the coffee.

“Thank you, Kei! You know, I think your coffee runs are the best part of my day.”

“Maybe if you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t need this much caffeine,” he replied, rolling his eyes, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Bedtime? Reasonable? You’re talking to an artist, Kei!” She chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock cheers.

The student who’d witnessed it ran back to their friends, spilling the details in hushed, excited whispers. “Guys, Auntie totally has Mr. Tsukishima wrapped around her finger. He’s bringing her coffee like it’s a daily thing!”

During lunch breaks, Tsukishima would sometimes slip away from the teachers’ lounge and make his way to Y/N’s art room, which was usually open to students who wanted to work on projects or just hang out with their favorite teacher. Though he’d never admit it out loud, Tsukishima was growing fond of this habit too.

One afternoon, Y/N was holding a brush in each hand, struggling to finish a mural one of her classes had started. Tsukishima approached, watching her for a moment as she fumbled with paint colors.

“Need a hand?” he asked, taking one of the brushes out of her grasp without waiting for an answer. He began painting in neat, deliberate strokes, adding to the vibrant, playful mural.

“Mr. Tsukishima,” Y/N grinned, “are you sure you can handle all this color?”

He just shrugged, pretending to be annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at ladders.”

The students present watched with wide eyes as their usually stern math teacher helped their beloved art teacher, even taking her playful teasing without so much as a sigh. “Is he… actually smiling?” one student whispered, amazed. “And helping her paint? They’re definitely dating.”

On Fridays, Y/N would stay late to finish up art projects, often leaving well after most of the other teachers had already gone home. But one evening, as she was cleaning up her brushes, she was startled by a familiar voice at the door.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay this late alone?” Tsukishima’s tone was gentle, though there was a hint of concern.

“Oh, but I had just one more layer of glaze to apply! I didn’t want to leave it unfinished,” she replied, smiling sheepishly.

Tsukishima sighed and moved to take some of the supplies from her hands, setting them aside. “That can wait. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They left together, but not before another student, leaving basketball practice, caught sight of them walking side by side down the hallway, Tsukishima’s hand brushing hers in a quiet, comforting gesture.

“Did you see that?” the student whispered to a friend the next day. “Mr. Tsukishima totally waited for Auntie after school. He’s such a softie for her.”

When Field Day rolled around, Y/N was the designated supervisor for the art activities station. Her students flocked to her booth, excited to paint, tie-dye, and get a break from competitive games. Tsukishima, though not usually one for field activities, had somehow found himself “volunteered” to help out at her station by none other than Y/N herself.

At first, he’d tried to stay in the background, sorting supplies and ensuring everything was organized. But as more students lined up, Y/N pulled him over to assist with face painting. “Come on, Kei, it’s fun! Don’t be so serious,” she teased, handing him a paintbrush.

He gave her a long-suffering look but, after a few convincing nudges, gave in. Soon, students were giggling at the sight of Mr. Tsukishima painting bright flowers and animals on their cheeks.

“Mr. Tsukishima, can you paint a dragon?” one student asked, grinning. And to everyone’s surprise, Tsukishima nodded, actually putting in the effort to paint a rather impressive dragon.

Meanwhile, Y/N leaned in close, watching him with a proud smile. “See? I knew you had a colorful side.”

The students at the booth exchanged knowing looks, watching the way Tsukishima’s gaze softened every time he looked at Y/N. One bold student whispered, “They’re definitely together. I think Auntie’s the only person who could get him to paint a dragon.”

The biggest reveal came on Y/N’s birthday. Her classroom was decorated with student-made banners, handmade cards, and small, thoughtful gifts from her students. But the real surprise came when Tsukishima walked in with a bouquet of wildflowers, which he set on her desk, much to the shock of her students.

“Kei…” Y/N murmured, her eyes shining with surprise. “You didn’t have to—”

“Happy Birthday, Auntie,” he said simply, giving her a small, genuine smile before glancing pointedly at the students, who were watching, open-mouthed. He gave them his usual glare but, seeing the excitement in their eyes, eventually gave up on hiding it.

And with that, the students finally had their confirmation. They all whispered to each other excitedly, some even daring to give Tsukishima approving thumbs-up. From that day on, Tsukishima’s “monster math teacher” title softened in their eyes. He was still strict and demanding, but he was also the teacher who went out of his way to make their “Auntie” happy.

As the weeks went by, more little moments started to unfold between them—moments the students watched eagerly, as if they were witnessing a real-life romance. And while Tsukishima might not have been the most affectionate in public, he showed his care in small, steady ways, making sure Y/N was looked after and supported in the little things.

[florasvenus]

My Sweet Little Demon

Pairing : So’Lek x Na’vi (Avatar) Female!Reader

Warnings : Smut, Sexual/ Explicit Contents, Slight Fluff, Posessive attitude, So’lek and reader in Love, p in v Slight agressive behaviour, swearing and that should be it.

A/ N : Hello Everyone! I hope you’ll like this story. I originally come from AO3. Mostly surfing on there, but I decided to take a look here and found the vibe pretty nice. I decided to write this So’lek fic because I obviously got obsessed with him and I guess not having the game contributed to it even more for some reason? Plus I am very obsessed with Neteyam too as I just watched the movie again, so it all restarted lol. I hope I'll be forming a nice community here. For now this will be it. Smooch 💕💙

Index : Tawtute = Human/ SkyPerson | Nga yawne lu oer = I love you

Nga yawne lu oer...

Nga yawne lu oer~

You pronounce together, looking profoundly in eachothers irises. Each of them a pure yellow color. Dark pupils dancing in the golden sky. So’lek kisses with lust the slight swell of your stomach, slowling traiking up to suck on one of your hardened nipples. He quits it with a small pop, the humid glaze of left on it making them more enticing than they already were. He sits up on his heels, after your long make out session. As he leans back, his erected cock bobs and twitches in anticipation. Without any shame you glide the flat of your hand over his torso, down his abs until you grab his throbbing dick showing a delightful bead of pre-cum. You slowly caress him and he lets his head fall back, locks danfling down, waving down at his round ass contracting in need. With a swallow he recovers and adjust himself, ready to enter your beautiful flower.

So’lek pierces the breach of your dripping entrance with a low growl. Gritting his teeth to the point of grinding, he lets out a jerky breath at the sight of his pretty tawtute spread out for him beneath his thick, masculine frame. He tightens his grip around your thighs, whitening his knuckles even more, and spreads your legs with surprising grace, considering everything about him radiates strength, endurance and certainly not softness. He looks at you with hooded eyes and a snarl is blown to your nose, contrasting the care he's been laying on you since you both started to make out in the lushious Pandoran greens.

You’d been such a brat. Such a fucking bitch, with your human lips, pouring endless words of nonsense. Such a tawtute manner, he thinks bitterly, though he couldn’t contain how much he loved this about you. And this was one of the reasons he fell in love with you. Your vivid mind never ceased to impress himself, as he always believed humans had a weak and poor thinking brain. But this was not true for you. You were able of so much introspection and impressive deductions that you couldn't stop yourself from talking during the whole day, yet with wisdom. You had this way of speaking every thought. As beautiful as it was, it could seriously piss him off after a long day amongst the clan warriors. And today was one of these, were the strenght of his nerves weren't enough to mirror your sense of verbal connection, but just enough to pound the attitude out of you.

Sky Demon oh so delicate and gracious, that it was able to break the stiff wall of his long lasting beliefs. Sky Demon, oh so pure hearted, made him fucking feel what love was and felt the ground crumble under his feet since the day he met you. Sky Demon, oh so sincere and kind, able to knock the most harsh feelings he always felt towards any of your kind out of his lungs. And Sky Demon, so unbelievably true to herself, made him drool at the curious idea of how such a being could ressemble to one of his kind. You truly were the person proving him wrong on the fact that it wasn't your source, your race nor your home that should make you an enemy. But it was the hearts of those rejecting Eywas truth that had to be feared and chased.

As you were learning him to see the world through a different way and less darkened eyes without changing his aspects. He himself, showed you how much you deserved to be loved, even how far down you fell and how unalive you used to feel. Originally from earth, you arrived on Pandora by the mission to seek out new ways of life. Finding a way to save humanity without any harm. You then were attributed to your own avatar. Everything was fine until, the higher people, controlling the plan, lost their mind and you decided to flee into the forest and then you met So’lek. Luckily you had found a way to transfer your soul for good in your blue grand form and said goodbye to your human form without any regret, as you never felt any glimmer living this life of human roots. This amplified by the days you had the chance to live amongst them, as the tsahik saw something true and pure in your soul.

Back on earth, the world is destroyed and getting the chance to leave for Pandora, was like the four petal clove found in the endless pain field. A gift from the universe you never awaited and in distress needed. You smile everyday at this chaotic story and at how it somehow worked and shaped into the most beautiful story to share, with quite the amusing anecdotes. Like you loved to and it was utmost crazy to see that maybe yes. The universe always had a plan for you, by the way such uncompatible puzzle pieces still locked into place together. Or by the way two completely different souls managed to pull together easely. In the end, the only language is still love. And it will be the hymn of the universe forever.

His warm calloused and soothing palms craddle the little fat of your legs, calming your racing heart as he tries to penetrate deeper and deeper into your intimate warmth. Your labias spread evenly as his dick slides in you with difficulty. You two weren't having intercourses for long so it was only normal as you in addition were very tight to begin with. You're so damn tight, he thinks. But he regrets his thoughts, feeling how good your walls kiss the skin of his member. So tight, that he could even feel the rythmic beat of his heart down there. Deep pulse gaining speed with each second passed and as the most carnal needs grow. He sighs erotically, stopping his way inside for a second and taking his time admiring you. Everything in you radiates light and Love and he now couldn't even dare to imagine living without you. When he first met you, he had this irrepressible urge to cut of off your devil hands. Five fingers, the art of destruction, but today as knowing who you were inside, he only wants them to be feeled on evey inch of his skin.

Reaching down to hold one of your hands up, he put your small finger into his hot mouth, sucking on it hard while humming unintelligible sounds. Praising this part of you today was something important. Maybe was it out of guilt, but it wasn't something to ignore at how it just fueled desire powerfully by just a small actions as simple as this. The way it delivered trust and love around the air, was a drunk dizzying feeling. But you both loved to feel succumbed under such circumstances.

You look up in awe, squirming at his bold chest glistening with sweat and at the way his pecs contract with each fast inhale. As you move you can feel the resistance in your core, jolting at the way it sends electricity to your heart and you mewl at the way his warm tongue swirls around your slender petite finger. The rough surface of his tongue momentarely stops as you clench down on him, only to fully decontract yourself and finally letting his way easely in. Exactly how he planned to. You were so putty under his touch and he loved this. Loved to feel so masculine and viril in such a tender and yet feminine moment.

You moan, body wriggling at the size of his member resuming his ascencion down your belly, slowly forming a bulge without struggle. Given his posture, it's never been strange that he'd come away with such a large, long size and length. But as always, theory surpasses reality. And right now, it's the practitioner who's got the upper hand. An expert in the art, So’lek revels in your face as it contracts in innocent pleasure, and despite your pain, the oh so delectable stretch of his greatness evokes a sensation of intense well-being.

His voice breaks the silence only punctuated by heavy breaths. Pronounced accent and long vocal chords, and so on low growl, expressing their intention.

Look at you.... My beautiful Tawtute~ So ready and wet for me... He breathes in emotion with a smile while whispering just below your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sweet spot, before lapping at it like a starving man. You shiver, cold spikes travelling down your spine in an addicting way. Mouth long release of its favorite finger, he still caresses it with his own and pins it down just over your head, vanishing into the dark chocolate hair of yours splayed into the humid ground into a captivating canvas.

He enters slowly, letting your body adjust bit by bit. The vein of his dick slides through the membrane of your throbbing hole until it is stopped by the bump of your cervix. You moan in unison, ragged breaths escaping your luscious lips, coated with a thin film of saliva. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open as he maintains a steady rhythm. So'lek slides out of you, then gently in, testing the waters again and again. But as soon as your walls get wetter and the desired slick accumulates at the base of his stiffness, he begins a merciless rhythm that frees never heard harsh sounds from your mouth, vibrating on your tongue rarely, with each thrusts.

He lifts your hips, embracing the bulge of your bottom, and the new angle forces a long, desperate whimper out of him. The whole scene would have been obscene, between the dry tumults of his pubic bone slapping the soft down of your pussy and the grumbles escaping So’leks throat, it’s more than a mystery. Only you can bring him to do that. Be so free of his emotional restrains and that's what makes this moment so profound. And this is exactly what makes him angry too. Fortunately, you're hidden in a rocky alcove near a river that blocks out any auditory vibrations. And the headwaters of the waterfall muffle the voluminous muses of your companion, lost in an almost animal trance.

Your arms are now limp, framing your lulling face, enamoured with an expression of aggressively delicious pleasure. Your cheeks blaze with a new colour, a bright red, growing in intensity as the knot in the pit of your stomach becomes more and more oh so fucking good tensed. Noxiously more.

So’lek rises to his knees, lifting his bottom up, this new position much more within reach of an intoxicating act. Sinking deeper into the sweet warmth that has become a necessity at this stage of your shared passions, you can feel your body bounce with each stroke. Only your bobbing shoulder blades are connected to the sacred humid soil. Only witness next to the curious lifting leaves.

This goes on for minutes until the familiar sensation of orgasm approaches. Your face contorts in shock, letting out a melodious gasp as it arrives, and in a desperate gesture you reach out your arms, searching in vain for something to cling on, your eyes closed. Your upper limbs fall back onto the sumptuous floral carpet with a flat thud, convulsing with pleasure as the overstimulated nerves finally relax with a well-placed dip. Your first orgasm is like a firework exploding on your erect bud. Your second cuts you off from all air, arriving like an uncontrolled tsunami, and the last. Oh, the last one. You see it coming, but as it shoots its first gusts into the centre, it develops into a veritable firestorm. Burns your being up to the depths of your core, embrace you to the tips of your toes.

You see white as the last exhilarating breeze fades and you whine at the overstimulation. So’lek is still chasing his climax, frustrating shouts echoing off the stone walls that clatter in the suffocating atmosphere. All his muscles tense, his cock throbs and his balls contract unbelievably close to his crotch. He gives it all until the pulsation of his member points its knowing pump and in one last stroke he glues your two pelvises flush together and empties his seed directly into your womb, staying there.

You both semi-giggle in a transe, lost in your sensations. You feel his warm seed fill you to the brim, finally able to take a complete breath, whilst he lets his head fall down, groaning at the amazing way to claim you, that his to fuck you dumb until his cum paints your leaking walls.

Missions accomplished. You are exhausted, eyes fluttering in a way to try and keep them open. Long lashes shadowing the little of sight you are able to get. Wanting to watch the beauty of this man after he'd use you and worshipped you whole. Soul to Mind, to Body, to Spirit, to every inch of Life living inside of you. This always leads him in a charming sweet way to be and there is no way you'd miss it. To bad, turns out he fucked you too good. Now you can't even open your eyes the way you should...

You awake the second he pulls out though and exhale an annnoyed complain. He chuckles as he heavily lays down next to you, wrapping his big arms around your sweating body, trailing them along your curves and enjoying the after care time. So’lek loves to relish in the smell and sensitive skin of yours. Damp and buttery from the effort, your scent is stronger making the world around him satisfyingly disappear even more.

You sigh, happy to have him near you for once. It isn't often you get the time to succumb to your wants and it feels good when you can. You nuzzle your cheek against his, shiny orbs waiting for his owns to connect with. And when they do, your heart swells with love. So’lek can be seemed as a brute and careless man for the simple by walkers, as he is very dominant looking. But in truth he's the teddiest of all Teddy Bears. He smiles, showing off his sharp fangs, and cups your jaw with attention.

