#built in white coat rack

[ehbeesea3]

New York Mudroom Mudroom Large transitional slate floor entryway photo with beige walls and a white front door

[dinahjane97]

Multiuse - Transitional Laundry Room

[ernestoperry]

DC Metro Mudroom Large transitional ceramic tile and gray floor entryway photo with gray walls and a white front door

[dirkdarmstaedter]

DC Metro Mudroom

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 8.6k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt, flirting, Stripper!Billy and Stripper!Steve making an appearance

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You finally buy something you feel pretty in, and Eddie invites you to his house to finally meet his friends... Who are also his Co-Workers.

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing support in this story! Next chapter is when things get spicier! So follow me and click the notifications for my postings since I will close the taglist for now!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

PART 3

“No.” Robin deadpans at you as you hold a white t-shirt up to her. You frowned as you turned it to look at it yourself.

“What’s wrong with it? The collar is lower!” You try to defend but in all honesty you knew you were just going for the safe options. It’s been an hour since you arrived at the mall and even if you wanted to come here alone Robin insisted on helping after you told her what Eddie told you.

She was surprised, incredibly surprised, because she never thought it had to do with your self-esteem, and that drove you to have no experience in a lot of things. You didn’t know how to do your own make-up, how to dress yourself, how to talk without feeling the need to overdo it, or even how to flirt. This was all based on confidence you never had, confidence you never built in yourself, confidence you never really felt like having because you thought the opportunities didn’t happen for you.

But now, Robin was doing her best to not murder you. You have been showing her bland t-shirts, soft cardigans, some jeans, and nothing that would be different from what you usually wear. She wanted you to do the picking by yourself, so that you could find your own style, but her patience was growing thinner and thinner each second that ticked. 

“What’s wrong with it?! It’s the same shit you always wear!” Robin exclaimed at you and you winced at her tone, putting the white shirt back on the rack. In all honesty, you didn't feel confident to get hold of the things that caught your attention. You had liked a black one piece that looked like a corset with spaghetti straps. You also saw a nice tight purple dress with puffy sleeves that fell from your shoulders. 

“No need to be so dramatic about it Robin…” Your friend simply rolled her eyes and looked over the rack of clothes. She heard your phone’s ringtone and immediately saw how you were getting it out of your coat. Her eyes almost widened when you didn’t even flinch, seeing the caller ID, and even knowing it was a video call.

Your stomach was in knots when answering but you got better with video calling with Eddie after the first two times he called. The first time, you didn’t put on your camera, but he didn’t mind. He showed you his apartment and then his makeup collection, explaining to you some basic stuff to get started with it. You took down notes of the names of each thing, concealer, foundation, contour, liners, mascara, blush, lipstick, lip gloss, setting spray, and powder. That was the basic thing. 

The second call you only showed your eyes and forehead. He laughed at you of course, which only made you want to hang up on the call but he stopped you and told you that it was an improvement. In that call though, you almost felt the earth swallowing as Steve and Billy made an appearance, both shirtless, waving at you. You immediately muted yourself and took off the camera as your whole body grew a cold sweat.

That meant that Eddie had talked about you to them.

Your hand was shaking as it positioned itself on top of the answering button, ready to slide it, but Robin snatched your phone away, your eyes widening like plates as she swiped the phone to answer, and you didn’t even have the chance to take the device back.

“Well that was qui– Hey, who are you?” Robin put the phone to her face, seeing Eddie on the screen, and she almost barked out a laugh when she remembered the show she witnessed of him two weeks ago. She held in her laughter, taking a deep breath in to begin talking.

“Hi, I’m Robin–”

“Ah, you’re Robin, hi there!” Eddie smiled into the camera and Robin blinked slightly at how charismatic this man was, not at all what she thought a stripper would be like, and she realized that you talked to him about her. 

“Robin, what the shit!” You yelled on her side and she put the phone to show your face and you instantly turned red at seeing Eddie, face to face, even on camera, but you kept your gaze on the device, even if the butterflies in your belly swarmed all around.

“Well, hello there Bunny. I see you’re at the mall.” He said with a smile and you nodded about to start talking, but Robin put the phone to her face after shooting a glare towards your way.

“Eddie, I’ve been here for a fucking hour, I want you to see the shit she’s been picking.” You stared at her in complete offense after yelling a ‘Hey!’ but she completely ignored you, grabbing onto the white bland shirt you picked earlier and showing it to Eddie with the phone. “This, but in black, in brown, in beige, in gray… And not one single dress or skirt!” 

“That really won’t do… We’ll pick for her, Robin, show me the rack.” He winked at the camera and Robin only rolled her eyes at him. He knew he could throw those kinds of jokes with her and not with you, because that would only spur you into nervousness. 

“You guys know I’m still here, right?” You said, crossing your arms over your chest and Robin pointed the camera at you so she could keep eye scanning the various shirts that were hanging there. Eddie frowned into the camera and shook his head.

“You cannot possibly tell me you feel sexy in a bland white t-shirt.” You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at the floor like a kid that just got called out and Eddie had to contain the smile that was coming into his face.

“What do you know…” You mumbled, and even in the ambience of the mall, it was audible enough for your microphone to pick it up. Eddie chuckled and rubbed his cheek.

“A lot. Robin, got anything?” At the call of her name, Robin pointed the camera to her face and shook her head.

“The store we’re in is practically for ladies over 50. She never once entered stores that have clothing of our generation.” She shot a glare at you and you stuck her tongue out at her which she scoffed at. “Don’t stick your tongue out at me!”

“Okay, hand me over.” Robin gave you the phone and you sighed, putting your face in the screen, scowling at Eddie. You should feel offended, but you knew deep inside you that they were right, and you were just going for comfort instead of something you actually would like. 

“What?” You snapped at him, making his eyes widen, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

“No need to get snappy with me. Darling, did you really not see anything you liked?” He squinted into the camera and you adjusted yourself, glancing at the floor for a second but he noticed. He noticed the body language, and he knew that you had indeed seen something you liked and didn’t even dare to try it on, or even go into the store.

“I… Um…” Eddie sighed and that made you look up into the screen again. He looked fresh out of the shower, his hair up in a wet bun with some strands falling to the sides of his face. The black shirt covering him, and you could see the tattoos that were on his neck coming out.

“Okay, I want you to take us where you’ve seen that something you liked. I want you to at least try it on, whatever it is. I don’t care if it’s a care bears shirt, I just want you to go pick something you like.” He was patient with you, and Robin took notice of that. She was amazed by how carefree he was, and how careful he was being with his words so that you wouldn’t get scared easily. He wasn’t pressuring you, and he wasn’t commanding you really. 

“Okay…” You mumbled in a low tone and Robin’s eyes widened. He hit the spot and she didn’t even notice if you glanced at something you liked or not. You walked out of the store, Robin following right behind and Eddie called Robin out to get the phone. She grabbed it and looked into the camera.

“Is it true you fought a raccoon and grabbed its tail and simply hammer threw it the fuck out of the garden?” He said with a chuckle and Robin immediately started laughing, almost snorting as she remembered that night.

Her, Nancy and you were chilling at Nancy’s pool, drinking a few cocktails made at home, when out of nowhere a raccoon appeared and for some reason wanted Nancy’s ankle bracelet. Poor Nancy ran all over her garden until a very drunk Robin threw herself on the raccoon, grabbed it by the tail, spun around and flung it over to the neighbor’s garden.

It seems you told Eddie that story.

“Fuck yeah I did, it might have had rabies, and it’s one of my number one phobias! I couldn’t risk it!” Eddie started cracking up as you entered the colorful store, making Robin look around. She noticed you weren’t talking, probably trying to swallow your nerves with each step you took, and that was very much what was happening.

Every step felt like electricity under your feet as you headed straight to the rack of dresses. Robin was not talking as well as Eddie, waiting for you to grab something. You took a deep breath in, maybe two. Your hand slowly reached out and grabbed hold of the lilac dress you saw before on the mannequin. Robin’s eyes widened and looked down at Eddie and gave him a small nod but didn’t show him what you picked. 