He prepars to lean in and kiss you, but the movement of your lips stop him. Look at you... My beautiful Na’vi~ You reflect his previous words with playfulness, ears flicking and fluttering. So ready and wet for me... You joke by reusing his words, looking down at his blue and oh so tempting lips. With a groan, he looks up unimpressed. You just can't stop youself and talk nonsense, do you, he thinks. He smiles at the thought, though he would never admit, that it is you, with you never ending blabber, that got him out of solitude.

You let him lean in and as he devours your mouth again, holding your neck, he lingers there until both of you are out of air for a second time.

Now. If you want to be this bratty again... He pauses and grins. What if I show the consequences of it? Again~

You cup his growing naked bulge and smirk. He gasps, amazed at how you caught his words and the implying behind them so rapidly.

Oh... I would love to. My beloved Teddy Bear~

©️ FlorasVenus

[dandylovesturtles]

I should be in bed lol but I wanted to write a turtle tot sick fic so here

I went into this with no plan and it ended up uh. way sadder than I intended. whoops.

cw: mentions of vomit

...

Blue slept through naptime. That should have been Splinter's first clue.

In the moment, he'd just been so happy to actually have four sleeping children that he'd taken the opportunity for his own nap, the old, tattered storybook he'd been reading them draped over his face. He never managed to get Blue to wind down enough to sleep, so he usually had to quietly entertain him with books or the tv on low until the others woke up. But his Baby Blue had conked out almost immediately today, and soon Splinter was snoozing right along with them.

Blue was also the last to wake up. That should have been the second clue.

Splinter was woken up by Orange, talking in loud, disjointed sentences with plenty of nonsense words as he played with an old plastic telephone Splinter had found them. Red was racing his toy cars, making his own sound effects as they skid across the floor and crashed into the wall. Only Purple was quiet, industriously sorting his legos by color and size.

Splinter sat up, letting the book slide off his face, and took stock. It was surprising to see Blue still curled up against his leg even in the midst of all the racket his brothers were making. "Blue?" he said softly, giving the little turtle a nudge. Blue blinked his eyes open, groggily looking around. "Naptime is over."

Blue pushed himself up into a sitting position, then rubbed clumsily at his eyes. He looked so tired still that Splinter debated telling him he could keep sleeping, even if it might make putting him to bed later more difficult.

But once Blue was up, he saw Red racing his cars and pushed quickly to his feet, hurrying over to join in the game. Almost immediately he was demanding Red hand over one of the cars and setting up an elaborate make-believe track for their race, so Splinter let it go.

Thirty minutes later, Blue tugged on Splinter's old sweatpants and said, "Daddy, my tummy hurts." In hindsight, this is exactly when Splinter should have put it together.

But the kids rarely got sick - a benefit of whatever Draxum had put in the gunk that turned them into this, Splinter assumed. Which was a blessing, because he was pretty limited in what medicine he could get in his condition. The boys having a hearty immune system was one of the few things Splinter had going for him.

So he hadn't moved to that conclusion. Instead he said, "Do you need to go potty?" and Blue had considered that very seriously for a few seconds before nodding and rushing off to the bathroom.

Orange threw the plastic phone into Purple's meticulously organized lego piles and Splinter moved on to the next crisis without another thought.

It was at dinner, when he caught Blue pushing his food (mac'n'cheese!) around without interest, that it finally clicked that maybe he should be worried.

"Blue, what's wrong?"

Blue didn't so much as look up. He shrugged, swirling his noodles around and around.

Splinter would be embarrassed to admit how long it took him to remember their earlier conversation, but it eventually came back to him. "Ah... Is your stomach still hurting?"

Blue's face scrunched up in misery, and he nodded.

Splinter groaned in exasperation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did!"

"I mean after you went potty."

Blue grimaced. Instead of answering, he scooped up some mac'n'cheese and stuffed it in his mouth. He looked like he regretted it as soon as he'd done it.

"Do not spit that out," said Splinter immediately, because mac'n'cheese was one of the few things Purple would eat and if Blue spat it out in front of him it would go on his Bad Foods list for at least a month. And Orange had a habit of mimicking anything Blue did, which would only compound the problem.

Blue chewed and swallowed the mouthful agonizingly slowly. He looked so miserable afterward that Splinter felt bad about it.

"Are you going to throw up, Blue?" he asked, and got a furious head shake in response. "Are you just telling me that?" Another shake. "Do you want to keep eating?" A third shake. Splinter sighed and took his bowl from him. "Alright. I'll put this in the fridge, if you want it later."

Their mini-fridge was already stuffed full, but Splinter would simply have to make space, or throw all this mac'n'cheese out. He wished they had a bigger fridge, but just getting this back to the juncture in the sewers he called a home had been difficult enough.

He wished he had a bigger fridge. He wished he had a house. He wished he had a pediatrician to take Blue to. He wished he wasn't a rat man. He wished he and his kids were... normal.

It was a bad thought. He knew that as soon as he thought it, and he tried to push it down. The kids didn't need to know they weren't normal. That none of this was normal. He knew that, but...

"Throw up?" he heard Purple say, and then the telltale sound of him pushing his bowl away. Mac'n'cheese was on the Bad Foods list. Splinter groaned.

...

He found their old thermometer after the boys were finished eating. Getting a temperature from Blue was near impossible because he moved it around too much or spat it out before time was up, but Splinter would have to do his best.

After three tries, he got a reading that seemed accurate enough. Blue's body ran colder than a human child's, and it had taken observation and trial and error for Splinter to learn what constituted as a fever. As it was, Blue was only two degrees above his normal. So at least that wasn't too worrying.

He was still complaining that his stomach hurt, though. A stomach bug, then? Or just something he ate? Usually Red was the one who would put random things in his mouth unless Splinter kept a careful watch, but Blue and Orange were... adventurous eaters, too. It was possible.

They continued with their normal bedtime routine. Another thing Splinter had going for him was that his boys loved baths; getting them into their makeshift tub, even with lukewarm water, was always easy. From his research, Red, Blue, and Purple were all aquatic turtles, and Orange was not one to be left out of his brothers’ games no matter his biology.

Blue wasn't excited for bath time tonight, though. He sat quietly in the tub, making grumpy noises anytime he got splashed and playing only with his favorite blue shark toy, ignoring everything else. He definitely felt bad. Splinter was feeling increasingly terrible that he hadn't noticed.

He got them all toweled off and into their pajamas. Then into the pallet beds he had for them, all in one big shared alcove, a tattered curtain strung up for a semblance of privacy. They would need something more as they got older, but for now the boys seemed content to share space.

He tucked Red, Purple, and Orange in, then turned his attention to Blue. He had found an old bucket earlier that he (theoretically) used for mopping, and this he presented to Blue.

"If you are going to throw up, please do it in this," he told Blue. "We don't have any spare sheets."

"Not gonna," said Blue grumpily, pushing the bucket away.

"Ewww," whined Purple. "I don't want to share with Leo if he throws up."

"Not gonna!" Blue insisted, glaring at Purple, who glared back. Splinter sighed and pushed the bucket at Blue again.

"I am serious, Leonardo," he said, and that got Blue's attention. "If you throw up, do it in this bucket."

Instead of answering, Blue rolled over and scrunched himself up in a ball. That was the best Splinter was going to get, he supposed, so he just sighed and put the bucket next to Blue's bed.

"Good night, boys," he said as he got to his feet, ignoring the crackles from his back and knees.

"Good niiiight," came three echoes. Blue was giving him the silent treatment. Alright.

He went back to his own bed, sectioned off by an old divider screen he'd managed to find. Hopefully they could at least get through the night without disaster striking.

...

According to his beat up alarm clock, it was only two hours later when Red showed up by his bedside, shaking him awake urgently.

Splinter groaned his way into consciousness, blinking groggy eyes until his eldest son came into focus.

"Leo threw up," came Red's predictable report.

Splinter sighed, pushing his sheets aside and rising from his futon. "Did he make it in the bucket?"

Red's expression was not encouraging.

...

He had not made it in the bucket.

Blue sat stock still in the puddle of his own sick, eyes teary and expression a mix between stunned and embarrassed. Purple was pressed as close to the opposite wall as he could get, hands pressed tight over his nose and mouth. Orange was at Blue's side, patting his arm with his chubby little hand.

"Blue," Splinter snapped as soon as he saw the mess. "Why didn't you throw up in the bucket!?"

"Didn't think I was gonna," Blue croaked.

"Well, you did. All over your sheets." Splinter ran his hands over his tired eyes. "Now you have nothing for tonight. And who knows if I'll even be able to get the stain out. I may have to go all the way to the surface to get new ones, and do you know what a hassle that is!? The bucket was right here, Blue!"

"I'm sorry."

The miserable hiccup in Blue's voice effectively stopped Splinter's tirade, and he refocused on his son. Blue's tears had spilled over, streaking down his miserable face. He was shivering, hands clutching the fabric of his ruined sheets, wringing them tight. He looked terrified.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Something inside Splinter cracked.

Leo was only four, by his best guess. He was a baby, still. A sick baby, and Splinter was yelling at him about... about bed sheets?

Blue didn't know that Splinter would have to steal him new sheets. He didn't know that Splinter feared every time he did something so risky, that it might expose their tiny family to hostile forces - the human authorities, Big Mama's goons, Draxum's gargoyles. He didn't know that Splinter should be taking him to a doctor right now. He didn't know that sleeping on a pallet bed in the sewers wasn't normal.

He just knew that he had thrown up, and his dad was mad about it.

Immediately, Splinter stooped and scooped the still-apologizing Blue into his arms. He was getting bigger all the time, and, somehow, Splinter was getting smaller, but he could still hold his boys in his arms, still cradle them against his chest.

"Blue... Leo, listen to me."

"I'm sorry," Blue mumbled again, followed by a sad, wet hiccup.

"Shh, shh, no, my son, please listen." He waited until teary eyes were turned on him to continue. "You don't need to apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"Missed the bucket," said Blue, and Splinter shook his head.

"That's alright. You're sick. It is my job to take care of these things." He scratched at the back of Blue's shell with the arm holding him, something he knew always calmed Blue down. Sure enough, he felt his boy begin to relax. "Do not worry about the sheets. If Daddy needs to get more, he will. For now we will all share."

Blue sniffed, and buried his face in Splinter's chest. That was a good sign. Splinter kept up the scraching.

"I'm sorry I yelled. You aren't in trouble, Blue. You're alright."

Blue sniffled again. Hiccupped one last time. His tears were drying up, and his little voice said, "S'okay, Daddy."

"Oh, my Baby Blue... Thank you."

He still felt terrible as he lowered Leo back to his bed and started to strip away the soiled sheets, but Leo had calmed down considerably. He kept the bucket close, though, even as he laid back down again on his pillow.

"Leo can have my blanket," said Red, already pulling the old thing over. Splinter smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you, Red. Blue, do you think you will throw up again?"

Blue shrugged. "Dunno."

"That's alright. It's okay if you do." Splinter smoothed the blanket over Blue, not tucking him in so he could move if he needed to. "I'll get this sheet washed out and be back, alright?"

Blue nodded. He was still gripping the bucket with one hand. Splinter rubbed his head, then stood up with his bundle of soiled sheets.

When he returned, with water for Blue, he'd thrown up again - in the bucket, this time. Orange was still by him, rubbing his arm, while Red sat behind him, supporting his back. Even Purple had come close, awkwardly patting at Blue's leg while pointedly avoiding looking at the bucket.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Blue," he told them, getting three beaming smiles in return.

They were all going to have the bug by tomorrow. Splinter would need to find more buckets.

[ariseur]

hi!! could i request ignis with a reader who's super flirty? i just think iggy is so attractive and want to know how you think he'd react to being told that lol

the crickets around you chirped in tune with the inner melody playing in your head, a soft song muttered under your breath and a tap of your fingers left you satisfied while you watched ignis work. his back was facing you; his sleek, dark grey button-up hugging on him while he made another dish. after the day you guys had, he couldn’t help but make some more food per your request— especially since gladio and you had gathered some herbs nearby. observing the man in front of you some more, you stared at him with no shame. after all, it wasn’t everyday that ignis didn’t gel his hair.

the brown color of his hair now parted with an acacia orange as it accentuated even the tiniest strands of hair. pieces of it covered the back of his neck and what you presumed was the front of his face. silently, you prayed for some water to come his way so you’d see more of this side of him. he looked so content, ignis always did when he was cooking.

you couldn’t stop the next words tumbling from your mouth. “have i ever told you how pretty you look with your hair like that?” even through the distant crackling of the camp fire and the chattering of gladio and prompto talking about only astrals know what, your voice cleared its own pathway throughout the faint noises and wiggled its way into ignis’ head, hoping his soon heating cheeks would be covered with an excuse of the fire.

he still faced away from you, hand languidly stirring the pot in which contained a stew from whatever ingredients were able to be gathered in the seas surrounding the galdin quay, provided to you guys by noctis’ skilled fishing. ignis cleared his throat, swallowing thickly before responding, “thank you, although i wouldn’t have thought that ‘pretty’ was the right word to describe a man such as myself.”

getting up to help him clean up, you watched him out of the corner of your eye; his glasses glinting with the warm glow of the nearby fire. you hummed mindlessly, almost dismissing his claim. “nonsense, anybody can be labeled as pretty.” and to that, he chuckled—brushing off his pink ears. “i suppose.”

letting out a giggle, you made ignis’ heart flutter once more. his head turned towards you, an amused smile resting on his face. he admired the way the auburn flames lit up your face as it highlighted your features; he sunk in the way your eyes crinkled when you beamed, along with the way your shoulders shook with your soft laughter. looking back at him, you pointed at his face. you paused a bit, turning your attention back to cleaning the cutting boards and cutlery which had been used by the brute of food known as noctis. always such a messy eater, you recalled. even gladio ate cleaner than noct did.

blinking up at him, you huffed again, “c’mon iggy, you know it. you’re even heating up— at the truth, might i add.”

hearing the familiar nickname laced with your sweet tone of voice fall from your lips made his heart beat a little louder— ( even if he’s heard it plenty of times before from his friends, hearing it from you felt different. almost strange. )

he scoffed amusedly. “it’s quite hot out here if you haven’t noticed.” blaming his pink cheeks on the vennaugh haven you lot had made yourself comfortable in, he brushed off your comments as you rolled your eyes at him with a mumbled, “whatever you say, iggy.”

“don’t start with that now.”

“what? what’d i do this time?” you grinned, tilted your head at him with a tone intertwined with feigned coyness. he sighed, shaking his head. “oh,” you said, dragging out the vowel perhaps longer than you needed to, “you just don’t wanna give into my super charming character. i get it.” putting your hands up in a defensive manner, you pushed more. he groaned, eyes still focused on the pot. “yes, quite the charmer.”

you scoffed dramatically, “why did that sound sarcastic?” he hummed in denial, shaking his head at your silly questions. “admit it,” you said, “you’re just salty i made you blush.”

“you did not.”

“i did, too.”

and before you could keep going on with this foolish game of who’ll crack first, a voice cleared their throat behind you. the two of you turned your heads only to see noctis with a hand on his hip and cocked head. ignis and you exchanged a glance as you both paused your movements. noctis grinned lazily as he teased, “what’re you guys talking about?”