Eddie was biting his thumb, the curiosity killing him but he was sure you were debating whether to try it on or not. After a minute he saw Robin’s eyes widen as she moved a bit, the lights of the store over her head. He straightened up on the chair and then Robin whispered down to him.

“She went into the changing room, Eddie. I’ve never seen her in a dress before. What if I fall in love with my best friend? I can’t handle this.” It was a joke of course, she could never fall in love with you, not when she had her eyes on Vickie for the past two years, but it would be the first time she would see you in a dress. Last time it was a prom dress and it wasn’t even tight or anything, it was long sleeved, with a nice fall but nowhere tight to your body shape.

“Okay, just, keep calm, and do not show distaste if you don’t like it. She liked it, that’s the important thing.” Robin nodded at his words as she waited patiently for you. 

“This might take a while though…” She knew that you might be looking at yourself for a long while inside, so she looked down at Eddie to start striking some conversation, maybe a private one that you should not hear. “Why are you helping her so much?”

“Well… Honestly, I don’t know… I guess at first I was intrigued, wondering if there was such a thing as being shy towards men, but she is actually pretty cool. She likes The Lord of The Rings, so that’s a plus.” He said with a smile and Robin could only laugh at that, shaking her head. Of course the stripper was a total nerd like yourself. 

“Yeah… You know… This only happens with attractive men only.”

“Are you, a lesbian, hitting on me?”

“Shut the fuck up.” She shook her head at him as he threw his head back with laughter but then she cleared her throat. “I don’t know if she told you, but… She had dates before, but they weren’t with men she was attracted to.” Eddie’s eyes widened slightly at that and Robin shook her head. “It’s more like, attractive guys in general. Not like a personal attraction to a guy.” 

Eddie hummed at that, completely in thought. So it wasn’t that you were personally attracted to him. This happened to you with every man that you found hot basically, and Eddie knew that he was a handsome man. As well as Billy and Steve are. There’s no need to be humble about that, because if he weren’t, he wouldn’t have gotten the job he has now.

“She’s getting better though.” He clarifies and Robin smiles at him, and nods.

“Yeah, she is, slowly but–” She cut herself off as she looked over the phone and her mouth hung open. 

You had walked out of the changing room, after five minutes of staring at yourself in the mirror, your eyes full of tears as you looked at yourself. Tears that weren’t of sadness, of disappointment, of disgust… You liked yourself in the mirror. For the first time in your life, you had tried on a casual dress, and you didn’t dislike what you saw.

The lilac dress hugged your body with a few sinches at the front, the semi-princess sleeves falling over your shoulders, hugging your biceps, and the dress stopped right in the middle of your thighs. The top of your breasts popped out slightly from the bunched fabric of the top, the small golden chain hanging from your neck and then your white sneakers completed the outfit just right.

“Holy fucking shit…” Robin only exclaimed and you just stood there, breathing heavy as you waited for her response. She just tapped on the screen, two times, to turn the camera around so the back camera would face you. 

Eddie’s air got knocked out of his lungs.

He was still looking at you, eyes staring at the screen as if he was seeing a long lost puzzle solved in front of his eyes and he didn’t want to miss one single second of it. His words were in his throat, wanting to say so much but for some reason his mouth was not cooperating, frozen, slightly opened in a surprised motion. His eyes roamed your body, top to bottom, and jesus fuck, you weren’t doing justice to yourself, hiding behind all those baggy clothes and bland colors. The purple color matched perfectly against your skin tone.

“I shouldn’t buy it, right? You both aren’t saying anything at all…” You voiced out your thoughts, which in the past you would have kept inside your inner monologue and do whatever you thought was best for you. For your mental stability that is. Robin immediately got up from the chair she was waiting on and pointed at you.

“Y-You… We’re getting every single color of that dress.” Robin says, stuttering at how different you look from your normal self. It was way more than just looking good, there’s like a light that it’s not quite bright around you yet, but it’s dim, wanting to become stronger each second you stand there in your new clothes.

“R-Really?” You bit your lip nervously and Robin looked down on the screen and saw that Eddie was still stunned on his chair, looking at his screen. She smirked and looked up at you again.

“Look, you left a stripper speechless, I think that usually goes the other way around.” At that, Eddie snapped out, a blush creeping on his cheeks when he realized he was caught staring without hiding it at all, without being discreet. He cleared his throat and motioned for Robin to turn him so that you could see him.

Robin flipped the camera so the front one would start filming now, before handing the phone to you. Your stomach was in nervous knots, anxious to know what a man like him would think. Expectant to see if this wasn’t too much for you, wanting to know if this actually suited a woman like you at all and they weren’t just saying it because they are your friends.

Is that what Eddie was? A friend? You would really like to think so. You were hoping he would feel the same way about that, because that would mean he would be your first ever male friend. Real friend. You looked at Eddie on the screen, and his eyes were lit up, a big smile on his face and your chest thumped at that sight.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, Sweetheart… How do you feel in it?” He asks and you clear your throat to hide your nervousness, looking down at the floor.

“I uh… I feel comfortable in it… I-I like it.” Robin was almost jumping in excitement at your words and Eddie wanted to fist pump the air at the news.

“Good, good… You’re going to buy it then?” He asks, and that’s the next step of it all. Not letting self doubt eat you up at the last second. Be confident in the decision you chose from the very beginning, not letting the eye of strangers change it, nor their thoughts. What matters is the reflection you saw when you put on the dress, all alone, inside the dressing room.

You gave a nod and handed the phone back to Robin to hide back into the changing room. Robin waited till you couldn’t see her anymore and squealed into the camera in excitement, Eddie chuckling at the reaction but feeling victorious as well. This was like watching a bird hatch. Slowly, but surely, the beak breaks the shell, piece by piece, and that’s what it felt when they both watched you.

“I cannot believe you actually managed this…” Robin says with surprise in her tone and Eddie simply shook his head. 

“I didn’t really do anything, she was the one that approached me for help. I am just guiding her through it.” He explains to Robin and she gives him a soft nod, and then Eddie’s smile slowly fell, nerves wrecking his body. “Hey um… I might need your help for the next thing…”

After a few minutes, you came out of the changing room, and slowly walked towards the cashier, trying to let your hands hand the dress towards the nice lady, and then giving her your card. You were feeling a rush of adrenaline coming up on you, as if you were using the money you made for something other than necessities. You were treating yourself.

“Have a good day!” The lady said, giving you the bag, and you blushed, with a nod, walking out with Robin who was still chatting up with Eddie.

“Eddie says Make-Up is next.” You were getting kinda angry that they were talkative with one another, but happy at the same time that they enjoyed the conversation they were having. You started heading towards Sephora, and then you heard Eddie’s voice calling out to you, Robin handing you the phone.

He was smiling at you, and you felt those nerves in your tummy but not as strongly as before. Your eyes traveled to his tattooed neck until he called you out again.

“Stop ogling and listen to me.” He says with a chuckle, making you blush a deep red, wanting to drive your face away from the screen but before you could do so, he kept talking. “I want to invite you to my apartment tomorrow night. We can have a few drinks and have some dinner, and you can meet Steve and Billy, properly this time.” He finished with a nervous smile.

Eddie was actually nervous for this step, but it was needed. The only male you had interacted with until now, was him. He wanted to see how you would interact with other guys, hence, Steve and Billy, both knowing about your situation. They agreed to help you, and Eddie was grateful for that. 

Your stomach dropped to the floor at that. The other two. The other two strippers. Eddie’s friends. But it was just that right? He wanted to introduce you to his friends, like Robin was introduced today, but that meant you would be alone with three hot guys in a room, and that is something that was making you tremble with nerves already, Eddie noticing the slight shake on the camera.

“Shit, important detail. I invited Robin too. You won’t be here alone with just the three of us… Just thought it would be cool since we got the day off tomorrow, and they want to meet you actually.” He tries to make your shoulders untense, and try to calm you down, and it seems it works, because you frowned and looked at Robin who was next to you looking at Eddie.

“Yep, I’m for it, I mean, I have so many questions about their profession.” She encourages with a smile and you look at the screen again, gulping the nerves down to your belly. You felt yourself sweat at the outcome of all of this, but either way, you nodded at Eddie. He smiled widely, showing his bright teeth, and fist pumping the air.

“Fuck yeah, I make very mean nachos. I’ll make them tomorrow! You’ll love them!” He says with a chuckle and you giggle out, finally a sigh of relief leaving your lips.

“I like spicy.” Eddie held in the smirk at your words, closing his eyes to not make a dirty joke out of it. 

Too early for that.

“Robin, I should go change, this is not okay, I didn’t have time to practice my contour, it must look horrible, you just don’t want to say it, but it’s okay! I can take it! Just please, turn so I can fix it–”

“SHUT UP! I’M DRIVING FOR FUCK SAKE!” Robin Buckley lost her patience with you, once again. You flinched at the loud words, making you sink in the passenger’s seat. You were wearing the dress you bought, plus a denim jacket you got in another store and your white reeboks at your feet. 

“I don’t know why you got to wear jeans and I have to wear a dress. I look… like I am trying too hard…” You sighed out, the six pack of beer in your lap, clinking every now and then at the movement of the car. Robin wanted to kill you, to put it simply, but she loved you too much to do so. 

“I dress like a lesbian dyke. I don’t really have dresses, or skirts, you know that!” You giggled at that and you had to admit she had a point there. “You look good, casual, and so pretty. I helped you with your makeup and we did a fantastic job.” You nodded at that and tried to calm your own nerves as Robin turned the street and finally parked. Your breathing rate increased as you looked up at the building, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“Robin, I–”

“I’ll be there with you, the moment you feel like throwing up or leaving, we’re out of there. But they seem really nice, and FRIENDLY.” She emphasized the word and you sighed, that actually worked to untense your situation. 

“Okay… okay… I can do this, I can make male friends.” You say, opening the passenger’s door open and Robin chuckling in her seat as she opened her door.

“That’s my girl.” She says excitedly, locking the car behind her as you both head towards the doorbells panel. You notice that there aren’t many buttons, despite the building being quite large. Robin takes the initiative and you grip onto the six pack even tighter, wanting to run away from here, but you wouldn’t.

You weren’t running again. Robin was going to be there, Eddie you’ve already seen, it’s fine, everything will be fine.

Robin rang the doorbell and without even replying, the door opened. Robin smiled at you, opening the door for you to get by and you looked all around the lobby as you both walked to the elevator. 

Each floor the elevator passed, the more you felt coldness at your feet, and you felt as if your makeup was completely melting on your face, but the reflection on the elevator’s walls told you differently. Everything seemed okay, which calmed your nerves a bit, and you took a deep breath in before jumping at the ding sound of finally arriving at the designated floor. 

Robin helped you out of the metal cell and you moved with heavy steps towards apartment B. You noticed that there were only two apartments per floor, so this meant that the floor was big. Robin bit her cheek and looked at you. She wasn’t going to admit to you that she was nervous too, that would completely wreck you, but she was. She was meeting new people, which she had no trouble with, but she was still keeping her guard up just in case.

“You ready?”

“No, but what can I do about that?” You reply, getting a chuckle out of Robin.

“Good.” And like that, she rang the doorbell. Your eyesight was immediately dropped to the floor, six pack in one hand, grabbing it by the handle, biting the inside of your cheek to just bite into something, other than your fingers. You heard some talking behind the door, making your belly almost ache at how nervous you were feeling at the moment, but anxious to get this night over with. 

You heard some heavy steps, and your body was trying to ignite the Flight mode, wanting to dash out of there as soon as possible, but you kept your eyes at your reeboks. It’s Eddie, it’s going to be okay.

The door finally opened and in your vision came some old reeboks, not the same model as yours, and that made your nerves go away a bit, noticing the similarity of clothes. You slowly looked up, noticing the black ripped jeans first, the black belt, then the tight black simple t-shirt on, and your sight stopped at his arms. Covered in tattoos, and there, sure enough was the bat tattoo he mentioned. 

“Welcome to my coven ladies.” That made your eyes shoot up, completely widened with a blush and Eddie was smiling at you, biting at his tongue. “Come in, come in, don’t want those beers to get cold!” He cheerfully moves aside and Robin grabs the six pack out of your hands and walks past Eddie and into his house.

You just stood there, hands behind your back as the biting in the inside of your cheek worsened. What if Steve and Billy do not like you? What if they aren’t as patient as Eddie is? Should you return when it’s just Eddie alone here? Maybe you can video call them, meeting them like that, less personal–

“Sweetheart.”

You were cut off from your thoughts, your eyes locking with Eddie’s again as he smiled down at you. He put his hand out tentatively and this would be the second time you would ever touch him. Graze skin on skin with his, with a man, with an attractive man. You stared at it for a few seconds, heart on your throat and a shaky hand slowly rising up to meet his. His grin widened and he made you do a twirl, causing you to yelp slightly.

“Look at you! That looks great on you, princess.” He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to say you looked beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, incredibly sexy, but he didn’t want you to think he was flirting with you, which in a deep part of him, he would be more than delighted to do so, but he was fine in just being your friend.

“T-Thank you.” You squeaked out and you wanted to tell him he looked good too, but that would already be flirting, right? But you do tell Robin she looks good, and she’s just your friend, and she never receives the compliments as flirting. Same with Nancy and the other girls.

But with Eddie, it was still a big challenge for you to do so. Much more when it was about his looks.

“Alright, let’s go inside! I want to show you around!” He said with a smile, moving aside for you to enter. You slowly walked inside, feeling each step heavy on the floor and your eyes widened at how spacious the whole place was. The ambience reminded you of a New York artist loft. You saw the large couch in the middle with the TV at the front and a coffee table in between, a library filled with different books, a guitar in a corner, some weights in another, large windows, and a snail staircase in one side of the room.

Now you realize why there weren’t so many buttons in the building. The apartments consisted of two floors. You were amazed by it, but you guessed that three people paying for one single place has its perks and you can always aim for something bigger. The kitchen can be seen from where you’re standing, a large island counter separating it from the living room. Robin was there, putting the beers inside the fridge and taking out three cold ones.

“Mi casa es su casa.” Eddie says, closing the door behind him, Robin speaking after him.

“Where’s the stripper pole?” You choked at that, sending a glare towards Robin who just shrugged at you, but Eddie laughed at Robin’s question, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if you remember, but there were no poles at the club we work at.” He says as if it were a matter of fact and Robin just nodded, heading towards the both of you with the beers in her hands. Eddie quickly grabbed one, snapping open the can and then you grabbed the second one. Maybe this will help with your nerves, hopefully.

Eddie immediately guided you both towards the library and you were fascinated by the amount of literature that was there, mostly fantasy and horror, which were your favorite types of books, apart from the normal romantic shenanigans.

“So, this is basically all yours?” You added and Eddie smirked, nodding.

“Yeah, the other two can’t grab a book even if their lives depended on it.”

“We heard that Munson!” You heard some metal stomping from the stairs, someone coming down, and the hairs behind your neck stood on end at the male voice that sounded in your ears.

Not only that, but following on those steps, there were more, which meant both of the other men were coming down the stairs to greet you. You froze in place, sound around you becoming non-existent and you could swear you heard Robin talking, probably introducing herself. A soft touch grazed your shoulder, making you look up in a jump, and Eddie was shooting you a warm smile. 

You were here with Eddie, and Robin. You were here with friends. They were friends.

Eddie was nervous, of course, but you didn’t look pale, which was a good enough sign for him to turn towards Steve and Billy and introduce you to them. You bit your lip and slowly turned your head, feeling the rock in your tongue trying to weigh it down until you finally locked with the first set of eyes. Brown ones.

“Eye locking. Nice! I am Steve.” He said with a smile, putting his hand out for a handshake. He was instructed by Eddie to provoke physical contact. You were like a cat, he explained. You needed to feel comfortable enough to let yourself break loose and the handshake was kind of the sniffing animals did to detect any threats.