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Soap x Reader - 5.5k (on ao3)

summary: Your doctor offers to help you get home after your lasik eye surgery. (Reader POV & Johnny POV)

cw: noncon sex, drugging, kidnapping, briefly mentioned lasik eye surgery (no description past one mention of a scalpel)

note: tysm to ceil for giving me this idea <3 i did a few google searches on lasik eye surgery and tried to mention the actual feelings as little as possible, and also the drug johnny uses is probably literally impossible but its fic so who cares lol

“And… how long did you say I have to wear these?” You ask, tentatively touching the glasses resting over your eyes.

“Och, not long at all. Just until tonight, then you come in for a check-up tomorrow afternoon and I’ll let you know what other care you’ll need.” Dr. MacTavish replies, big hands adjusting the frames and pushing them up your nose.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are they usually painted like this?” You’d hardly been able to see post lasik-surgery - mostly just big swaths of color - but you feel far more vulnerable with the sunglasses on, their blacked out lenses leaving you entirely in the dark except for the blurry light around the rims. 

Your doctor’s laugh is low and comforting, his hand patting you on the shoulder before you hear him moving away. “Of course. Not all optometrists use them, but I’ve found for patients like you they have the best results.”

“Like me?”

“Yes,” another chuckle, and the sounds of what you assume are tools being put away. “Patients who struggle to be good and sit still during their surgery.”

“Ah.” You feel your cheeks go hot in embarrassment. “I really am sorry about that…”

“No need,” he reassures, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You can’t help but jerk a little, the glasses slipping down your nose. “Oops, don’t be losin’ those, bonnie.”

Your cheeks go hot and you have to fight the urge not to reach up and fix them yourself since his hand gets their first. He rights them quickly, then taps the tip of your nose with a finger. “There you go. Let’s keep those where they should be, hm?” He gives the nape of your neck a squeeze, his palm warm and rough, and you do your best to nod without awkwardly dislodging him.

“Now, do you have a ride home?”

You suck your teeth a little at that. You hadn’t known you’d be wearing the dark glasses after - the care plan you and Dr. MacTavish had discussed beforehand had made it seem like you’d be able to ride the bus home, but you’re not comfortable doing that in your blinded state.

“Ah, not right now,” you start, tangling your fingers together in your lap to avoid rubbing at your itchy eyes. “But I can probably call a friend-”

“Nonsense,” Dr. MacTavish dismisses, moving away from you and back to whatever he’d been moving before. “You’re my last patient of the day, how about I give you a ride home?”

“Oh,” you start, startled at his offer. “Oh, that’s… no, that’s alright, Doctor. I’m sure one of my friends could-”

He interrupts you with a tsk, and suddenly there’s a hand at your elbows guiding you up, then just one as he walks you out of the office. “No, that won’t do. We need to get you home and in bed as soon as possible - it’s not good for you to be keeping your eyes open so much after surgery, you know.”

“Oh, really?” You gasp a little, letting him guide you. “Should I be keeping them closed? I don’t want to make anything worse…”

“You’re doing just fine, bonnie, no worries.” The hand on your elbow squeezes as you come to a stop, and you hear the sound of something being written on. “I’ll take good care of you now. C’mon.” What must be a pen is dropped onto what you can only assume is the front counter, and you’re guided forward again. “We’ll have you safe at home in no time.”

Dr. MacTavish’s car is nice - the seats aren’t cracking at all, the air conditioning works to cool the interior quickly, there’s a faint minty smell - but it disconcerts you more than you might’ve expected to be left completely blind in an unfamiliar environment, and with someone you don’t know past a professional relationship.

You give him your address after he buckles you in (you swear his hand brushes your chest, but it doesn’t linger and you don’t want to accuse him of something unfounded just because of a slight touch) and he doesn’t bother to input it into the GPS, tells you he already knows where the neighborhood is.

You haven’t felt so vulnerable in a long time. Even around the edge of the glasses, all you can see are blurs of color, and you feel oddly exposed without the ability to see. Your eyes itch and sting, and it takes conscious effort not to rub the feeling away. 

You lift a hand to rub them without even thinking but before it’s even halfway to your face Dr. MacTavish grabs it, pinning it to your thigh and making a low noise of dissent. “No rubbing now, lass, you know the rules.”

The heat creeping up your neck is entirely involuntary, and you tuck your free hand beneath your leg to resist the urge to squirm. “Right, of course, I’m sorry Dr. MacTavish.”

“Johnny, lass, no need for titles off the clock.”

You try to make a vague noise of understanding but end up sounding a bit like a bird, your hand clammy beneath his. He gives you a squeeze, but doesn’t let go. You’d ask him to move but… well, you don’t want to make things awkward when he’s your only way home at the moment and you figure he’s just helping. So you try to relax your fingers, and zone out to the sound of him humming along to the radio.

“Here we are,” he announces eventually, the car slowing to a stop before he turns into your driveway. “Nice neighborhood, hen. Very safe.”

You try to laugh casually and cringe when it just comes off as awkward - you’re unsure how to naviagte small-talk when all you really want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. “I just moved here recently, but it seems to be a pleasant area. I certainly don’t have any complaints.”

Dr. MacTavish - Johnny - hums in response, turning the car off and getting out to come to your side. He unbuckles you quickly and again there’s a little voice in the back of your head that says his hand lingered by your waist for just a few beats too long. But his fingers don’t venture anywhere appropriate, and you tell yourself that you’re seeing something that isn’t really there.

He keeps a hold of your elbow as he guides you up the stairs and into your building. He pauses and then a moment later you hear a ding, and the clear familiar sound of an elevator opening.

“Oh,” you say, shocked as he tugs you forward. “I had no idea the elevator was fixed - it’s been out of order since I moved in.”

“Really?” You hear press a button.

You stand there in silence for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before you feel the elevator start to move.

“Um, Dr Ma- Johnny, what floor did you pick?”

There’s a pause before he answers, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Och, silly me,” Johnny laughs, the sound echoing in the metal walls. “Force of habit, bonnie, I picked my floor in my building. What’s yours?”

You try to laugh it off, but the way his fingers tighten almost imperceptiably against the crook of your elbow has you sounding a bit too stiff. “Four, please.”

“Four,” he hums, and you hear him press another button.

The ride up is a bit awkward, at least from your perspective. Johnny makes no attempt at conversation past the occasional hum along to the music, and you’re a little too on edge to worry about small-talk right now.

Calm down, you insist to yourself. He’s just being polite. Making sure you get home safe. You’ve got to stop seeing the worst in people.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to relax.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence when the door opens for the first time, both you and Johnny just waiting for it to close and take you to the proper floor. 

The doors are much quicker to open the third time, and you figure Johnny must live on the third or fifth floor in his own building for you to have gotten to your floor so quickly.

“What’s your apartment number, lass?”

You tell him, and his hold loosens slightly against your arm. There’s a part of you - the part still a little cautious for reasons you can’t quite name - that relaxes when the path he takes is familiar. Only a few steps, apartment on the right side of the hall.

“Let me get my keys,” you mumble, tugging your arm away from his and pulling your keychain out of your pocket. You’d opted not to bring a purse to your surgery, thinking you’d be riding the bus home mostly blind, so you’ve got virtually nothing to dig through before offering your keyring up. 

They’re taken, you hear the familiar jungling soun, and then you’re being guided into your apartment by a firm hand placed at the small of your back. You can’t help but sigh deeply in relief, the familiarity of your home a comfort when you still feel so unachored without your sight.

“Very cute place you’ve got,” Johnny compliments, a smile audible in his voice.

“Thank you.” You hesitate just a moment before going on, unsure of how to phrase your next sentence. “And thank you for all the help getting home, Doctor, I really do appreciate it.”

A.k.a., I’m safe, you can leave.

“Aye, of course!” Johnny says, sounding almost offended like you were implying he wouldn’t usually take his patients home. Another part of you relaxes - he probably does this for every patient he sees at the end of a workday, you’re certainly nothing special. “Now, let’s get you settled nice and snug in bed, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense!” You’re cut off as he drops a heavy hand onto the nape of your neck, ignoring your slightly dramatic flinch and guiding you forward. “I’ve gotten you this far, would be a shame if I left you now and you took a tumble, hm?”

“I think I can get around my own apartment well enough, “ you try to protest, a little huff of offense escaping without your permission.

“Well, now we won’t have to test that theory.”

He moves quickly and just seconds later you’re sort of shoved onto your bed - almost oddly high off the ground, but you chalk it up to the way you stumble onto it. 

Johnny scoops your feet up, laughs a little at your yelp and lays you out on the bed. You blink up into the dark glasses, a little gobsmacked at the sudden shift and odd amount of manhandling from the doctor.

“Do you have any pain meds, love? We wouldn’t want you wakin’ up in the middle of the night, all uncomfortable and hurt. Something light, like Advil or Tylenol?”

“Um, yes,” you stutter a bit, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and glancing up at where you hear his voice. “In my bathroom, on the counter. But Dr. MacTav-”

A hand presses into the center of your chest, forcing you back to the bed with a little oof before your hear him walk away. “Johnny, lass! What’ll I have to do to get you to call me the proper name, hm?”

His voice is almost jovial, and you hear him muttering to himself a bit through the open door of your bathroom before he returns. You hear water running for a moment, and then his shoes on the carpet of your bedroom as he comes back.

“Here,” he says as he grasps your hand, holding it palm open and dropping two pills into it. “And you had a spare cup in the bathroom, so you won’t have to swallow dry.”

“Thank… thank you, Doc- Johnny, truly, I appreciate it.” 

You swallow dryly, suddenly thankful for the glass of water. The pills are small in your palm, familiar but there’s something in the back of your head screaming at you. You run your fingers over them absentmindidly, the stinging itch in your eyes growing.

Johnny scoops an arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up a bit and guiding the glass to your lips. “Here you are, lass, quick sip.”

You listen, then pop the pills into your mouth and swallow them with the water.

“Good girl,” Johnny hums, his voice vibrating through your side. His hand squeezes the shoulder in his grasp, and you shudder out a breath at the odd… intimacy? That doesn’t quite feel like the right word, but affection feels too distant for how close he holds himself.

You’re guided back down, head resting on a somewhat-flat pillow, and Johnny moves down to the end of the bed to take off your shoes.

Now that you’re resting in bed, it hits you how exhausted you are. The past few days of worrying over your procedure, the actual stress of the surgery itself, and the odd tension you’ve carried since all leave you feeling drained entirely once your head hits the pillow.

“We’ll get these shoes off so you’re nice and comfortable,” you hear Johnny say, his voice a little muffled now that you’re nearly half-asleep already. “Tired, lass?”

You only hum a bit, curling onto your side once both of your shoes are off, the sound of them thudding on the carpet almost silent. Your nose scrunches a bit as you get your first scent of the pillow. It doesn’t quite smell right, the lingering air of shampoo is definitely not one you’re familiar with.

There’s a shift of weight against your back, then a hand stroking over your head.

“Just sleep, bonnie. I’ll watch out for you.”

There’s a part of you, still awake enough, that thinks that isn’t right. But the more major part of you is already asleep. 

———————————————————————

Johnny can’t help but smile as he watches you sleep. The little trail of drool dripping from your lips onto his pillow, the soft sounds of your breathing, the twitches to your expression as you dream.

You’re truly adorable. He’d known it as soon as you came for a consultation about the surgery, and every moment spent after has only cemented that in his head. Even the way you tensed and squirmed in his chair while he was working was cute, your desperation to be good and listen overpowering your fear of what he was doing.

He reflects on the day as he gets undressed, folding his clothes on your dresser. You’d been very nervous, and even his most soothing tone and friendly conversation topics hadn’t done much to help. It’s natural - nobody’s ever at ease with a scalpel held over their eye - but he’d still felt a little dissapointed that his presense wasn’t of much help calming you down.

But it’s alright. You’ll learn very soon that you can trust him.

It was easier than he’d expected to get you back to his home. You’re far too trusting, apparently - another reason it’s for the best if he keeps an eye on you - and past some clear tension in your stance, you hadn’t fought him once or even tried to make sure he had taken you to the right place.

Johnny’s certainly not going to complain, though. His plan had been half-baked at best. Honestly if you’d even put up a slight bit of resistance, he probably would have taken you back home - your home - and gone back to the drawing board.

He can’t help but smile a bit. The fact that you hadn’t fought at all is just more proof that this was meant to be.

He climbs over your body, his naked skin brushing against your clothes. You don’t shift at all as he rolls you to your back, your face still relaxed in sleep. His smile grows.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing a hand over your face. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

It’s easy to push your shirt up your stomach. He doesn’t take it off, not quite willing to risk that much movement while the drugs could still be settling in.

God, the way you’d just taken his pills with no hesitation, with just complete and total trust in him to do right by you. It makes his cock stifen against your stomach, the way you’d just listened and trusted him.

He moans as he finally pushes your shirt up to your collarbones, the sight of your tits bringing him to full hardness almost immediately. You’d dressed up for him, soft white lace wrapped around your beautiful chest. 

He ducks down to suck a peak into his mouth, tonguing at a nipple through the fabric. He groans a bit at the taste of your skin, muted as it is, and quickly tugs down the cup of the bra to get a real bite of you.

He could lay there at your tits for hours, he just knows it. He kisses his way across your chest, gives your other nipple some love and thumbing at the first with a free hand. He forces his movements to stay soft and slow, resists the urge to bite and leave a ring of teeth marks around your areola.

“Taste so good, baby,” he whispers as he pushes himself up, admiring the shiny spit across your skin. He rubs it in a little, spreading himself across any place his lips hadn’t touched. “Gonna let me get a taste of your pussy too?”

Obviously you don’t respond. Still, Johnny smiles down at you and moves to pet your stomach.

“Yeah, I know you will. Just wanna be a good girl for me, hm?”

Of course you do, he already knows you’ll be good to him - be good for him. 

It’s easy to wrap his hands around your waist and flip you gently to your stomach. He guides your head to the side and pulls your hair away to make sure he can get a good view of your pretty face, leans down to give you a soft kiss on the cheek and breathes in the scent of your bodywash and shampoo. 

Your pants are easy enough to get off, and he forces himself to tug them all the way off both legs before even looking at your sweet little ass. He’d been staring at any chance he could all day, had kept his eyes glued to your backside for the entire elevator ride up to his apartment when he was sure you couldn’t see his leering. 

Now he can’t help but groan aloud when he kneels over your thighs, the sight of you vulnerable and limp beneath him almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, spread your knees for me, lass,” he mutters, slowly moving your legs to the side and moving between them. He’s careful as he props you up onto your knees, folding them beneath you and making sure to balance you with one hand on your hip so you don’t fall to the side.

He’s nearly drooling as he gets his first sight of your core - lips just slightly spread, pretty pink pussy peeking out at him. It’s almost too much, he has to give himself a few quick jerks just to lessen the ache building in his cock.

“Look at you,” he says on a sigh, dipping his head low enough to breathe in your scent. He hikes your hips up a little higher to keep you at the right angle, quickly shushes your little noise of discontent at the shift.

“It’s alright, you’re ok,” he reassures, petting over your hip a few times to calm your unconscious mind. “Just wanna make you feel good, pretty thing. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

He licks you, from clit to ass, to help you calm down a bit more. It works - your body goes a little more limp in his hold, your back arching more easily into the position he wants. He licks you several more times, groaning as he tries to cover every inch of your cunt, tasting every piece of skin he can. He lays his tongue flat at first, then uses the tip to make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“So good,” he moans, burying his face into your center and just breathing there for a moment. There’s a little bit of slick beginning to drip from your hole, but not much. He licks it up anyway, savoring the taste and promising to feast later. 

He stays glued to your clit for a bit, taking the little bud between his lips and running the tip of his tongue over it again and again until he finds the exact spot that makes your thighs twitch, the pattern that has you whining every other breath.

Johnny moves back up, laps at the sweet nectar dripping steadily from you now. Every little flick of his tongue arouses you more, and no matter how long he keeps his mouth on you he knows he’d never run out of your taste.

It’s with only a bit of reluctance that he pulls away. He spreads both of your cheeks with his palms, admiring your two tight little holes and the sheen covering your most sensitive spots. He’d like to give your ass a few smacks, paint it red and watch you squirm, but he’s not sure how much sensation he can give you without pulling you from the drugs’ hold.

Which is also why he tucks a few fingers into your cunt, just to stretch you out. He’d like to fuck into you without any prep at all, watch your pretty face scrunch up as you’re spread on the thickest cock you’d ever taken (and he knows he’s the biggest you’ve had). Maybe you would even cry a little, blink teary eyes up at him and ask him to slow down.

He groans at the image, scissoring his fingers inside of you to prepare you as quickly as he can. 

It’s easy to ease himself forward and line his cockhead up with your little hole. He knows another finger would’ve been a kindness, but with how his cock throbs between his legs he’s not sure he’ll make it very long once he’s finally inside of you. 

So he taps the tip against your leaking hole, snorts quietly when the thought pops into his head that he’s almost knocking on a door, then slowly lets himself sink inside of your heat. He’s stares transfixed at the way your body opens for him so easily, a smooth coming together that he wishes he never had to look away from.

He keeps a secure grip on your hips, letting gravity do most of the work as his hips push forward steadily. His head rolls back on his neck, mouth hanging open and grunts spilling from his lips as your tight heat envelops him further and further.

He pauses halfway in to take a breather, just so he doesn’t come before his balls even meet your clit. Your body’s grip on him is unlike anything he’s ever felt, and he knos he made the right choice in bringing you home with him.

It’s hard, but Johnny manages to control himself and keep from fucking you too roughly. His thrusts are long and slow if a little extra harsh, and he stares down at your scrunched up little face and imagines all the filthy ways he’ll have you in the coming weeks.

You shift on your knees when he hits a particularly nice spot, little whines pouring from your throat on exhales. His thrusts nearly punch the air from your body, and he finds himself breathing in sync with you as he loses himself more and more to the pleasure.

He slips a hand from your waist to your clit as he gets closer. It would be awfully selfish of him to leave you needy after getting himself off, and he’s not about to deny himself the tight clench of your body as he brings you to climax.

It takes a little bit of trial and error to figure out what feels good for you - he can’t quite discern the difference between a nose scrunch of frustration and one of pleasure - but the steady pumps of his hips and the constant motions against your clit quickly bring you to the edge.

Your cunt tightens deliciously around him as you finally come, but the true beauty is in the way you go absolutely boneless beneath him. He has to firm up his grip on your waist just to keep you from sinking flat on the bed, huffing a laugh as he thrusts just a bit faster, just enough to get himself there too.

He lets his head fall beside yours as the two of you ride out your climaxes together, staring wide-eyed at the way your face relaxes into the pleasure. He leans forward enough to mesh your lips together, messily forcing your mouth open and licking at your tongue.

It’s not the best kiss - he has to do all the work, and he ends up soaking both of your chins in spit - but he relishes in it anyway. Your first kiss together is something he knows he’ll want to remember for years to come.

He hardly notices as he slips from your body, tingles shooting through every nerve leaving him mostly unaware of his body’s functions. He hardly has the energy to make sure he doesn’t crush you beneath him, instead laying beside you and tucking you into his chest.

“Thank you, bonnie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fantastic. Can’t wait to do it again, maybe you’ll do a bit more next time, yeah?” He laughs a little at his own joke, snuggling you close to him and letting his eyes shut slowly.

———————————————————————

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you wake up next, but you can tell immediately that something isn’t right. 

First of all, you’re half naked. And you can tell you’re half naked because your legs are being cradled by someone else’s naked legs. And you know for a fact that you didn’t bring anyone home with you.

Except… it occurs to you slowly as you finally blink stinging eyes open, except you did. Dr. MacTavish brought you home.

And you let him into your apartment. You just handed your keys over to a man you hardly knew, let him guide you right to bed without any sort of fight.

Your head pounds with a vengeance, right behind your already hurting eyes.

You let him give you pills, too. You remember that, though it’s the last thing you remember. He asked where your pain meds were and you didn’t even bother to check that he’d given you what you expected. You just swallowed them with water, like this was a man you could trust.

The slight soreness between your thighs tells you that you couldn’t.

The tears that begin to gather in your eyes hurt, which makes you want to cry even more. You can’t hold back a sniffle, then a hiccup, then what sounds more like sobs than anything else.

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth, briefly recoil and the weight over your torso.

You can’t bring yourself to look, but you know who’s in bed with you.

Johnny wakes up just minutes later, shifting and making a soft sound of confusion. It must not take him long to put the pieces together because it only takes him a few seconds to start cooing, his rough palm cupping your face over your own hands.

“Lass?” He hums, and from your peripheral you see his brows furrow. It’s only a slight comfort that you even can see. “What’s wrong?”

That almost gets a laugh out of you. You nearly choke on the sound, spit catching in your throat. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

He sighs, like he already knows. Of course he knows. He has to know.

“Don’t be upset.” He leans a little closer, and to your horror you feel him press his lips against your forehead. “You can be awake next time, yeah? Then you won’t feel so left out.”

“Left out,” you echo, a strain of horror making its way into your voice.

“But only if you can be good,” he clarifies. “No fighting me now. Just keep being good for me and you can stay awake, alright?”

“Good…” You feel like a robot, but the combination of your headache and the absurdity of your situation leaves you unable to process what’s happening.

It processes much faster when you feel one of his hands slide up the shirt you’re - by some miracle - still wearing. It’s instinctual to jerk up the bed and away when he goes straight for one of your breasts.

“Get- get off me!” Your voice is nearly a shriek, the pitch sending a shock of pain up your skull.

You don’t make it very far in your tiny escape attempt, Johnny quickly hefting himself above you and pinning you down with his weight.

“Now, lass,” he scolds, face set in a frown that you can’t tell is sarcastic or serious. “What did I just say?”

You can’t make yourself speak, fingers trembling beside your head as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“C’mon,” he goads, dropping his weight a little lower. “Just gotta do one thing for me to stay awake, tell me what it was.”

“I’m not-” you gasp a big breath, blinking up at the man above you. “I’m not fucking calming down! Get off of me, you freak, how dare you-”

“Alright!” He nearly shouts, drowning you out. “That’s enough of that. Back to sleep with you, I think. We’ll see if you can handle participating next time.”

He’s leaned to the side before you can really register what he’s said, scooping two little white pills into his palm and coming back over you.

“Open wide,” he taunts, lips curled into a small smirk as he holds his closed fist above your mouth.

Every instinct in you says to scream and shout, to fight back. But he’s got you pinned with your arms stuck between the two of you, unable to lift your hands and cover your mouth, so you clamp your lips as tightly shut as you can to keep him out.

Johnny only sighs, like you’re making his drugging terribly inconvenient. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out his face, praying that you’ll open them and this will all just be a terrible nightmare.

“Really, lass?” He complains, his free hand reaching up to pinch your nose. Without anything to hold him up, you’re nearly crushed beneath his body weight. “Very mature. I can pinch far longer than you can hold your breath, y’know. You’re making this difficult for no good reason.”

Your eyes fly open at that, glaring up at him with what you hope is a scathing look.

He only laughs.

“Very cute,” he hums, rubbing his nose against your cheek. Your chest burns from the lack of air. “I think you’ll be just perfect to keep around the house. You’ll brighten this place in all the right ways, won’t you?”

Your eyes well with tears as black stars begin to dance across your vision. Completely against your own will, your lips part and you suck in a deep breath.

Johnny doesn’t waste any time - you nearly choke on the pills as they fly down your throat with the air you desperately inhale. You nearly choke, hacking with tears streaming from your eyes, but Johnny just holds a hand over your mouth and brings you both up enough to harshly pat your back.

“There you go, you’re ok,” he mumbles in your ear, rubbing the place he’d slapped as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. The pills leave an uncomfortable lump in your throat, and you reach up to rub at it as if that will make it any better.

He stays like that, holding you close, for several long heartbeats.

“Good girl,” he hums, lips pressing to your temple and the sound rumbling through the contact. “I hope you won’t make me do that next time, I’d much rather you be awake for this next part.”

He lays you back slowly, and you distantly wonder what on Earth he’s given you to knock you out so quickly. Already your eyes feel heavier and you’ve hardly swallowed. You try to keep your eyes open as long as possible, which leaves you staring up at Johnny as he hovers above you.

“It’s not the worst thing, though,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek and thumb passing your undereye. “I don’t mind having you like this, soft and sweet for me.”

Your eyes finally flutter shut just as you feel your legs being nudged apart.

[lunasfics]

You Remind Me of Lilies - Damian Wayne

Summary: "You remind me of lilies.” He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?”  You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Every time.”

pairing: older! Damian Wayne x gn! Reader

word count: 611

warnings: none

a/n: saw a picture of lilies and got the idea to write this <3 my formal apology for the jason angst lol, i hope you like it! - luna <3

reblogs are appreciated!

The moment was a quiet one. The two of you were sitting on the grassy patch, the soft cloth from your earlier picnic providing comfort beneath you. Damian held your hand in his as he looked forward, eyeing the patches of lilies scattered across the meadow. 

You looked at him, his brilliant green eyes glazed over with the soft peachy tint of the sunset ahead. The soft breeze swaying his hair ever so slightly, his smooth olive skin was kissed by the soft pink and orange hues of the fading sun. He turned to you, his gaze catching yours. His lips quirked up into a soft smile.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You remind me of lilies.” 

He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?” 

You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Everytime.” 

A soft shade of pink spreads over his ears and cheeks, he scoots closer to you, the hand that was holding yours letting go and snaking itself around your waist. You leaned into him, relishing the moment. The soft sounds of the grass rustling in the breeze, a blue hue slowly washing over you as the sun sets further. The temperature cooled slowly, the warmth of the sun dissipating, you brought yourself closer to Damian. 

“Tell me about the lilies.” He spoke softly, you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled. 

“Well, white lilies mean purity, tranquility, and humility. Red ones signify love and affection, pink symbolizes youth and joy, and orange ones represent happiness, love, and warmth.” 

He spoke softly, “I don’t know that I’m any of those things.” 

You turned to look at him, “Nonsense, you’re all those things and more.” 

He met your gaze, smiling softly, the sun was gone by now. However looking into his sparkling green eyes, seeing the small crinkles at the corners from his soft gaze, they could’ve fooled you into thinking the sun was shining on just the two of you. 

He leaned and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I don’t think I would be anywhere near where I am today if not for you. I love you.” He spoke softly. His voice is gentle, tender. 

You were so proud of him. Truly. He'd graduated from the Robin title, taking on his own identity, he'd started attending Gotham University with you. He'd opened up, made friends, he'd come so far. And it was all him. As far as he has come, these kinds of soft gazes, tender words, and warm touches were the kind that he saved only for you. It made them all the more special.

“That's all the product of your effort, Dami, not me. I love you too.” You leaned your head back on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. 

The two of you stay like that for a moment, a comfortable silence washing over you like a warm blanket of serenity. The bees have stopped buzzing, the sounds now replaced with the distant songs of the cicadas, and the soft sounds of the crickets. 

Damian broke the silence, “I used to think you were too good for me. That I didn’t deserve you. This. Even now when I look at you it’s as though I am seeing the stars for the first time.”

You met his eyes, gazing into the now darkened shade of green, “You deserve everything good in this world.” 

He held you closer, kissing you softly. He pulled away, speaking softly, “The sun is down, we should get going.” 

You shook your head, “Let’s stay just a little bit longer. This is nice.” 

He smiled and nodded, “As you wish, beloved.”

[catsfor2]

hit me, part 2.5 (bonus baby)

wc: 1.1k, unedited warnings: swearing/language a/n: im sooooo tired so im sorry if this stinks. but anyway. I hope you guys like it regardless. ALSO wanted to also remind everyone that my requests are wide open ;)!! tags: @elliewilliamsmunch@intrnetdoll@me-and-your-husband@3zae-zae3@milahnoz@elliescumm@dragonasflowercrown@starpix@nopealoupe@annamommyy@muthafuckingstargirl

-j

part 1

part 1.5

part 2

Another meek chime rings out from your bed, calling to you, forcing you to slam your textbook shut out of frustration.

You’d been studying for maybe four hours at this point. It was far past dark, the sky now an opaque charcoal. Your eyes are aching. Your back is sore. It was time to take a break.

You hop on your bed, body weight causing it to gently bounce you up and down a few times.

You click your phone on.

New message from (+14556768854)

New message from (+14556768854)

Image from (+14556768854)

New message from (+14556768854)

New message from (+14556768854)

You hesitantly open it up, eyes squinting and head shunned like it might be something unsavory.

(+14556768854)

hey

can u tell me if this looks serious

IMG_5354 [Click to Download]

pls respond

y/n

Your heart lurches.

These texts were from Ellie.

Instantly on edge, and you frantically poke the image link to see it, tapping it repeatedly as if that would speed it up. It buffers, agonizingly, and you prepare yourself to see a grotesque and mangled amalgamation of colors in the next few seconds.

It finally loads.

You scan it quickly, studying and prodding the image with your eyes.

Your mouth flattens.

It’s…just a picture of her flexing.

Your thumbs type at an alarming speed.

that was not fuckijng funny

You throw your phone back at your mattress, deciding to ignore whatever nonsense Ellie will respond with.

It chimes immediately.

You regretfully pick it back up, still angry, and open to read what she says.

lol

“…Fucking stupid…” you mutter, already typing at your response.

im serious

thats not why i gave u my number

ok

why then

You roll your eyes, memory already recalling a couple of days ago, where you very clearly and very obviously told her why.

for emergencies

or if u need me for something important idk

i dont wanna see your thirst traps

You knew that last part was a lie before you even typed it out. That picture she sent was not what you were expecting, but it still turned your insides to mush. It still had you a bit uneasy, nauseous even. Ellie had power over your body like that.

hmmm

i have an emergency

really bad one

You wait on her answer, skeptically, watching those three dots dance around in circles.

im hungry

You let out a sigh.

Then you click your phone off, throwing it elsewhere, and dejectedly gazing at the textbook sitting on your desk. Your professor would want you to, right?

Your phone interrupts you again, noisily snatching your attention with its sounds and jostling your focus from the book.

The sounds don’t stop.

Fuck, you think. Your phone is ringing.

You jerk to pick it up, fingers fumbling it, until finally you’re able to click ‘answer’ and bring it to your ear.

You’re quiet, hoping Ellie will speak first.

“Hi.” a voice says, and you quickly connect that it’s just Ellie’s, sleep riddled and raspy.

“…Hi.”

“So…what’d you think?”

Your eyebrows crease.

“Of what?”

“'Of what?' Of my fuckin’ progress, that’s what! Anthony has me eating, like, six whole chickens a week.” she boasts.

“Oh. I didn’t really…see?…I guess? I don’t know…”

“I mean—I’ve gained almost 30 this year.”

You remain confused. Is that a lot…?

Ellie must understand your silence for what it is and continues.

“Pounds, princess. Muscle. I’m getting fuckin’ huge.”

Oh.

“Okay—I got it now. Um…congrats, then.”

“What, that’s it? That’s all you got for me?”

“I—I don’t know!” you defend, voice coming out a bit louder and higher. “Your muscles look—like, big, all the time! I can’t tell the difference!”

She laughs loudly into the receiver, and you can’t help the smile you wear, hearing it so amplified in your ear.