You felt your cheeks burn at the praise, licking your lips as your breathing started picking up a pace again, but still you raised your shaking hand up, Eddie’s eyes looking at you, making sure you were okay, and then you held onto Steve’s hand, moving it slightly as a greeting. Steve seemed pleased with that, smiling at you with a nod, and letting go of your hand after a second.

Robin exhaled the air out of her lungs, giving Eddie a thumbs up, hiding it from you and he gave Robin a small nod. Now, it was Billy’s turn. And your eyes widened when he locked his gaze on you. His eyes are just so bright that you cannot handle it, feeling completely watched by him, as if scanned, and you turned your gaze away.

“Calm Sweets, it’s alright. I’m Billy.” You took a deep breath in, gulping down and closing your eyes as you remembered that night. This man looked slightly intimidating, a sexy aura simply spilling from his pores, but when he encouraged that old lady to touch him, you were sure he was trying to make her feel young again, let her feel adventurous, with a kind smile on his face.

So you gazed up again, Eddie’s eyes widening at your action and giving Billy a nod to stick his hand out. You looked at his hand and licked your lips as you raised your trembling hand towards him. His hands were rough, and he was probably the one that used the weights the most. He smiled when you looked up to him again, no salacious look, or a hint of smugness, just a kind welcoming smile.

And you knew you were safe.

He let go of your hand and Eddie finally let the breath out of his lungs that he was holding in. He was afraid he would have to take you to the ER or something, probably fainting here and hitting your head on something, but you proved him wrong. And he was really proud of you, looking at you with a smile to his face as well as Robin coming to your side to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, I already ordered pizza, so I assumed everyone likes Pepperoni.” Steve says as you all moved to the island counter to sit at the stools, you were in between Robin and Eddie, taking a gulp out of your beer.

“What if I’m allergic Dingus?” Robin says to him as he sat next to her and he shot her a quizzical look.

“Did you just call me dingus?” He asked and you couldn’t help the snort that came out of your throat as Billy chuckled, getting two beers out of the fridge. 

“Well yeah, you don’t know us, what if we wanted, I don’t know… Anchovy pizza?” She asked and all three boys grimaced at that.

“Who the fuck would like that?” Billy asked and you gulped in embarrassment, Robin shooting you a look. You have to be brave, confident in the things you like, in the things you are passionate about, just like Eddie said. Don’t let anyone diminish the things you most enjoy in life.

“I– I do…” Eddie’s eyes widened, looking down at you, shaking his head.

“You can’t possibly be serious Princess…” Eddie says and you frown at that, looking at him with an offended look on your face, but very protective of your tastes.

“Maybe you tried the wrong kind of Anchovy pizza!” You defend and Eddie lets out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Who would even try that in the first place?!” He retorts and you point at him with your finger, squinting at him.

“So you didn’t try it… Your argument is invalid.” You finish and take a sip out of your can, Robin slowly clapping at you for shutting him up and you bow with your head at her. Eddie’s eyes were boring into your skull and Billy shrugged at him.

“She is right though, Harrington, call the place and order another one, with Anchovies, we gotta try that shit now.” Steve simply rolled his eyes at his friend and Eddie was shaking his head.

“Nope, nope! I am not trying that.” He takes a sip out of his beer as Steve sends a message to the pizza place to order that one other pizza. Robin’s phone buzzes, and she looks down on it, you peeking over your shoulder to see she received a notification from her dating app.

“Is that Carol?” You ask and Robin shook her head, opening the app to reply to a girl she just made a match with. Steve also took a peek on the other side and he almost spat his beer when he saw the profile picture. Everyone looked at him with a shocked expression and he wiped his mouth, pointing at the phone.

“That’s not a girl.” Steve claims and your eyes widened, same as Robin’s as you both looked at Steve. Robin scoffed and put up the profile of the person she made a match with.

“It is a girl, I only have my app set to get girls.” She says and Steve shook his head, pointing at something in the picture. 

“It’s literally a filter. You can see the smudge of them trying to wipe off the beard.” Robin was blinking at him as if he were insane and you were chugging down your beer out of pure nerves. You didn’t like the sound of that, anxiety filling up in your chest as you heard those words coming out of Steve’s mouth.

“So, he is a creep?” Robin asks and at that Steve nods, taking a sip out of his beer and makes a shoving motion to her phone.

“Delete that app, they suck.” He says and Robin simply huffs at him, putting her phone down to look at him.

“And how do you expect me to find available hot babes?” At that, Steve rolled his eyes as the rest of you watched the interaction closely. The two of them were talking as if they were long distant friends, immediately engaging in a very intense debate into whether the dating apps work better than engaging conversation in a bar or club, randomly. 

“Totally engaging conversation in a bar.” Eddie states as Steve points him out as a thank you. 

“Not everyone is as charismatic as you guys are, just mind you! Behind a screen is much safer, at least for me.” Robin states and you just sipped on your beer, not really involving yourself in the conversation because you had done neither. You never interacted in a bar with another man, and you never downloaded any dating app on your phone. 

You weren’t going to ever make the first move, and men hardly approached you at public places because your friends snatched you away before they could engage in conversation with you. Not that if you stayed you would have talked to him. You most likely would have just frozen in place.

During this whole ordeal you didn’t notice the pair of blue eyes that were watching you as you quietly drank down your can of beer, already finishing it. Your name was called, and you raised your head up, noticing Billy was calling out to you.

“What’s your opinion on all this?” He asked you and your throat closed up, feet becoming cold as his eyes scanned your reaction. The nerves in your belly became alive once more, feeling their eyes almost burning into your body as they waited for your answer.

“I– I never really… Um…” You gulped trying to find your words and Eddie was glaring at Billy for making you nervous but his friend glared back, shaking his head at him as if telling Eddie to not intervene.

“Sweetheart… Eddie has helped a lot, I know that, but… What is going to happen if a guy you’re talking to suddenly flirts with you? Someone you might be attracted to?” Billy asks you and you look down at your cup, blinking at it. Eddie has taught you the easy part. The friendly part. But in the end, your ultimate goal was to be able to be with someone you were attracted to. Someone that you actually liked not only spiritually but physically too.

And how were you going to do that when you didn’t know how to flirt? Much less, how to react when being flirted at?

“Munson, scooch.” You heard Billy say and Eddie gave you a look, which you didn’t reciprocate because you were still looking down at your can. Eddie knew that this part was going to come sooner or later, but he didn’t intend for Billy to take the initiative. Not today at least. It was supposed to be a way of getting to know the other two and loosen you up with other men other than himself.

Eddie stood up from his stool and exchanged places with Billy. You closed your eyes as you felt the blood in your body slowly leaving you but you were brought back to your senses when Robin pressed a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, I’m here…” She reassures you and you look up to her, gulping heavily as the anxious feeling in your belly moves around, but you fight through it, turning your head to look at Billy who smiled sweetly at you, and that friendly smile made your shoulders relax just a bit.

“Alright… We’re friends now, okay? This is only to help you. Even if what I say is true, there is no hidden intention behind it, but what I want you to know is that, when a person flirts with you, it’s not only you who has to have confidence, it’s the other person as well, so basically you are both on the same boat.” Billy explains to you, and you slowly nod in understanding and then Robin intervenes.

“Yeah, it’s not like I am a flirting machine, you know how nervous I get about that.” You turned to look at her, and yes, you do remember how she explained to you how nervous she got when a girl approached her at a club one time, and she wouldn’t stop ramblings about whales for some reason. 

So everyone gets nervous about it, not only you, you are not the only one who gets shy about it, or bashful, and that soothes the knots in your belly just a bit more. 

“So, what I wanna try with you, is give you a compliment, and for you to give another one back.” Billy continues and your head snaps at him with widened eyes. This was a big step, a huge one, and your heart is already beating in anticipation as to what he might say. You glanced at Eddie once, and he gave you a reassuring nod, and it was as if you just received a message from him that played in your head.

‘It’s alright.’

Robin’s hand was pressed on your shoulder still, as you looked at Billy and how his demeanor slightly changed. His eyes suddenly gazed at you with another type of spark in them, as his smile turned into a small one, a little bit higher on one side, and his body moved towards you, just slightly as he leaned against the counter.

His eyes were looking into yours, and your mind was yelling at you, screaming, grasping at every cell to make you run away, that this was stupid, that this was impossible for you, that there was no way this would happen in other circumstances.

“You look beautiful tonight, sweetheart.” 

Your breath got caught in your throat, feeling it closing in, and how can you believe such thing? How is that man telling you something like that? You’re nothing special really, you’re pretty bland. Pretty normal.

And that’s when you felt yourself snap.

You put on the dress you felt nice in, you put on makeup for the first time in which Robin helped and you liked the outcome of it. You looked down at your lap, your knuckles white in tight fists as you tried to even out your breath, thinking of a response to him, maybe about his attire as well? About his perfume? What?

“Say anything that comes to mind darling. Anything at all.” You heard Eddie’s voice ringing from afar, and you took a deep breath in, settling on one thought only as you looked up to meet Billy’s gaze again, who was now smiling encouragingly at you, leaving behind the smug grin.

“Y-Your eyes are pretty.” Billy’s eyes widened at that, as well as everyone else’s in the room and you felt your whole face heating up as a wave of embarrassment filled your body. You said too much, it was too forward, you came too strong, what if he took it the wrong way, what if they think you are weird? What if–

“Oh, you made Billy blush!” You heard Steve exclaim excitedly and you paid attention to Billy again who was hiding his face under his hand, which he had across, palm on one cheek, fingers on the other, but you could see the pink reaching his eyes as he looked away. Eddie finally laughed out loud, patting Billy in the back.

“She’s a fast learner isn’t she?” Eddie said proudly and you were still stunned, staring at Billy. You made someone like him blush, feel bashful for your flirting, and you never knew you could do that. You always thought that was your position, that the one that should always remain shy and embarrassed was supposed to be you.

Everyone was laughing at Billy while he tried to stop all of them from doing so, that he is trying to help only and it was backfiring him, so you turn to Robin with a smile on your face.

“You have a pretty laugh!” At that Robin shut up, stunned, looking at you.

“I– what–” She was turning red, you could see it on her ears as Steve chuckled behind her, already pointing at them to make fun of her, but you looked at him this time, your bravery becoming bigger and bigger.

“Your hair is great, Stevie.” You added a pet name this time, which made him jump and you could see the thin line on his lips as he looked away while rubbing the back of his head, and then you turned to your final person.

Eddie was wide eyed, looking at you, feeling his chest pressing on him as your eyes scanned him. You on the other hand, you almost lost your power, and you felt a tingling sensation in your fingers, a warmth spreading from your throat towards your face, but there is one compliment, one thought, that you always wanted him to know.

“You’re beautiful, Eddie.”

He just kept looking at you, as the other three people in the room fussed about how you managed to be suddenly bold enough to compliment them out of nowhere, but your eyes stayed focused on Eddie. There wasn’t embarrassment for some reason, and you felt yourself smile when he flexed his jaw, turning towards the fridge to hide the intense blush he felt coming to his face.

He has women all over him, almost every night, touching him, saying things to his ears, scenting him, worshiping him, yet… Yet your small innocent compliment was enough to stir him up in a way he hasn’t felt like in so long. A hurricane whirling in his stomach as he grabbed a beer and put it on the counter. You were laughing now, seeing how Robin was making fun of Steve, while Billy chuckled at how flustered Robin was looking.

Eddie licked his lips, rounding the counter, stepping behind Billy and then finally standing behind you. You weren’t paying attention to his movements but Billy caught on him as Eddie slowly reached down, getting close to your ear, his voice lowering in a whisper. Your stiffened in your seat as you remembered this same position being the one in that night at the strip club. The hot breath on your skin, and the scent of his cologne invading you completely.

“Thank you, angel.” 

Robin stopped bickering with Steve to look at your face, widening when she saw you had turned slightly pale. She looked at Eddie as he backed off, ready to scold him but then you softly whispered, low, but you still talked, surprising everyone in the room.

“My pleasure…” 

Robin immediately hugged you tightly, snapping you out of your embarrassed trance, wondering what was going on as she rubbed her cheek at the top of your head.

“You didn’t faint! You didn’t freeze! This is a miracle!” You heard Eddie laughing as he returned to his previous position and you looked at him as he raised his beer to you as in a cheer motion. You gulped tightly as your eyes were still locked into his, while Robin was excitedly hugging you.

It was a miracle alright.

The doorbell rang after a few minutes and the next second, you were all digging into the pizzas as the munchies from the alcohol started kicking in. You looked at everyone, grabbing a slice of the anchovy pizza except for Robin.

“I already tried it and it wasn't to my taste.” She says, grimacing at the memory of it. The first one to take a bite was Steve, who immediately spat it out into a napkin.

“What the fuck… Yeah, no, that’s not edible.” You had a slice already so you knew the pizza was delicious, not a quality failure. You pouted and looked at Billy who was still chewing his piece and slowly put it down on his place, swallowing after a few seconds.

“This is definitely something else, darling.” He says, clearly showing his dislike. You looked at Eddie who was just staring disgustedly at the anchovy’s eye on top of his pizza.

“Do I really have to?” He asked and for some reason, you really wanted Eddie to like the pizza, your taste in pizza, but your hopes crashed down when the other two didn’t, so you were pretty sure he was going to dislike it.

“You don’t have to…” You mumbled to him, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more because of your particular taste and Eddie noticed that. He noticed the change in your tone and  he immediately took a big bite out of his pizza, closing his eyes as he waited for the taste to hit his tongue.

The four of you looked at him as he chewed with his eyes closed, and then his shoulders untensed, relaxing completely, his eyes opening in a confused look as he looked down at his slice, still chewing as if he were in shock.

“Well?” Robin asks him and Eddie’s stomach grumbles as the new flavor fills his mouth.

“This is fucking excelent. Why the fuck did I never try this shit before?” He says as he takes another bite, and you look at him to search for any hint of him taking pity on you, and just saying that so you wouldn’t feel embarrassed, but he then took two more bites and the slice was gone. He immediately reached for another one and looked at you. “If you don’t take another slice, I’m gonna eat all of this by myself.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, you immediately reached out and grabbed another slice, smiling as you looked at Eddie while you took a bite, and he returned the smile in the same way. 

The rest of the group was simply horrified.

You looked at the pizza, and then back at Eddie.

“Where are the Nachos you promised me?” And he stopped chewing, facepalming his forehead.

“I forgot…” You shook your head at that, and giggled at his pink cheeks.

“It’s okay, you can make them next time.” You say out loud, and Robin was completely surprised that you were the one that initiated the invitation to another gathering this time, but she kept her mouth closed as she grabbed onto a pepperoni pizza slice. Eddie almost froze at the words, but smiled at you, taking a bite of his slice.

“My pleasure.”

End of Part 3

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a/n: Next chapter is when everything simply moves on. Trust me, this will turn spicy... Spicy.

Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @sillypurplemurple @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @justheretostalk @eveybitch @blablaclub @vintagehellfire @trixyvixx @steeldaisies @bitchyseawitch @seventhlevelofhell @leelei1980 @kbakery @corroded-hellfire @poofyloofy @nightonblogmountain @gothvamp1973 @hideoutside @mrsjellymunson @maysrain @honey-eyed-munson @sarcastically-defensive17 @narutofan249277 @ms1oftheboys @siriuslysmoking @hereforshmut @mynameismothra @venuslayla23-blog

[followmybadreligion]

"Je te laisserai des mot"

a valentine’s day date with your sweet, sweet boyfriend.

“Hyunjin, come here.” You called as you dusted your hands free of the white, cakey flour that’d made a thin coat over them. Your voice bounced off the tall walls of your apartment and played back in your head like a loud, jarring record that disturbed the once quiet, peaceful atmosphere, and you immediately regret not just going to get him. 

In front of you sat a large bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough, which you’d spent the better half of the morning preparing– from scratch. On the side of that lay two pink, heart-shaped baking trays, one for you and one for him. You’d already coated them in butter (The only non-stick agent you had) and sprinkled a thin layer of brown sugar across them, and now all that was left for you to do was preheat the oven.