“You need more pictures? I got more pictures.” she assures.

Simultaneous with her voice, you feel the sharp vibration and hear the dingy chime of your phone.

“Just took that one. You should look at it.” she adds, tone low but casual.

You deeply blush, feeling exposed despite being so alone in your bedroom.

“…Okay.” you agree, sliding the phone off your face to open it up.

A mirror reflection of Ellie’s back fills your screen, stretched and taut into a flexed pose. Her arms are out beside her head, clenched impossibly tight, in effort to completely portray her physique. Your eyes flick down, noticing in the image that she’s wearing only boxers.

She just took that picture?

The air in your room feels warmer, hotter than ever, so you strip down to a tank top and underwear. It feels wrong, almost. Talking to Ellie with this much skin showing. Her not knowing.

“Hello? You there?” Ellie loudly repeats over the speaker, audio fuzzy and weak.

You grasp your phone back up, stuttering out a response.

“Yeah—yes, here. I’m here.”

“'Kay. Your turn.”

You almost drop the device completely.

“My turn?”

“Fair’s only fair, right?”

“…Ellie…” you protest, skin burning with even the idea of her seeing you.

“C’mon, please? I took mine already, you can’t go back.”

You say nothing, whole body sweating, hoping and praying she’ll just forget about it.

“…I wanna see you.” she admits, voice warm and fuzzy through the speaker.

Your cheeks erupt red, a sense of burning flowing throughout your whole body at her words. You curl up, thighs squeezing at themselves, and try to answer.

“But—I’m…I’m in…pajamas.” you whisper, looking down at your bare legs and sheer top.

“You are? Even better.”

“I—I don’t know—”

“You really don’t have to. I’ll live, princess. I promise.”

Your body relaxes entirely, a breath of pure relief leaving your lips, as well as a forceful yawn. Ellie must’ve heard it through the phone.

“Aww—you tired? Should I hang up?”

“No! Don’t hang up! I want to keep talking! I was studying before so I’m a little—a little out of it but—”

“Nope. I’m hangin’ up. Princess needs her beauty sleep.”

“What—no, Ellie.” you argue, albeit lazily, as the energy you have left is truly running low.

“I’ll be here in the morning, won’t I? Good-niiiight—” she lulls, drawing out the last word.

“No! Don’t hang up! Ellie!”

On the other end of the phone, there’s only quiet.

An abyss of silence.

“…Ellie?” you try, voice small.

Nothing.

Your mouth purses, frustrated, as you listen to the absent noise through the speaker.

Still nothing.

You flip over, hostilely pulling the comforter over yourself and crashing your head into the pillow. You feel cold, but you know an extra blanket or some layers wouldn’t make you any warmer. Only she could.

Before you can shut your eyes, the chime sporadically rings out again, and you find yourself rapidly grasping the phone from your mattress.

Immediately you unlock it.

(+14556768854)

sweet dreams

dont let the bed bugs bute

fuck

bite *

call you tomorrow

Your eyelids finally shut, the weight of the day keeping them closed indefinitely. Your limbs go lax, succumbing to exhaustion.

You permit yourself to fall asleep, now knowing fully, that you will have the sweetest of dreams.

[books-books-smolderinglooks]

Thinking about forehead touches.. 💜 They comfort each other, bask in and adore the other. When their emotions feel like so much, a moment to breathe the other in and touches, to realize that yes it's real. All is ok because they're here, they're together. More forehead touches to come... it's them against the world now. ❤️❤️

[mr-jack-letterman]

AAAAAAND WERE BACK with more Subway to Stardew silliness NSNNDD.

Thank you to the folks over at @subwaytostardew for making this wonderful mod and letting me make silly art about it lol.

In any case time for some headcannon nonsense.

(click for better quality because Tumblr makes it crunchy)

If Stardew Valley were to have a box legendary I think it would be Cresselia. It's literally Lunar pokemon and represents the crescent moon so it being the patron legendary of Stardew Valley just makes a lot of sense to me. Also Cresselia is underrated NSNDN.

Maybe there would be a secret special encounter for Darkrai. (the other half of it and Cresselia's duo but is a mythical for some reason?)

Also the Lunar wing would be very neat item to have in-game ANSNDND.

If it were to exist within the mod I imagine the farmer would be like "oooo shiny feather. Maybe it's a pokemon feather? Emmet/Ingo would probably like it :D" so then they make it into a necklace, or maybe just give it to one of them outright without knowing what it is. So Emmet/Ingo sees it and just starts freaking the hell out cause their crush/friend just gave them a piece of a literal legendary pokemon meanwhile the farmer is just....clueless NSNDND.

Now onto some of the other characters.

As basically the resident nurse joy of Pelican Town I think Harvey would have some pokemon common in the medical field. Though, pokemon like Chansey and Audino don't really fit his whole "whiskey neat, coffee black, bed at three"/ref vibes so I thought Indeedee would be best NSNDNND.

I also decided to give some pokemon to the characters mentioned within my ask.

Willy is very fond of water types, clearly NSNS. Specifically fish pokemon like Lanturn, Seaking, Whiscash, Wishiwashi, or Dondozo. (Though his actual team probably has a good chunk of pokemon that are still water type just not fish lmao) The crowning jewel of his collection is a shiny Magikarp he fished up. Maybe one day it will evolve, but for now it just swims around the docks next to his house entertaining anyone that visits.

He also has a Bibarel. (which I imagine is the grown up version of that one Bidoof that snuck into Pelican Town) It acts more like an overgrown housecat than a battle ready pokemon but it is incredibly bulky so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯.

Morris also has a few pokemon of his own. Most of which he keeps at home. But his main two he's seen with is a Gimmighoul and a Gumshoos. (IDK he just has Gumshoos vibes to me NSNDNND) They run around Joja pickpocketing people's gold cause Morris is just a dick like that.

"It's Wizard time mother fucker, FIREBALL-"/ref

Wizard likes psychic types, but I like to think he also has a fondness for fairy types too. Also, most of em has at least one strong fire type move just so he has an excuse to yell "fireball" and blast something NSND. His Malamar is named Illithid (a wack squid monster guy from DnD lol)

Sandy likes rock types, given that she lives in a desert it's probably the only type of pokemon she sees on the daily lol. She also has a key stone on her earring. With how colorful a keystone is when compared to sand I think she would be the most likely to find one there. Idk exactly if she'd mega evolve an Aerodactyl or a Tyranitar, if any pokemon at all. But I think she'd carry it around regardless. It's pretty :]

Also she has a shiny Rockruff. I don't rly have an explanation for that one I think it just fits the vibe lol.

And now, shenanigans.

Emmet then proceeds to grab the child and just.... speed walk away HSBBDBDJJR.

That's all I have for now, I'll probably throw some other pokemon at the bachelorettes and other bachelors another time but this alone took a solid week due to finals 😭/lh

Time for me to go to bed lol, have a good one 👍

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: 'Hello Darkness, my old friend. I see you've come to stalk my store again.' Or, why fear Death when you can just Pavlov him with cookies into carrying your groceries?

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Continued apologies to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

“I hear you’ve been dealing with an infestation.”

You arched a brow and pointedly settled the last of the little, strawberry, tarts into its box with a heavy plap. You took your time piping a neat dollop of cream on the top and then fixing the tiny sugar berry adornments into a smiley face.

“You’re free to call the health inspector,” you intoned, handing over the box. “That’ll be ten copper, your highness.”

Riddle’s face went as red as the dessert in his hands.

“Don’t call me that!” he hissed, ducking back further beneath the hood of his cloak. The cloak that was clearly made of the finest, crimson, silks money could buy. The one with real gold embroidered along the crisp edges and an ivory clasp shaped into a literal crown. 

You shrugged. At least he’d moved past demanding outright that ‘of course he wasn’t the prince! How dare you! To think yourself so presumptuous! As if royalty would ever even consider visiting this hovel of yours! Off with your head!’ Those had been a fun few weeks.

You poked around in your stacks upon stacks of baked goods and unearthed a little, cherry, cookie. You slipped it into the box alongside his tart and hoped that counted as a metaphorical pat on the head. There, there, little lord. This humble one will tell no one of your secret, commoner, shames.

Some of that choked-red color started to fade from his cheeks, and Riddle accepted the offering with an expression that on any normal person you might have called a pout.  

“I was trying to be tactful,” he spat, tucking the bribe further into the packaging with a stiff twitch of the fingers. “But I don’t know why I even bother.”

You shrugged again and made brief eye contact with the terribly unsubtle guard stationed at your front door. Cater, or Carter, or something like that. He greeted everyone who walked by with a cheerful little wave and a wink. He was charismatic, and loud, and apparently—as you had discovered when you’d tried to hand him a little slice of cake as a consolation treat for putting up with his charge’s emotionally constipated nonsense—hated sweet things with every fiber of his being. You didn’t trust him for a second.

The pair of you locked gazes over Riddle’s shoulder, and his lips quirked into a smirk that was sharper than it was fond. Ah. So it was one of those days, was it?

“Is there something else you wanted?” you prodded intentionally, as Riddle turned to make his retreat.

The Prince paused for a moment, and you watched his teeth worry a bit at his lower lip—a nervous habit he claimed forwards and backwards he absolutely did not possess. After a moment of silent deliberation, he straightened his spine into something stiff and regal.

“There are rumors going around that your business may be suffering from a… pest problem,” he said, like he was chewing over each word individually. “And while I firmly believe that people should endeavor to work through their own problems, if this is indeed a problem…” he paused, hands tightening a bit around the pastry box tucked neatly between his palms before looking back up to meet your gaze with that harsh sort of determination that always made him seem very much like someone who ought to be ruling over entire kingdoms. “I’m certain the Royal Family would be more than happy to come to the aid any of their subjects, should they ask for it.”

You ducked your head in a nod that you hoped was the appropriate level of polite for such a declaration.

“Your concern is appreciated, your high—”

His face twisted up in a sneer and you beamed.

“—Highly esteemed customer,” you finished with a chirp. “But I’m perfectly capable of crushing a few cockroaches.”

Riddle nodded at you tightly and made a swift exit. Cater flicked his fingers at you in a half-salute and the pair continued on down the cobblestone street and out of sight.

“Do you actually have pests here?” a tiny old lady asked from her place perusing your shelves. She looked like an onion that had been left in the sun for a couple dozen years, and the question seemed kinder than it did probing. Like she would happily help you hunt down the little buggers herself. “Roaches, I mean…?”

“Oh no,” you reassured. “It’s much bigger.”

You watched the poor thing nearly go into conniptions and offered her a cup of fresh chai on the house.

.

.

As much as you had kindly reassured your most affluent patron otherwise, you were indeed suffering under the aforementioned ‘pest problem.’ And while your squishing abilities were normally the stuff of legend, you didn’t think there was a boot big enough in the whole world to rid you of your current guest.

“Quelle très belle matinée! And made all the better by my dearest friend!”

You grunted and let the door slip shut with a tinkle behind him. Rook nearly bounced to your oven and peered inside with all the eagerness of a wide-eyed child. You’d long since learned not to bother yanking him back from the flames. They never even seemed to warm his pale cheeks, let alone melt him into the puddle of charred goo that they rationally ought to.

“Macarons?” he chirped, and turned to you like he was waiting for a Good Noodle Sticker. He leaned closer, and you watched the sputtering heat sway around and away from him like a tangible thing. He sniffed a few times, looking thoughtful. “Flavored delightfully with that lovely rosewater syrup you were steeping last night?

You hummed in affirmation and handed him a little almond cookie for his efforts. It felt a bit like training a dog.

The first time you’d told a dejected looking Rook that he could eat his treat in your shop rather than using it an as excuse to punt him out the door, he’d practically glowed. And had apparently taken the offer as an extension of a permanent invitation. He still waited patiently at the front door each morning, still marveled at the merry jingle of the bell when you allowed him entrance, and always wiped his feet. You’d hoped a bit that perhaps overexposure to your meager, repetitive, livelihood would have him eventually bowing out from boredom. But if anything, he seemed to have become more enamored with your dealings as the weeks passed.

And now that you’d given him express permission to hover, his originally vested interest had become outright sticky. There was no more plastering himself distantly to the window when he could go and literally shove his face into an oven, or perch himself at your shoulder like a wide-eyed owl as you tried to whip egg whites into peaks without repeatedly elbowing him in the gut. He puttered after you like a duck quacking for its mother, spouting off every question under the sun about temperatures, and consistencies, and the merits of baking powder versus soda.

“And these are meant to be… burned? Yes?”

“Dehydrated,” you sighed. “And not these. You’re thinking of the meringue cookies.”

“Ah, I see. Those crunchy delicacies from yesterday that looked to be little clouds,” he hummed, nodding along. The feather on his hat bobbed over a hot coal and sparked with embers. You reached out with a frustrated huff to whack the walking fire hazard back into a gently smoking mess rather than the start of an outright blaze. “Merci, merci!” Rook trilled as you beat him with a damp towel. Black soot floated through the air like dust motes under the sun, and he grinned through your grouchy manhandling as he always did. “Ahh, cher pâtissier! You always do dote on me so!”

You were about to argue back about how keeping him from unintentionally annihilating your entire kitchen was not ‘doting,’ when your eyes trailed over something strangely gunky and off colored stuck on the back of his cloak. You leaned forward to pluck up whatever it was, and Rook’s fingers flew out to snatch up your wrist before you could even blink.

“Please pardon me, mon cœur!” he beamed, the lines of his leather gloves a soft weight against your flour dusted skin. “I have tried to be most diligent in keeping myself clean for our morning rendezvous! But alas, it would seem I’ve missed a spot this time around.”

Part of you was sorely tempted to ask what—who—had apparently dirtied his robes. But you decided ultimately that it was still far too early to be discussing the remnants of the unfortunate victims off his hit list, and honestly you really weren’t sure you would have cared even with another four hours of sleep and a full mug of caffeine in you. So you waved him off and went back to worrying over your spice racks and tallying cups of flour.

Rook pillowed his chin in his hand and watched you putter about with a sigh that sounded far too besotted for anyone’s good. Those eerily green eyes of his seemed to glow in the lowlight, and he only gushed even more ridiculously when you launched a wet rag at the mess on his back and demanded he mop up his own nonsense or get out.  

.

.

You didn’t realize that Rook was slowly staying later and later into the day until Ace came by to collect your weekly booklet of receipts and would not step through the door.

“What are you, contagious?” you harumphed, pointedly leaning over the threshold to shove your collection of bits and bobs into his waiting hands rather than stepping out into the street to join him.

“More like superstitious,” he snipped. He crossed his arms and gave your shop a pointed once over. “I thought Egg Boy was overexaggerating, but you really just…” He waved his hands around his head for a moment before letting out an angry huff that sounded a bit too much like an overboiled kettle. “Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?!”

“You literally ate raw dough off my floor less than a month ago,” you accused.

“I already told you I didn’t know it wasn’t cooked!—And that’s not the point!” he seethed. “Don’t you realize who that is?” he continued, voice dipping into one of those angry whispers that was never really a whisper.

You rolled your eyes and turned to shout over your shoulder. “Rook Hunt?”

The blonde instantly perked up from his place perched by the counter, where he’d very clearly been watching this entire exchange with a lazily curling grin.

“Oui! However can I be of assistance to you, my lovely, darling, pâtis—”

You turned back to Ace.

“Yes, I know who he is.”

“—And of course I know who you are as well!” Rook barreled onwards, slipping forward to drape himself along your shadow like a cat might settle itself into a sunbeam. He never leaned on you outright, but he always made a point to get close enough that he may as well have. “The wonderful artiste who has shown me nothing but the greatest kindness! Ah, mon humain préféré! With your endless hospitality and words sweeter than even the finest of the confections you craft!”