“Three seventy-five,” you whispered to yourself, spinning away from your work to assess the settings on your oven. It was brand new, much like the rest of the place, but the controls were easy enough to work with the typical dials traded for a sleek screen. You tapped it once and waited for it to illuminate before pressing the “Bake” option promoted on its right side and setting it properly. 

A small smile spread across your lips as you looked at the cute, white fixture nestled among brown cabinets with tops of beige wood. Its once-dark interior lit up with an orange hue, courtesy of the heating panel built into the bottom, and you could just barely feel the heat begin to radiate from it. Just a few minutes before you’d be able to get your treats in there and baking— that was if Hyun were to hurry. 

You moved over a few feet to an empty counter space, lifting yourself onto it and crossing your legs over one another as you waited. The wood was warm underneath your exposed thighs, pressing into you firmly enough to leave marks for sure. You giggled as you thought of his reaction to seeing you like this. More than likely, he’d be a little surprised at the sight— you, in his Dear Daniel tee, your panties and socks, and virtually nothing else, lightly dusted with flour and sugar— it’d be a trip for sure. But knowing him, he’d love it. He always loved seeing you in his clothes, and he loved seeing you work on your hobbies even more. 

From your spot on the counter, you had the perfect view from one of the living room windows to the incoming sunrise. The sky swirled with beautiful shades of orange and pink, contrasted with the masses of gray and yellow underneath it. Skyscrapers, hoards of cars, lively apartment units— all of it did little to dull the beauty of the new day, and you took a few minutes to bask in it. 

You could faintly make out the sound of beeping, rushing cars, even from how high up your flat was, but somehow that only added to the ambiance— warmth enveloping you at all sides, a show of such pretty colors, and the sound of what felt the most like home— Seoul. 

But oh, this moment would be so much better with your boy. 

You sighed deeply, realizing it’d been a good few minutes since you’d called his name and he still hadn’t answered. You turned towards the oven again, catching sight of the pink, square-shaped clock resting above it on the spice rack. It read 6:34, which was no surprise to you with the sunrise and all. What was a surprise, however, was that Hyunjin still wasn’t up. Normally, he’d already be at the window with his sketch pad, drawing whatever subject had come to mind (It was almost always you) while he sipped away on his coffee or tea of the morning. 

You pushed yourself to the edge of the counter, allowing yourself to slide over the edge and onto your feet before you took off towards the stairs of your loft. The railing– a black, thin fixture– was crisp and loud under your touch, prompting you to let go of it as you climbed the remainder of the stairs. You wanted to wake him as softly and sweetly as possible, especially today. 

A soft smile adorned your lips as you approached your bedroom, eyes locking on the adorable sight that was your boyfriend. He was sprawled out over the bed, arms clutching your pillow to his chest in his sleep. His face rested on your other one, buried under a mess of long, dark hair, but from what you could make out— his pink, swollen lips and red, flushed cheeks— he was sleeping peacefully. Several large windows fixed across the space poured in more of that golden hue, making him seem even more angelic than he was, and for a moment, you just wished you could draw as well as him. 

“Honey,” you called, this time a lot softer as you approached his resting figure. He hummed softly in response, but his eyes still didn’t open. 

Crawling into bed next to him, you grabbed the pillow he clung to and pulled it away to catch his attention. He whined at your antics, stirring more as he reached for something else to hold. 

“You gotta wake up now.” You said through a smile of pure admiration. He looked so cute to you like this, and there was little you could do to stop your hands from coming up and fanning through his pretty locks. You started at the front, lightly combing away the strands that obscured his pretty face— a face sculpted by some Greek god whom you’d thank every day for the rest of your life. Then, you brought your hands back to gently fluff up the rest of his mane, giggling at how he whined more under your touch. 

“I have a surprise for you.”

He blew out a deep breath, eyes clamping shut for a few seconds as he struggled to wake up fully. After a few more moments of silence, his eyes opened in a squint, dark brown irises magnified by light tears. He didn’t speak and opened his mouth in a wide “O” shape, letting out a soft yawn that only made your heart grow softer.

“What surprise?” he whispered, hands coming up to wipe the sleep out of his face. 

“You’ll have to come with me to see.” You whispered back, beginning to raise yourself from the bed. 

His touch against your thigh immediately halted your actions, the warm sensation sending a small jolt of electricity up your body. It was jarring— the feeling of his hand squeezing into you— but it was also incredibly welcomed, and you immediately allowed yourself to sink back into the plush surface beneath you. 

“Wait,” his voice was soft but raspy, still stale from the lack of use overnight, “Will you lay here with me for a few more seconds, please?” 

“Baby, I-” but before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you into his bare, broad chest and laying back down with you. 

“Just a few more minutes.” 

-

You weren’t sure how long you spent nestled in Hyunjin’s arms before you realized you’d still had that oven on. While the boy rested peacefully above you, you slid out of his grasp as swiftly as possible, as you knew he’d only pull you back if he were to wake. 

Then, you were back downstairs, without your boy, right at square one. 

You sighed as you glanced around at the setting you’d created for the two of you: mugs of hot chocolate (That’d long gone cold) with heart-shaped marshmallows floating in it, festive cookware, pink and white candles, your Polaroid loaded with red and white film; a cute baking date for the two of you to bring in Valentine’s day, and yet you couldn’t get him down here. 

Sunrise had long since passed, and now, a pale, white light poured into your kitchen, adding a lighter feel to the scene you’d set. It still looked just as pretty to you, even though you hadn’t envisioned it like this, and you were itching for Hyunjin to see it as well. 

You racked your brain for what to do, contemplating going up and trying to get him a second time before your eyes ghosted over the light pink vinyl player you’d set up when you were decorating. You immediately walked over to it, looking through the few records you sat out. Most were by Lana Del Rey, a guilty pleasure of Hyunjin’s, though he never seemed too guilty. The only one that was different was one with a brown and beige cover, depicting a man and woman who you could only assume were from the Victorian age. The man was on his knees, facing away from an unknown woman who used his capped head as an armrest or a leaning post. The image of the two was encased by dark, interlinking tiles, snaking from one end of the vinyl to the other, leaving a space at the bottom where you’d penned in a simple titled: “Je te laisserai des mot.” 

After lifting the needle, you slid the vinyl from its casing and delicately placed it on the player, taking a second to wipe away any dust that’d settled on it. Then, you dropped the needle to its proper position, lifted the volume slider to its maximum setting, and pressed play. 

The melodic humming of a man filled your mind immediately, accompanied by the few keys of a piano. The feeling fluttering through your heart was hard to explain; it was lovely, like a mix of bliss and happiness that possessed you as you melted into the chords, but there was also a sense of pain and longing etched into it.  

Your eyes clamped shut as the song forged on, his humming growing quiet as a symphony of strings and piano overtook him. When you first saw the record, you thought that perhaps you’d left it out by mistake. You’d always found it to be a particularly romantic song, and it did remind you of Hyun, but part of you felt as if it were too sad to play at a moment like this. However, now you could see why you’d chosen to leave it out. 

When you listened to it, moments that you and he had shared flashed through your mind like pretty scenes from a movie: driving in the rain with your hands intertwined, slow dancing in the living room as the city lights shined on you, staring at each other until you both got shy and laughed the feeling away: all those beautiful things that the two of you had done moving by like a montage. But you didn’t want the moment you two were about to share to be a part of that; you wanted it to be the scene itself. 

Just as the symphony faded and the man’s voice bled back in, you began to hear shuffling from upstairs, which snapped you from your sudden idleness. 

You turned to the two mugs of cocoa and put them into the microwave to heat for a few minutes, excitement coursing through you. 

The song continued to lull in the background, the man’s words echoing through your head. 

Je te laisserai des mot 

“I will leave you with notes,” you translated out in your head. You didn’t speak French, no, but you’d listened to the song so often that you made it a point to look up translations of the lyrics, and you now knew just about everything he sang by heart. 

En-dessous de ta porte 

“Underneath your door.”

En-dessous de les murs qui chantent 

“Underneath the singing walls.” 

You began to sing along with the lyrics lowly, admiring the way your voice seemed to blend in with the silkiness of the singers. At the same time, you could hear how Hyunjin shuffled out of bed, taking a few seconds before he walked towards the stairs. He paused at the top of the case for a few beats, almost as if to get a better listen, before hurriedly skipping down them two steps at a time. 

You looked his way, smile gleaming as you took note of his disheveled state. Despite your smoothing earlier, his hair was back to being a mess, some of it making a curtain over his eyes while the rest swooped and curled about. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the several love bites you’d given him the night before were very visible, making your cheeks heat a bit. The most amusing part of it all, though, was the boy’s face. Even with his tired appearance, his eyes were wide with shock and excitement, and his lips formed a small circle as he analyzed the kitchen for himself. 

“You did all of this, baby?” He finally quipped after a few seconds of staring. You couldn’t suppress your giggle as you moved to stop the microwave, gently grabbing the handles of the mugs and placing them on the counter. 

“Of course I did.” You replied, walking towards him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my boy.” 

A soft smile spread across his face at your words, and he began to walk towards you, meeting you in the middle and wrapping you up in his arms without a second thought. You could feel how fast his heart was beating against you, the beat so clear with your head against his chest. Even after dating for so long, being that close to you never failed to make him nervous. 

“I love you.” He whispered, breaking the brief silence that’d settled between you. His hands squeezed your waist tighter at his statement, and you could feel how bated his breath was as the words left his mouth– almost like he was scared. 

You paused for a second, giving yourself the time to pour over his words. He’d told you that so many times. So, so many times, yet it caught you by surprise each one. 

You pulled back for a second and ran your hands down from his neck to his bare chest, allowing them to rest there as you looked up at him.

The song still hummed in the background, a soft, melodic humming drifting through the air as the two of you gazed upon each other. You fought against yourself, wanting nothing more but to press your lips against his and pour as much of your love into as him could, but you knew that you couldn’t. He knew what it felt like. He needed to hear it now. 

“Hyunjin,” you started, watching as his eyes widened a bit as he became more eager to hear what you’d say, “there aren’t words strong enough to describe the way I feel about you.” 

“I mean…I need you.” You continued, tilting your head slightly as you moved your hands up to play in his hair. His eyes blinked closed a few times at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp, causing you to giggle a bit, before he diverted his attention back towards you. 

“I adore you.” A blissful smile crossed his face at that, eyes crinkling at the sides. 

You inched your face closer to his, standing up on your tippy toes in an effort to level with him more. 

“I love you, baby.” You finally whispered, voice as smooth as honey. “I love you so much.” 

And with that, your lips were against his. 

-

“What’d you write on yours?” You questioned, looking over only for him to shield his pan with his arm. 

“Not yet!” He exclaimed, lowering his face closer to his work as he moved the piping bag along as slowly and carefully as he could. 

“Hyunjin…” you whined, tapping his arm slightly to his panic. You’d long been done with decorating and were now standing off to the side, sipping on your second mug of hot cocoa of the morning. 

You knew how particular Hyun was when it came to his art, and it was always something that you admired, but it was killing you that he was being so secretive, especially because you hadn’t expected him to take it that seriously. It was food coloring and frosting after all. Not oil canvases and watercolors. What was taking him so long? 

You shifted away for a second towards the record player again, noticing how Lana’s dreamy voice had faded out and the record was starting from the beginning once again. You flicked the pause button and lifted the needle, bringing your finger down onto the vinyl and letting it scape against its surface as it came to a stop. 

“Do me a favor, please.” Hyunjin pipped up. 

You paused, looking back at him as you waited for him to continue.

“Play our song.” This time he looked back, piping bag in hand as he met your gaze. 

You threw him a soft smile before you turned back, putting the first vinyl away and grabbing the all-too-familiar beige cover. 

For the fourth time that morning, you loaded it onto the player and began to play it, humming softly as you did so. Hyunjin joined in, voice softer than yours, but still there. He always did that when you sang– joined in with you, softly enough to hear you, but loud enough to let you know he was there. 

Just as the man’s voice began to fade in, Hyunjin broke away from the song, and whispered a simple, “Come here, baby.” 

You did as he asked, sitting your mug down on the counter in front of you and turning to approach him. You rested your head against his shoulder, one arm draping across his shoulder as you peered down at the pink, heart-shaped pan that rested right next to yours. 

In his, lay a heart-shaped cookie cake, covered from top to bottom in light brown frosting. It was perfectly smooth, not a single dip or line in its foundation, and you just knew that Hyunjin had gone over it time and time again to make sure of that. Around the edges of the cookie were white, interwebbing vines that crawled up the sides and stopped just shy of the upper edge. The most captivating part, however, was the top that was particularly bare, away from thirteen, white cursive words. 

“I will always leave you notes if you will always pick them up.”

Je te laisserai des mot.

A/N: Hey y'all! This was meant to come out on Valentine's Day (I'm a day late and a dollar short, I know🥲) but I've been swamped and had to push it back. Still, I hope you guys enjoy having a late V-day with this sweet boy. Thanks for reading! -M'k <3

[ohsunnyboy]

against everything | shen quanrui ˚₊‧⁺˖

you know nothing about shen quanrui, duke of the north. all you do know is that you're getting married and you're winning this sword fight.

TAGS: royalty!au, cold duke!ricky, gn!reader, rivals/enemies/strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, sparring!!, a little mean!ricky for the sake of the au, gets angsty in the end v sorry haha

A/N: this has been in the drafts since debut lmao it's v long but enjoy!!! as always, purely self indulgent ! (pls imagine historical manhwa level visuals iykyk)

WORDS: ~1900

Could there be a worse fate than this? Marrying Shen Quanrui, elusive Duke of the North and Lord of Yuehua.

You knew that marriage was coming. Being the youngest in the family and the rest of your brothers off to the capital to play bachelors and sisters bartered off for titles. One by one, marriage invites piled up over your desk until it finally came time for you to write your own.

Yet still, you have yet to meet him.

What you do know of the duke, is that he exists and is not mere fragment of your imagination — according to your mother.  It’s his estate you’re getting married at, but he hasn’t shown his face once in your week here. Not a letter, a word, anything! Anything would be better than this silence that plagues the grounds.

You pull your coat tighter around you as the northern chill slides under your bones. You want to begin to rethink all your feeble decisions right then and there. Or rather, the lack of your decisions that's brought you here. Wandering the Shen gardens like a ghost with an intent to haunt someone you’ve never even met.

Though, it seems like a calling of fate when you turn to an open yard.

Here, the snow clears away to worn cobble leading to a snow spackled dirt and a sparring platform. Swords line the training ground and gleam in the moonlight as you make your way towards them. Clearly standard issue and worn beyond ware, but swords, nonetheless. You can’t help but feel a little giddy, no one should be about at midnight like this, and no one should be out looking for the training grounds either. You clamber up the stairs to the wooden stage. Each board creaks lightly under your feet, almost like the decks of the galleys you used to run about on. From above, it’s easy to become entranced watching the snow spiral down as it settles.

You really could stand in marvel all night, but a figure watches you from where you came from. A bolt of fear strikes through you, dark eyes watching you freeze. Is it fate? Another ghost that haunts this place?

"Who are you?" the boy ask – or rather, demands.

You almost blink twice to make sure you aren’t dreaming. His hair is the palest of whites, rivalling the light of the moon and the falling snow itself. You’d stay in your stupor for longer, but he stares with a hard set in his eye that you know only means trouble.

"Oughtn’t you introduce yourself before you ask?" you snap.

“I asked first.”

“And it’s rude to ask and not offer your own name first.”

Your reply only ticks him off further it seems as he reaches for one of the sabres on the rack. "Then we fight for it,” mystery man says simply.

"Now? anyone could see us plain as day if they look out the windows! are you insane!" You can hardly believe it when he kicks another sabre across the stage to your feet. "What if the duke sees us?" you hiss, but it only makes him smirk further.

"Then let him," he counters with a flourish of his blade. "Or are you scared, peasant?"