Ace’s expression twisted up like the very idea of another living being considering you to be even halfway pleasant was a war crime. Which, you know, totally fair. But before your redheaded acquaintance could continue with his appalled gaping, Rook leaned over your shoulder with a smile that looked not quite right on his face. The wide brim of his hat obscured your view of the rest of him—casting the remaining slopes of his sharp features into inky darkness.

“And but of course, I know you as well, Monsieur Trappola!”

Whatever rotten, sour, look Ace had been pulling froze over into something nearly deathlike. He went so pale so quickly your thoughts swung back to wondering if maybe he really was contagious with something.

Your shaky friend? Fellow gossip? associate audibly gulped, but when neither he nor your leech of a guest said anything further, you prompted them both with a vaguely curious, “Oh? You’ve met before?”

“Not recently,” Rook trilled, sounding positively delighted. “But I suppose I am familiar with everyone in this petite ville one way or another.”

You hummed, not particularly satisfied with that non-answer of an explanation. But your brief bought of inquisitiveness was quickly being overshadowed by the very real risk that Ace may actually topple over frothing at the mouth and twitching like a rabid racoon at your doorstep. Which would no doubt be terrible for business.

“You better get going,” you prompted, debating giving him a shove with your foot. “Before you start running behind on your pickups.”

“Right…” Ace muttered, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “I should—I’ll be doing that. Leaving. I’ll be leaving.”

“Adieu, Monsieur Trappola!~” Rook called, as the door slid shut with a pleasant tingle. “I’m certain we’ll be seeing you!”

There was a lingering, creaking, da-dong sound from overhead and you wondered idly if maybe there was something a bit off with your bells.

.

.

That afternoon, after you finally heaved an exhausted sigh of relief and flipped the ‘OPEN’ sign at your storefront to ‘CLOSED,’ Rook was still perched on the little stool you’d set out for him. The late-day sunshine cast him in all sorts of unfamiliar shades of gold, and while the shadows beneath his feet had always seemed to stretch a bit long and sit a bit oddly, they twitched even more strangely in the glow of the summer light. You blinked at him in open surprise, and he blinked back at you.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Mon chéri, I am always here!” he chirped, and you rolled your eyes towards the ceiling in a silent bid for patience.

“No you’re not,” you argued. “I think I would have noticed.”

Rook held a gloved hand to his mouth to smother a laugh and shook his head at you like you were just the funniest little thing.

“As you say, my tenacious pâtissier.”

You sighed and moved to untie the ribbon of your apron. “Whatever. I suppose I could use your help anyways. I need to run to the markets.”

The Bounty Hunter’s eyes lit with that familiar, sparkling, enthusiasm and he clasped his fingers in his lap with a gust of breath that sounded like it rattled every one of his bones as it squeaked its way out of him.You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You hoped he hadn’t caught whatever mystery ailment Ace had been sagging under when he’d arrived at your door that morning.

“Shopping!” he outright beamed, putting the glitter of the afternoon sun to shame. “Une nouvelle aventure avec mon amour! Et en journée! Temps à passer avec—”

“Enoughwith your nonsense,” you groaned, tossing your dirtied apron onto a free hook. “Do you want to come or not?”

“But of course! I would be most honored to—”

You shoved a wicker basket into his hands and hurriedly moved to usher him out the door before he could begin monologuing in earnest.

Rook walked the familiar path to the markets like a tourist on holiday—stopping every now and again to wax poetic about the way that a potted flower looked in the afternoon light, staring in awe at each bizarre crack in the pavement as if it was a natural marvel worth gawking at. He muttered something dazedly under his breath at one point about ‘what messes might embed themselves in these fissures of the earth,’ but you carried on like you’d gone blind and deaf. A skill you’d become incredibly proficient with as of late.

When you finally arrived at the little hub of stalls, there was an audible gasp from somewhere in the thin crowds. You decided once again that you were better off feigning impairment and pushed onwards as if you had no idea that people were parting around you and your new companion like the pair of you were riddled with plague sores. The gossipy man who sold you your favorite strawberries went a bit green when you approached, and you continued merrily with your farce.

You had only just leaned forward to get a better look at some of the berries you tended to hoard like a dragon to gold, when suddenly the bright reds and blues beneath your fingers went nearly grey—nearly rotten. There was a long, sharp, shadow curling along the fruit. Rook was hovering at your shoulder, as he of course tended to do, and you glanced between him and the twisting, creeping, darkness swallowing the contents of the little stall in front of you. Clearly it was his purple-clad frame blocking the sunlight and casting all these weird shadows, but it was still a bit bizarre. It was like the brightness itself was being sucked from the afternoon, rather than just the cool play of the light that it ought to be.

You reached out curiously to poke a finger into the dancing bits of darkness and were surprised to find that it felt like something solid. A tangible sort of bite against your skin. Something sharp, and cold as the grave—

“Perhaps the melons, mon cœur!” Rook chirped loudly, redirecting your prodding with a cheery nudge. “They smell enticingly ripe.”

You hummed, your musings on the unnatural settling into the back of your mind in favor of reaching out to give the fruits a good shake. They did feel quite nice.

Rook swayed a bit at your shoulder, and you glanced up at him with an arched brow.

“Are you alright?”

“I do not often spend time in the sun,” he admitted, and you blinked once again at those lanky shadows before turning on him with a tight, little, frown.

“You should have said something,” you scolded. “I would have brought you a—” your eyes landed on his wide brimmed hat and its cheerful, black, feather as it bobbed in the breeze. “…never mind. But you still should have told me.”

“Ah, your worry is a balm upon ma pauvre âme!” he crooned, resting his palm against his heart. “What has a wretched creature such as I done to earn such warm regard? And alas—what then could this poor beast do to maintain such a blessing?”

“He could help me find a bag of milled flour for one thing,” you sighed, hoping to derail the burgeoning soliloquy.

“But of course!” he chirped and immediately darted off around a corner to hunt down what you’d asked of him.

You gathered up a heaping portion of fresh berries (back to the their healthy, summer, glow now that your shadow had been sent away), and ruffled around in your bag to retrieve the coppers needed to pay for your haul. The vendor reached out a shaky hand to clasp at your wrist and you raised a brow at him curiously.

“Are you okay?” he hissed, still a very unpleasant shade of sea-sick.

“Are any of us really?” you intoned blandly, and dropped the required coins neatly on the cart.

You’d only just turned back around when Rook came trotting back through the rows of carts—three gigantic sacks of flour tossed over one shoulder. It looked absolutely ridiculous, with the mass of them rising far past his head and setting his hat at an awkward slope.

“That seems a little excessive,” you sighed.

“Non, non!” he argued. “You are nearly out! There will certainly not be enough to prepare both the croissants and that lovely chocolate cake you were planning to make.”

“Oh,” you blinked, and mentally tried to tally up whatever had remained of your provisions. He was probably right—you’d gone a bit overboard experimenting with different types of pretzel dough. “You don’t mind carrying that, do you?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “That all looks like it weighs nearly as much as you do.”

Rook chuckled pleasantly under his breath, and somehow managed to dip forward into a bow that didn’t end with the enormous sacks balanced atop his shoulders spilling forward all over the road.

“It would be my pleasure, mon cœur,” he smiled, very nearly a purr.

You shrugged and went back to meandering contentedly through the stalls, happy to push all of the menial physical labor off onto someone who seemed more than delighted to relish in its ache. Rook trailed merrily at your heels—the sun heavy at his back and highlighting each step with those dripping, inky, shadows. The faint outline of a ragged, hooded, robe brushed nearly unseen through the dirt, broken only by trailing, white, puffs of loose flour.

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[purrpletiger]

Things Fresh's stupid glasses say

Hello everybody! I'm back on my Fresh fan nonsense I wanted to make a collage of every time I've seen CQ draw Fresh's sunglasses saying anything that's not "YOLO".

The words on his glasses seem to be able to be changed by him at will, as well as subconsciously(?)... And his host can communicate using them too(though it would probably be incredibly difficult and potentially painful for them to go against Fresh's control like that), their words will just be in a different color than the usual cyan and yellow that Fresh uses.

Context for each:

"OH NO" and "NOLO" - His glasses said that when he was around Sage because he can't stand her

"2EDGE 4U" - His glasses default to this when he possesses UnderFell Sans, it seems like just a replacement for the "YOLO"... so his glasses can probably change to other things while he's still possessing Fell, they'll probably just go back to "2EDGE 4U" after.

"ERROR" - His glasses said this when he possessed Error.

"WHAT" - Ok I'm not even gonna explain this one, it's a lot, baby Fresh is just flabbergasted

"!!! !!!" - Fresh is shocked that Salt would humor the idea of doing drugs

"HO HO" - Festive christmas time! This is a replacement for the usual "YOLO", so his glasses can still change but they default back to "HO HO".

"BRAH" - His glasses say this while he's laughing with Underswap!Sans about something.

"RUDE" - His glasses say this when he's completely ignored by Underswap!Papyrus.

"OH MY" - Another context I won't explain, just know it's from the 'What If Error and Blue were Super Duper Gay' video.

"WHY DO I EXIST" - same context as the "OH MY".

"YOU'RE FUNKIN DEAD" - No context for you, I refuse, if you're curious message me lol

"PLZ end all this" and "Help Me" - His glasses flicker to these words because his Sans host is trying to fight back to communicate with Error.

blank glasses - His grin and silly "YOLO" are gone as Fresh is telling Pacifrisk the serious truth about his faked emotions.

[lovecite]

Your Choice

Kyojuro Rengoku x y/n (fem reader)

It was the choice for any slayer if they wanted keep their blood line going. They dedicated their life to the cause of demon slaying and thus never had chances to settle and marry. Ever focusing on training and serving for the greater good.

But the more families sent their beloved son's to risk their lives the more they realized that their could be a possibility to the end of family lines. An out cry from the families of slain slayers almost made an end to new recruits. Why send our sons to death? You are not only killing them but you are killing our family!

So upon the idea of many of the higher ups it came down to this. Have the slayers and their family come up with a choice of an arranged marriage.

------This is an idea I thought about for demon slayer. Since it's set in a time of where most families required sons to continue their family bloodline by having children. And of course Zenitsu in the episode when he was trying to marry someone because he was going to "die" lol . So, written kinda choppy and fast so please excuse that! --This one was written by me--

theme song that helped my creative juices flow :

*****Princess Jellyfish - Opening - Just Between Us-******

Other songs that helped me get with it~~

Nonsense- Sabrina Carpenter

One & Only- Oliver Tree

Super Shy- NewJeans

Seven- Jung Kook

Your choice

*****🔥*****

You were sold by your family. They were promised if no slayer claimed you they would still be paid monthly. If a slayer claimed you ,she would be welcomed into the family of what ever slayer and your family again would be taken care of. It was a win win but you were the only loser here. And here your story starts of when you meet Kyojuro Rengoku

"I understand that my father has chosen a wife for me, ma'am. " A voice so loud declared . His very voice shook your core . How could someone be so loud? You were seated behind a white cream colored screen seated like a proper women would. Your head was bowed with a white veil draped over your head hiding your features.

You were dressed in the finest kimono's known to your family. A beautiful green emerald with a hint of yellow flowers. Your gaze focused on the grooves of the mat below you trying to focus your breathing because the drumming from your heart drowned out your hearing. This was it. You were going to finally be married and make your family finally proud.. But of course what that was your only choice.

"Y-yes your father and mother actually meet this way as well. One of the most beautiful of stories. It no wonder why your father fell so hard when she pass-" " Ah I see then most of beautiful women have been chosen for this." The boisterous voice interrupted the older women with a hint of an undertone of being bothered it seemed . Your heart felt uncomfortable in your own chest as you waited for this conversation to end. Every time you heard him it grew tighter and tighter.

You had been rejected once before by a Hashira. You could still remember his face being so pale and those blue eyes being so empty. He had wondered in wanting to be married. As soon as he had seen you he walked away with out another word a red blush faint on his cheeks as he walked ever so fast straight out.

Now it seemed all the other women called you a curse. Some making snarky comments to the head mistress of this compound. "She should be taken out back and sold." " I can't believe a pillar rejected her."

The word of a hashira rejecting her spread like wild fire to the other women. And so you heard the slayers had been told the rumors as well. Why? A man with white hair came to you as well. A scar from ear and over his nose. His eyes is what you remembered the most. So wide open as he searched your gaze. Stating he wanted to see why a stoic man would run off from such a beautiful women. He wanted some gossip to throw in the other man’s face but you had none to give. Which of course made the white haired man angry that he had traveled here and was leaving with no juicy gossip.

But it seemed not all had heeded the warning. Because here you sat on the other side of the white cream paper thin wall. Your to be husband on the other side. You dare not look up for fear of more bad luck.

"oh lord Rengoku just as your father!" the older women cackled at a joke the man had stated. Of course this was nothing new. This type of arrangement. It started when their were low numbers of demon slayers. Most wanting to be sure their blood line was not stopped due to being called for this noble deed. “I am honored my father has chosen me for this task. I must state that I do have a mission to go tomorrow. Will this take long?” He asked. A giggled escaped the women’s mouth. “Lord Rengoku , as you know upon signing the agreement you must stay 1 week with your wife. To be sure a heir is produced.” The older women countered. The man hummed . “My apologizes of course.” He responded. “And we have mapped out the girls cycle to be sure th-”

Your face felt hot within seconds at the women’s response. Of course they had to go into every detail but that did not mean you could not be embarrassed that your monthly’s details would be shared to your husband.

“Oh I understand of course what you are saying. It must be this week.” He stated his tone dialing down slightly in a whisper .

You carefully brought your head up slowly. You did not want to ring a single bell that was attached to the veil. Was it wrong for a women to know what her to be husband to look like? Through the veil you could see past the thin fabric and to the creamy white paper thin wall. A single candle on the other side lite and brought a shadow from the the two figures on the other side of this thin papered wall. The outline of the women who took care of us women looked like a big blob while a much thinner one sat in front of them.

You couldn't help but take in the shadows edges. His hair on top of his head seemed like the designs of a child's drawing of the sun. And he sat so proper up straight like a pin needle. Then the shadows moved. You quickly looked back down to the grooves of the mat below your legs. "I feel as if my heart will pounce out of my chest." blurted your so to be husband. The older women laughed before she pulled the sliding door to the side. Finally.

Would he too run off and leave you here?

You dare not bring your eyes upward until the older women ordered you too. So You sat there eyes focused on the floor. "oh yes. One of the most beautiful women we have here sir. A great pick from you father." the women claimed. You felt a tight grasp on your shoulder as you were pulled upwards from the floor. Your legs felt as If you had stepped on millions of needles due to the length of time you were seated. You let out a gasp as you were forced upward. Nearly falling back down a much more gentler grasp around your waist caught you.

"Do be careful how you step." He whispered . You hadn’t thought he was that close to you but when he spoke you could feel the warmth of his breathe on your cheek. You wanted to see him! Your eyes were covered by the damn veil and you struggled to take off the thin scrap of fabric. You could also feel him trying to swiftly take off the veil as well but the fabrics many layers made it hard.

“My faceless wife what a way to meet you.” He joked. "Oh here . Let me help!” the older women countered. The tug made your head go back awkwardly as she yanked it. You closed your eyes quickly as the fabric glided along your face.

“Father choose well. I approve !” Kyojuro remarked as if he were simply talking about a fabric item.

You stayed still in his grasp around your waist. He pulled you close to his chest your hands resting lightly over him. You could feel his every breathe below your palm. And his heart beating so fast. “I am happy once again we have made a great pairing within the Rengoku family!” The older women claimed as she clasped her hands together.

"I will write my father and give great thanks!” he stated as his firm hand around your waist tighten slightly. Your gaze hyper focused on his nice shaved chin. Your eyes shifted to his shoulders and could make out peaks of yellow blonde and red hair. "Please bring your gaze up to mine so that I may finally greet you." His tone soften when addressing you. He gripped your chin carefully with his thumb and pointer finger. He adjusted your head moving your head slightly back. Your gaze slowly taking in his face starting from his chin and then soon upwards.

You felt your breathing had stopped. His striking orange gaze piercing right through you. His bushy brows so pointed. His hair like the sun. His eyes closed as his head tilted slightly to the right and a smile appeared slowly across his face. "I am Kyojuro of the Rengoku family. My father has chosen well." He added to to his greeting. His eyes slowly opened very wide as they flickered like flames to take in your face. "Your kimono is very beautiful. If that is your favorite color I will buy more for you." He mumbled as his gaze fell down to your outfit. You still could not respond to him.

His expressions never wavering as he spoke. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you. " Do not fear me." He instructed as he allowed for you to catch your footing. His arm slipping back from around your waist and to his side. "This ceremony is very fast. Whatever you feel we should not do tell me." of course. If the slayer had accepted the girl it was as if the wedding had happened and they of course had to consummate the marriage. Thus falling into trying to have the child for the continued blood line this .

You however were told that you did not have a choice. So of course you took a step forward placing your hands over his chest. Never breaking out eye contact you slowly went on your tip toes and placed your lips over his. The flame Hashira seemed to pause. His eye brows almost hiding up into his hair line. His heart under your palms beating faster. You sat yourself back on your heels. "Your name?" he asked softly. "I am...."

Should I do another one 😍😍 or should I continue this story 🙃

[literaryavenger]

Broken - part 5

Summary: You and Bucky keep bonding.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. Innocent and broken Bucky. Mentions of Bucky's past and nightmares. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.2K

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: I decided on the ending for this story, and I have only one more chapter to go! Enjoy, the last one will probably come sometime tomorrow. Also, again, it's 4:30 am and I can't help myself lol.

Masterlist

Spending time with Cassie you couldn’t help but feel better.

The more you have fun and laugh with the little girl, the more you forget about your anger against the team.

It also helps that you spend most of the day away from them, eating lunch with Cassie and Scott, who you didn’t stay mad at for too long. To be fair to him you didn’t even know him when everything happened so you don't blame him too much.

As promised, Bucky comes looking for you as soon as he and Steve get back to the tower, finding you still on Scott's floor while you guys watch Despicable Me inside a huge blanket fort Cassie insisted on building in the middle of the floor of the living room.

Thankfully the other occupants of this floor, Bruce, Thor and Loki, are still in New Asgard. He’s just about to turn around and go back to his room when you notice him.

"Hey Bucky! Where are you going, how did it go?" he looks uncertainly at Scott and his daughter before answering.

"I was just gonna…" he trails off, pointing behind him towards the elevator.

"Nonsense, come here." you tell him, patting the seat next to you in the fort.

He’s a little hesitant, but slowly comes further into the room, sitting on the ground, leaving a little space between you.

You give him a smile that he shyly returns before you hear a little voice clearing her throat, which brings your attention to the little girl on your right. "Yes, Princess Cassie?"

"And who would this be, Queen Y/N?" Bucky’s a little confused by the interaction, but says nothing.

"This is Bucky. What title would you like to give him?" Cassie thinks about it for a second while staring very intently at Bucky, narrowing her eyes at him, and you can’t hide your amusement.

That is, until Cassie suddenly lands on a role for Bucky.

"He should be the King!" she says, looking from him to you a couple of times "You guys look good together." you’re about to say something, when Scott beats you to the punch.

"She’s right, I can see it." he says putting his hands up and looking through them to frame you and Bucky together, clearly much more amused than you are at the situation.

You sigh, knowing you can’t escape this. "Well, what Princess Cassie says goes. I’m sorry, King Bucky, you’re stuck with me now."

You turn to Bucky who's still very confused, and is now also starting to turn slightly pink, so you decide to explain.

"We’re playing make believe. Cassie is the Princess, Scott is the Jester and I’m the Queen. I’m sorry to inform you you’ve been crowned King of the castle." you gesture to the fort with your hands.

"And also Y/N’s husband!" Cassie feel the need to shout, making your head snap to her with wide eyes while Bucky turns even redder, your own face starting to change color now.

"He gets it, Princess." you try not to snap at her, she’s just a kid and doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s still pretty embarrassing.

You see Scott snickering behind Cassie and glare at him as much as you can trying to go unnoticed by her, but Cassie's attention is on the super soldier now.

"You're going to play with us, right?" she asks him in a  sweet voice, making the biggest puppy eyes you've ever seen. She certainly knows what she's doing.

Bucky, who hasn't said anything until now, doesn't know what to do. He looks at you for help and you give him an encouraging smile.

He then looked at Scott, worried that the man might want Bucky anywhere near his daughter, but Scott simply nods his head with a smile.

Bucky relaxes a bit and turned his attention back to the little girl, trying to find the right thing to say.

"Of course I'll play with you. After all, the Princess’ word is law." Cassie starts giggling at the bow he gives her, and you're almost giddy at seeing this side of Bucky, more relaxed than he's been since he got here.

Granted, it was just a couple of days ago, but he seems to be making a lot of progress really fast, so far, just like Steve said after he hugged you yesterday morning.

You keep watching the movie, then the second one and you get halfway through the third when Maggie comes by to pick up Cassie.

So, with the promise not to finish the movie without her, you and Bucky say goodbye to all three and make your way to your shared floor.

"You were right, she really is adorable." Bucky says with a smile as you get into the elevator.

"I know, it’s pretty hard to stay mad at Scott when he lets me hang out with her." you smile back at him. "So, how did your meeting go?"

You see Bucky tense and feel a little bad. You really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but you were genuinely curious and also wanted to support him. After all you know having a hearing isn’t certainly gonna be easy.

"I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to." You quickly reassure him and he seems to relax and gives you a nod.

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let it go. But Bucky had a question himself.

"Why are you ignoring everyone but me?" you sigh.

You don't blame him for being curious, you yourself are as nosy as they come. Always in a respectful manner, of course.

"I’m mad at them." You simply say. "They selfishly kept a pretty big thing from me. They made me feel bad, knowing they were lying to me. They’re my family, they should trust me more than this. I’ll get over it, eventually, but for now I’m happy avoiding everybody." you shrug. You know it’s kind of childish, but you also don’t care.

"Okay, I understand that… But why are you not avoiding me?" Now you’re confused.

"Why would I avoid you?" he bows his head in shame, not meeting your eyes as you exit the elevator and you already know you’re not going to like his answer.

"I’m the reason it all happened in the first place… it’s all my fault." You can feel the sadness in his voice, you can see he actually feels bad about causing this.

You, on the other hand, don't agree.

"Bucky," you start, stopping right in front of him, forcing him to stop too, looking up and quickly putting his hands on your arms to make sure you don't fall after almost colliding with you. "you can’t blame yourself for other people’s choices. Steve chose to help you, Tony chose to fight it, everybody else chose a side. None of it was on you. You didn’t ask anybody to do anything. So, please, stop feeling guilty."

Bucky looks at you silently for a few moments and you feel like he's searching your face for any hint that you might be lying, that you don't really believe what you were saying.

But he doesn't to find any so he nods and says "I’ll try." with his hands still on your arms and it's like you're suddenly registering just how close he is and how warm his touch is on your skin.

He’s about to say something else, when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Bucky drops his hands from you like they burned and you turn around, almost feeling like you got caught doing something wrong when you see Steve and Sam just standing there looking at you two.

Steve has that stupid grin on his face that he doesn’t seem to be able to wipe every time he sees you and Bucky together, but Sam looks more concerned than anything.

"Everything okay here?" he says and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his insinuation that something might be wrong just because you’re alone with Bucky.

You turn back to the brunette super soldier and smile at him "I’m gonna go to my room, I still have some reports to finish. See you later?"

You wait until he nods and then get on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek like this morning, smiling a little more when you back away and see a little pink hue coming back to his face, but with a smile nonetheless.

You turn around and pass the other two men without saying a word, hearing them sigh behind you as you walk away towards your room.

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you don’t feel like forgiving anybody else just yet.

So that’s how you find yourself spending more and more time with Bucky.

It feels like you spent all your free time with each other, only being apart at night and when Bucky joins the team for dinner.

He tried to get out of it multiple times to join you when you would eat in the kitchen of your floor, but Steve insists that it would be better for him to be around the team, even if just for an hour a day, and you fully agree.

That, however, doesn’t stop him from joining you afterwards just so you won't have to eat alone, for which you're grateful.

Initially Bucky's pretty content just following you around like a lost puppy, a fact that Sam and Steve never fail to mention as it amuses them to no end.

But Bucky doesn't care, and neither do you as you enjoy each other’s presence, even in silence.

Bucky likes watching you go about your day, still amazed by everything you do and you like having him near you. It makes you feel safe.

Still, the more time you spent together, the more comfortable he feels around you.

The real turning point comes when one night you open your door to find a disheveled looking Bucky, and you know immediately that him knocking at your door at 3 am meant nothing good.

Which is confirmed when he sniffles and you realize he has tears streaming down his face.

Without saying anything you hold out your hand, which he instantly takes as he lets you guide him inside, shutting the door behind him.

You walk to the bed and sit down, hand still in his and, when he just stands there you tug on it, silently letting him know that it's okay for him to join you.

You expect him to sit next to you as he’s done countless times now while leaving a respectful space between you, always the gentleman.

What you didn’t expect is him crawling into your bed, taking you to lay down with him, and hugging you as tightly as he can without hurting you, his legs also wrapping around yours.

To say you're shocked right now is an understatement. You always made a point to keep physical touch to a minimum when it comes to Bucky, not wanting to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

But here he is, clinging to you like a scared little kid, crying his eyes out with his head buried in the crook your neck.

You wrap your arms around his shaking body, hugging him as tight as he is, rubbing his back to try and soothe him, whispering what you hope are words of encouragement in his ear. 

You stay like that for a while until he finally calms down and stops crying.

You don’t rush him to let go or to talk about it, letting him decide if and when he's ready to talk at all.

After a few minutes of total silence you think the poor guy cried himself to sleep, but he proves you wrong by moving his head away from your neck and placing it on your chest.

You feel him play with your necklace as he starts talking with a quiet voice that reminds you of the first day you met him. "I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t want to bother you, but I didn’t want to be alone and had nowhere else to go." and your heart breaks for him.

"Don’t apologize, Buck. You can always come to me, it doesn’t matter what time it is."

He looks up, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him, and seems like he's about to say something else but thinks better of it, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

He settles for giving you a gentle squeeze and moving his head back to lay on you, but you don't need words to know he's grateful for your understanding.

He's seemingly unashamed of the way he's still clinging to you and you’d be lying if you said you mind being so close to him either.

You start running your hand through his hair, which he seems to appreciate, and, after a few more minutes of silence, he starts speaking again.

He tells you about the nightmares he’s been having ever since he escaped Hydra, and that tonight, after a particularly gruesome one, he just couldn’t stand being alone.

He doesn't go into too much detail about the dream but tells you enough for you to want to take a few firearms and track down every single person connected to Hydra so you can put as many bullets in them as you can carry, then light them on fire for good measure.

But, Bucky being your first priority, you stay where you are and try your best to comfort him, eventually changing the subject to keep his mind off the nightmare.

You talk until the sun comes up, birds chirping, but neither of you make a move to get up at any point, eventually falling asleep for a couple of hours in each other’s arms.

Part 6

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The Art of Etiquette Part 7 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Going gown shopping is proving to be a bit more difficult than you had expected and Jungkook doesn't make it any easier Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 4.7k~ Warnings: I don't think there's any need for warnings but so much teasinggg a/n: Sorry this too so long to get out 😭 I've lost motivation to write these days so it's been taking a bit longer for me to get chapters out but I hope you guys like it! p.s. kinda sorta edited lol I just wanted to get it out already Start from the beginning

After talking to Jesse last night about everything that happened between Jungkook and I, I've been even more confused than I was to begin with.

"HE KISSED YOU?!?!" Jesse yells into the phone making me cringe as I pull it away to save my hearing but ultimately fail. 

"I don't know, kind of but not really. He leaned in and kissed my cheek but his lips did brush up against the side of my mouth so I don't know. I'm just so confused because at the start I thought he hated me. He was rude and demanding and always tried to intimidate me. I will admit that it worked sometimes but I just never know what he actually wants from me" I complain while switching to my airpods so I can walk around my room and talk to him while looking for an outfit. 

"I think you're over thinking things. I think it all comes down to the fact that he found you challenging at first so that might've been why you thought that he hated you" he explains. 

"Challenging? What's that supposed to mean?" I question, flipping through the clothes in my closet, struggling to find something that's comfortable but not too casual, easy to take off so it makes trying on dresses a bit easier but doesn't make me look like I didn't put in any effort. You would think I was getting dressed for a first date or something based off the existential crisis I seem to be having. 

"He probably thought you were some bratty rich kid that needed a real push to break out of that mold. I bet he's had to deal with a lot of divas in his time. Don't take it personally though, I'm sure that he just goes into those first few lessons with that mindset and then loosens up a bit as you go along. Or at least that's what I would think based off of what you've told me" he explains. 

"You're probably right" I agree while trying to choose between two colors of what sweater to wear. "Pink or Blue?" I question and without hesitation he chooses pink. "What did you end up putting together?" he asks, eager to know what I've settled on. 

"Pink sweater, white skirt with nude colored leggings and some white boots. Oh and I'm pairing it with the white pea coat James got for me last Christmas" I relay, going through the outfit in my head, leaving everything on their hangers so I won't have to worry about too many wrinkles tomorrow.     

"Why are you dressing so...girly? I mean you're a girl obviously but I figured you would go with something a little more...black" he chuckles, thinking about my usual choice in attire. 

"Jungkook would send me back upstairs to change before he would take me somewhere dressed in all black clothing. He wants me to remember to dress like a lady so I might as well go into it right off the bat so I can avoid another scolding. Plus I figured a skirt would be a lot easier to take off and put back on again since I'll be trying on a few dresses" I say while finally getting myself ready for bed.

"Fair enough. If I were you though I would tell him that the only way I'm taking these clothes off is if you take them off of me if he had a problem with your outfit" he teases, making me roll my eyes at him, amused but embarrassed by his nonsense. "Jesse he's my teacher" I point out for the millionth time, hoping to get him to back off but I know it's pointless. 

"As much as you would like me to jump his bones I need to remember the purpose of our relationship. I don't want to cause James any trouble with messing around with him. I could just see the headlines, 'CEO's step daughter sleeps with her etiquette teacher', I do not  want to have to deal with the backlash from my mother either. If something were to happen between us it could ruin his reputation, making people think that he sleeps with all of his students. Plus who knows, he could've slept with his past students based off of how forward he has been with me" I say while throwing myself onto my bed and staring up at the ceiling. 

"He may be an adonis but I don't think he's the type of guy that would do that. Like he's an etiquette teacher girl, if he was to have had a scandal with a student in the past I'm sure it would've come out by now" he reasons with me and I hum in acknowledgement. 

"I guess you're right" I mumble and soon wrap up our call so I can get some 'Proper beauty sleep' according to Jesse but for the life of me I can't sleep a wink. With all of these questions spinning round and round in my head I just can't seem to ease my mind until I'm jolted awake by my alarm. 

'I guess I was able to sleep a bit' I think to myself before jumping into the shower and rushing to get ready. This'll be the first time Jungkook has seen me bright and early in the morning and not run down after a long day at school so I guess it's best if I make a good impression. 

After putting on my lip gloss to complete the look I'm met with my mother barging into my room. "You do know that Mr. Jeon is going to be here soon and oh-!" she nags quickly spewing out her speech before finally taking a look at me. 

"Look at you! I guess you really are my daughter!" she says while walking over to my mirror to stand behind me. "What's that supposed to mean?" I say crossing my arms and giving her an unamused look through the reflection. 

"It means that you look very beautiful and you're showing off your femininity and assets very well" she says referring to the shorter skirt that she hasn't ever seen me wear before. "Very funny mom now can you please leave so I can finish getting ready?" I ask, shooing her away so I can get her out of my hair, literally since she had started running her fingers through it from the back. 

"Okay okay I'm going. Would you like me to let you know when he's pulling up outside?" she asks and I nod my head and at that she's off to no doubt stand and wait for the first glimpse of him by the door. 'She's more obsessed with that man than Jesse is' I mumble to myself and quickly slip on my boots and take another look at myself before I hear my mother yelling for me to come downstairs.

I open my bedroom door and hear that Jungkook is already somehow inside the house and speaking to my mother when I had anticipated for him to just wait for me by his car. "Oh good you're here! Hurry along I heard you have a very long day ahead of you so behave yourself and do exactly as he says" she lists off and I don't bother giving her an answer. 

"Don't worry Mrs. Hart, I know she's a good girl" Jungkook shamelessly responds for me. My eyes bug out and I watch the amused look spread across his face but it's gone in a flash when my mother turns her attention back to him. "Shouldn't we get going? I know how much you hate being late and I'm sure she's waiting for us already" I say in regards to the modiste that we have an appointment with. 

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I'm holding you up. Have a good day both of you and I'll see you later tonight" she says with a smile while opening the door for us. "Oh I don't think it'll take that lo-" "I won't keep her out too late" Jungkook jumps in and I shut my mouth at his response, knowing I really have no say in the matter but also losing my wording when he places his hand on my waist to guide me over to the car. 

Walking over towards it I realize that he's switched from a four seater car to a two seater and I can't help but wonder if his motives were to not give me any other choice but to sit next to him. "I didn't realize you had another car" I say while he opens the door for me and I sit down and almost squeak at the feeling of the seats sinking down a lot lower than expected and he smirks at my reaction. 

"I have a few but I tend to take this one out every once in a while since it does best on longer trips" he informs before shutting the door for me. I nod my head while he walks around the car and gets in a lot more gracefully than I had which makes me roll my eyes and turn my face away from him. 

"Here" he says handing me an iced coffee "Oh thank you but I don't drink coffee, it makes me anxious" I say politely rejecting. "I know, Matthew told me so I got you a chai latte since to his knowledge, tends to be your favorite" he says. I thank him and receive it with both hands, my cheeks showing a dusting of pink at the thought that again he bothered to make sure he got me something that I would like. He even got me an iced one since I like those better even when it's cold outside. 

I take a couple of sips as he pulls out of the driveway and onto the street before taking notice that I had forgotten something. "Mr. Jeon I'm sorry but do you think we could turn back around? I forgot to grab my coat" I admit, cringing at the thought of inconveniencing him and messing up the schedule for today. 

"It's alright, you can just borrow mine" he says with a slight smile, no hint of irritation or condescension. "But I don't want you to be cold I-" "Y/n it's fine, I don't mind. If anything we can get you another coat once we go looking for the shoes to match your dress" he says and relaxes into his seat. 

His left hand on the wheel with his right placed on his lap where I notice that he's spreading his legs a bit further than I've seen him do before, making me gulp at the sight and turn my face away from him. 

"Is that alright with you?" he questions, making me look back over at him. "What?" I ask, not sure if I had lost track of the conversation or not. "Do you feel comfortable borrowing my jacket or should we turn back around?" he questions glancing over at me. 

"Only if you're sure" I say, wanting to give him the option to change his mind. "If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered. I'm asking if you're alright with it" he says and I reply simply saying yes but that's not good enough for him.

"Yes what y/n? I thought we had agreed upon using our words" he taunts and my breath hitches at the fist sign of his flirtatious attitude for the day. "Yes Mr. Jeon, I would feel comfortable borrowing your jacket" I say but he presses further. "I thought we had agreed on being more informal with each other as well" he teases and I look over at  him with a confused face as to why it would make a difference for him.

"Say my name" he says darkly causing a fluttering sensation to bloom in my stomach. "I-, what?" I stutter, not expecting this sort of behavior from him this early in the morning. 

"Say. My. Name. Or would you rather us go back to addressing each other formally?" he questions while he stops at a red light and cocks his brow at me. "Yes Jungkook, thank you for letting me borrow your jacket" I say quietly after a pause, my brain not being awake enough to come up with any smart remarks.

He smiles at that and focuses back on the road and offers me the aux to play some music since the drive is so far. "Try not to fall asleep on me again like last time. Wouldn't want to have to clean the drool off your face again" he teases while holding the chord up for me and making our hands touch since he doesn't seem to want to let go right away. 

I bring my hand down to plug my phone in and he lets his follow mine, keeping them connected for a second, letting his warm hand rest on my thigh before bringing it back towards himself and placing it back on his lap. I clear my throat to get my bearings again and quickly plug it in and play some low fi music which gets him to glance over at me again. 

"What? You don't like it?" I question feeling insecure about my choice since I don't really know what his taste in music is. Unless it's just the ballroom music that we've been dancing to for weeks now but I highly doubt that. 

"No, I do. I'm just sure that a playlist like this one would be the exact thing that would put you to sleep" he says with a crooked smile. "Well I just wasn't sure what you would like and so I figured low fi would be a safe choice" I explain and see that he's still smiling.

 "What?" I question and he glances over at me, making me suspicious of him and all of his reactions. "It's just cute that you put thought into choosing something that you thought I might like as well" he says with a lilt in his voice. 

"I just wanted both of us to enjoy the music that's all" I say, crossing my arms over my chest as a defense mechanism to hide the fact that he's made my heart rate pick up with his simple words. "And that's what I found cute about it" he says, rubbing it in since he can clearly see that it's making me shy. 

"You know, you can be quite irritating sometimes right?" I say as a way to defend myself and make him stop teasing me. "Who me? Am I not allowed to compliment a pretty girl for acting cute?" he plays coy and before I'm able to respond he corrects himself. "Excuse me, a beautiful woman from acting kindly towards me" he finishes and I can't seem to come up with any response to it so instead I choose to angle my body away from him and look out the window. 

"You can put on something you like instead. I tend to enjoy all genres of music" he says, reeling in the teasing and giving me a break thankfully. I in spite, choose to go with one of my angsty playlists full of artists like Simple Plan, Blink 182 and Linkin Park, thinking that it would be something he wouldn't enjoy but to my surprise I catch him drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. 

As the playlist shuffles through the songs I catch him singing along to the opening of Bring Me to Life by Evanescence and it's then when I turn my body to face him again. "You know this song?" I question, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You didn't think that you were the only one who had their emo phase did you?" he laughs and again I'm given another reason to see him in another light. 

As the song progresses we end up doing the call and response of it, with him settling on the guy's part and myself on the girl's and somehow it all just clicks. It's as if we were just two friends on a roadtrip together and it feels, nice? Right? I don't know but it's as if we'd known each other for our whole lives.

There's a comfortable silence once the song comes to a close and we both glance at each other a few moments later and laugh it off. "You weren't kidding when you said you had an emo phase" I tease and he laughs in response. 

"We promised to be honest with each other have we not?" he chuckles after calming down a bit with me, wiping away the few tears that had fallen in the midst of my laughter. "You're right, we have" I respond and again we settle into a comfortable silence before he asks me a question to keep me talking. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" he questions, glancing over at me before turning his attention back towards the road. "I mean there's not much to tell" I say, not having anything in particular stick out to me but he unsurprisingly presses nonetheless.

"There must be something going on in that pretty little head of yours" he teases I take in a sharp breath, his compliments always catching me off guard. "Why do you always compliment me and tease me like that?" I say quickly without giving my brain a second to stop me. "Tease you like what?" he asks with a huge smile, not expecting me to just come out and say it. 

"Why do you do that Jungkook?" I ask, using his first name to show him I'm serious about this question. "Do you not like it when I compliment you?" he deflects. "Answer the question Jungkook" I reiterate since he doesn't have a care in the world at this point. 

"Because you're beautiful" he admits as if it would have no effect on me. "I-" "What? You expect me to spend this much time with you and not come to notice how beautiful you are?" he asks, looking over at me as we reach a stop light. I sit there without an answer, not knowing whether I should acknowledge his words or just brush them off. 

We had agreed to be less formal with each other but did he think that was a green light to trying to pursue me? I've gotta talk to Jesse about this. 

"Looks like we made it just in time" he states a few minutes later as we pull up to the modiste, seeing that the kind woman that had helped us out before waving at us through the window. 

"You ready?" he asks, scaring me at the sudden concern in his voice. "You're scaring me" I laugh off and watch as he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door for me.

"Let's just say it's going to be a long day" he explains, holding his hand out for me to take and I graciously do. Seeing how low these seats sink down I would probably make a fool out of myself if I were to try and get out on my own. 

Once I stand up I stumble a bit and lose my footing leaving me bracing myself on his chest, my hands pressed firmly against his pectorals but I push off of them once I feel them flex under his incredibly tailored dress shirt and again lose my balance but he pulls me in close by the waist before I can manage to tumble back down into the car. 

"You alright?" he smirks with his hand still firmly against my waist and his hand pressed against the car behind me, placing us in a similar position we had been in just last night. "I'm fine" I say after clearing my throat and placing my hand on top of the one he has on my waist as a way to request for him to let me go. 

"Hey, are we okay?" He asks, tilting his head to meet my downward turned gaze. "Why wouldn't we be?" I question, felling on fire being this close to him. "I just hope I haven't made you feel uncomfortable. I really do think you're beautiful" he says, placing a hand on my cheek and bringing my chin up to face him. 

"Can we talk about this later? She's watching" I ask, nodding toward the dressmaker inside who is clearly enjoying the show. "I don't mind, I just want to make sure that we're okay" he says, deepening his gaze if even possible and I just nod and utter a quick yes before slipping out of his grasp and speed walking to the door. 

He braces both of his hands on the roof on the car I had just been leaning against and lets out a dry chuckle before pushing off and closing the door, catching the last glimpse of me scurrying into the shop. 'Cute' is the only word that comes to mind for him at our whole exchange and my reactions to it all and it would continue to be his reaction throughout the whole day as he watches me try to find the perfect dress. 

~~~~

"Welcome back dearie" she greets me with a knowing smile, not even bothering to pretend she hadn't seen everything that transpired between Jungkook and I. "Good to see you again" I say, meeting her with a shy smile, hoping she won't address the topic, or at least with Jungkook right on my heels. 

"I'm sorry ma'am in all of the excitement from the first time I had been here I never managed to catch your name" I say, scolding myself for forgetting to even ask. "You can call me Genevieve dear. And remember, I said you could lose the formality with me, especially since I would love to have some girl talk with you about Mr. Jeon" she teases with a wink and before I'm able to protest she's already greeting Jungkook right behind me.

"Mr. Jeon how lovely to see you again. I see you've both become better acquainted with each other since the last time you were here" she says, stopping Jungkook in his tracks and leaving me clearing my throat and awkwardly requesting that we get started. 

I glance back at Jungkook and see how the tips of his ears have turned red, not having expected her to come right out with it but it makes me smile nonetheless, seeing once again that I'm not the only one that gets shy in this dynamic we have going. 

~~~~

After trying on dress after dress after dress we can't seem to find the right one. "What about the dress you picked out when we first came here? That one won't work for this event?" I yell to Jungkook from behind the curtain as Genevieve helps me out of what feels like the hundredth dress. 

"It doesn't fit the season nor the occasion. Just try on a few more and if we can't find one we can look through the catalogue and order one and come back for a fitting later on this week" he responds without a care. 

"It'll be a bit of a tight squeeze in terms of time if we were to do it that way though" she warns me as she zips up the next dress and before I can even take ten steps out of the dressing room Jungkook has already disapproved of it.

"You don't like this one?" I question looking down at it, but then after having seen it in a different lighting realize that I hate it too. "You really want to ask me that question again?" he cocks a brow at me. I let out a sigh and my whole demeanor droops as I walk back into the dressing room. 

"Hey" Jungkook says, walking up on me before I'm even able to close the curtain. "Don't scare me like that" I say, placing a hand over my chest as an automatic response. "Why don't we take a break? There's an Indian restaurant down the street from here so we can have lunch and then come back. That sound alright to you?" he asks and chuckles at seeing my face light up at the idea.

"I'll take that as a yes" he says with a smug smile. "Can you help me get out of this? Genevieve had a hard time with the zipper so I think her hands might be getting a little tired of doing this" I ask, turning my back to him and giving a perfectly innocent excuse as to why I'm seeking his help but I can see his amused smile in the small mirror that he doesn't seem to notice that's placed right in front of me.

"Of course Pretty" he smiles and he takes his time dragging the zipper down and his brows shoot up at the realization that I'm not wearing a bra with this dress and once he's finished he runs his finger along my spine, seeing a slight red mark from the constant rub of the zippers of multiple dresses and I see his brows draw together at the realization.

"Let's get you out of here. We can come back another day to continue but I think you've had enough" he says running his finger along the line once more, causing a shiver that I had been trying to hold back to run up my spine but at his concern for the slight marks the dresses had left on my skin he decides to ignore it.

"It's okay, let's go eat and once we're done I'll try on a few more. I feel like the both of us will be able to think a bit straighter on a full stomach. Don't you think?" I ask, turning around to face him with one arm placed over my chest to hold up the dress being the only space between him and my bare skin. 

"If that's what you want" he says, his eyes tracing the slight bit of bare skin he's able to see on my chest and up to my eyes. "I'll just ask her to get a few more dresses ready for us while we're gone" he says and tells me through the curtain minutes later that he'll meet me outside. 

"You're a sly one love" Genevieve says as I come out of the dressing room fully clothed. "What makes you say that?" I question, tilting my head in confusion. "You knew I was coming back in a few seconds but asked him to unzip the dress for you anyway" she says and I widen my eyes, surprised that she has seen that exchange. "Nothing goes on in this shop without me knowing love" she chuckles at my reaction and gives me a little jar of salve. 

"What's this?" I question curiously, turning the jar over in my hands. "Mr. Jeon noticed the red marks the dresses left on your back and got worried so he asked me if I had anything that might with that" she says giving me a quick wink. "Now hurry along love and I'll see you soon" she says ushering me out and watching as I walk up to Jungkook leaning against my side of the car and looking up when he hears me coming. 

"You sure you want to come back today? I can ask her to schedule another day for us to come back" he says, still leaning against the car with his arms now crossed over his chest and observing my form to see any signs of discomfort but the only thing that has me nervous are his wandering eyes.

"I'm fine Jungkook I promise" I say while looking down and pulling on the sleeve on my sweater in an effort to warm up my hands a bit and shield them from the cold. He hooks his finger under my chin and brings my eyes up to him and studies my features before making the decision that I'm still up for the task. 

"Okay" he agrees, caressing my face for a second before using that same hand and places it on my waist and turns to open the car door and helps me in again. He places his coat over my lap, noticing that I'm shivering. I murmur a quick thank you before he closes the door, going around the car to get to the driver's side, waving at Genevieve before getting in the car as well. 

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