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you swipe it from the floor with indignation. Honestly, he’s nothing impressive. What’s a pretty face when he’s built like a sheaf of paper? Your brothers are easily bulkier and taller compared to him, and you've swept the floor with them before. With him? it’s a matter of deck scrubbing him into the snow.

The sabre fits into your palm with a comforting weight. It's a far throw from duelling on ships and jagged seas but it's the song of duelling that sounds like home.

"Done playing with it? Or do you need a sword lesson instead?" and oh, that smirk is infuriating. "First to yield divests their name and title – should they even own one," he drawls.

All you can do is nod and settle into stance. Low and wide for balance, steady as an anchor in tide – all the more important with the ice. He mirrors with his own, a little taller, a little more forward, and with a whole lot more ego than what he should have.

A moment, slow and quiet, is spent staring down the edge of your swords. His steps, closer and closer, the howl of the air—

Then, he lunges.

When you meet, it’s mean, forceful and utterly demanding. Though, would you expect anything less of him?

It’s a game of darting and pushing. In and out of each other’s reach by just a breath. When you circle each other, his eyes follow you everywhere. It’s a gaze that would crumble you if you weren’t running on sheer adrenaline right now. You could count the sweat on his brow each time he tries to brute force his sabre down on you, but you parry just as strong. 

Every strike you sweep, you channel all the pent-up nerves behind them. A week of restlessness, of anger all coming down an a willing, taunting target.

The next sweep that he dives for cuts from his left to right, instead of parrying, you decide to lunge again. You go low, essentially diving under his blade and entirely into his space. You seize your chance, blood rushing in your head and mouth twisted in a horribly cocky grin and shove him to the floor. When he lands with a thud, lips parted in surprise, you waste no time in pinning him down, forearm barred across his chest and sword staked into the wood next to his neck.

"Do you yield?" Your breath ghosts across his face, twining with his own in this cold air.

The moon illuminates his sweat like shattered stars across his skin, pale as the snow and flawless as the sky. You want to sneer it into his skin: his gorgeous devastation. Perfection and arrogance wrapped into one.

"Out with it,” you glower over the pound of your heart and the silence between you two.

He must see something because you have no idea what’s got him smiling like that.

"Shen." What? " Warden of the North and Duke of Yuehua." A thousand thoughts, and a million more revelations. No way, this isn't possible. "Shen Quanrui, though, I thought you would have known already – with your attitude and all."

You feel the heat of the situation pour into you like the sun projecting a thousand-fold upon yourself. You scramble back, desperate for some decency because you've effectively just sat on the duke, warden of the north, and, least importantly of all, your soon-to-be husband. Quanrui rises as you fall backwards into the snow, the sword clattering next to you as he reverses the position.

“My lord,” you’re babbling now. The grin on his face is sly and all too prideful but it brings an angry red to your face that would have your brothers rolling in laughter. “I…I had no idea.”

And Quanrui huffs a small laugh at you beneath him, scrambling for words. “You have made that quite clear, darling.” His silhouette eclipses the moon, and you swear the glint in his eyes twinkle along with the stars above.

“Darling?”

“Do you not like it, darling?” Quanrui says it like trying a new wine on his tongue. He tries to roll it, like one of those sopranos at the opera, all natural and beholding. Is it stupid to be so entranced in someone? You know nothing about him – no one does. But can you say that when he’s staring at you like this? Calling you darling like this? Holding you like this?

So blind to it all, isn’t he?

“No, not at all.” You shake your head getting yourself out of your stupor, trying to put your words together. “It’s just… you have not come to see me once in my week here. Why do you only turn up now, not even on purpose, when we’re to be wed by the end of the fortnight?” It comes out in a stream, past freezing lips and over piles of abandoned reasoning. “Is this the cruelty they speak of? Your empty coldness then a taunting heat? What then after this, my lord. Will you leave me to the cold another week, to haunt your palace like a fool? What then—”

An arresting hand presses over your mouth, stopping your stream of consciousness. Devastation paints Quanrui’s face when you blink past your anger. Long gone is his smirk, and all the stars in his eyes. It’s pinched with guilt.

“I never meant for it. Never – I never meant for cruelty. I’d thought you would want space, time to adjust and settle in by yourself! I thought—”

“You thought! But you never wrote, you never knew in the first place, my lord,” you sneer. “You never had a right to assume, when all you know are damned titled deeds and how many men my father will send for your blasted armies. Do you even know I’m from the eastern coasts? That I’d never even seen snow until I stepped foot into your land. And you think I wanted space!?”

“Enough.” He sits back on his heels, head facing to the falling sky; illuminated like a god ascended. What a waste of a pretty face when Quanrui looks down at you, eyes bared to confess. “I had no right. You are true, everything is true.  I do not know you, but I will learn you,” he promises. “I won’t leave you to bear this cold alone. Leaving you to face against everything yourself was my first mistake and I will make it my last.”  

You almost laugh, nigh incredulous at his claims. “Bold words, my lord. Are you rehearsing your vows as we speak in this moment?” Your temper ebbs and flows, this is cruel, you want to say, but you bite your tongue before he remembers that abandoned sword next to you.

“Nothing about this—“ Quanrui gestures to both your states “—is rehearsed, I swear.” The honesty is etched into his being. “You fought me – the real me. And beat me well at it too.”

Finally, you do laugh. “That I did! Doesn’t that make you even more unworthy of me?” It’s posed like a barb, but you say it with a grin. If he can fight for his honour, there’s a chance at the truth.

Infuriating as ever, his smirk is back in full force. “I don’t know. How about we settle the score properly?” Maybe you’ll come to love it – just one day. One day you’ll see past the snow and ice, remembering tumbling waves and open sun, to love a marriage wrought with him.

“Alright then.”

The night is long in the north, impossibly so. But time will come, and the day will thaw the love that was buried all along.

i ran away with this defo, but i'm glad i’m done :) thanks so much for reading!! Please leave a reblog and a like if you enjoyed ⭒ masterlist

[thebibliosphere]

The impromptu home renovation is mostly done 🎉🎉🎉

Yesterday I:

Refinished the strip of wood that was being used for a coat rack in the entryway, resealed it, and installed new brass hooks.

Switched out the switch panel for the same "Victorian" brass ones we have in the living room.

Got all the trim in the entryway finished.

Drilled and installed all-new brass drawer pulls on the heavy cedar built-in closet in the hallway. Apparently, the ones that were there were held in place with paint because the screws had snapped off inside 😬 (No big deal, not like we open and close those drawers every day.)

Got the first coat of blue paint up in the hallway.

Today I:

Got the second coat of paint up in the hallway.

Got most of the trim done.

Spilled a lot of gloss on the floor and swore a lot.

Cleaned it up.

Re-lined all the built-in-drawers because your girl is allergic to cedar, and that's where we keep all our linens 🙃

Tomorrow I need to:

Touch up some of the trim in the hallway where my hands weren't as steady as I would have liked.

Put the built-in drawers back in place.

@mothman-etd is going to help me finish installing the new door knob in the entryway.

Try to get the ceiling panels up in the entryway and install the new light fixture, but no biggie if we don't.

We're doing what we did in my office with the faux beams, though I haven't decided if we should go with white or pink yet. I guess it will depend on how much paint we have left tomorrow 😅

But otherwise, it's just cleaning up on Monday and putting everything away.

And then, THEN, I can DECORATE.

HOLO GLITTER TREE, HERE WE COME 🎄🎄🎄

---

*I need to redo one of the living room walls because one of the drawer panels I had leaning against it gouged fuck out of it and left a big white mark in the lovely gloomy blue. But that shouldn't take too long.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Midnight Masquerade - Tech

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Tech, who, despite not being dressed as a classic 'monster,' still shows you a monstrously good time. (badum-tss)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ minors go away; mad scientist!Tech x gn!reader; kinks: forced orgasms + erotic electrostimulation; discussion of consent and safewords, kind of dark!Tech but only a little, restraints, ball gag, aphrodisiac, vibrator use, overstimulation, pain-as-pleasure, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it irl) (can be read as PiV or PiA), they actually use lube for once, aftercare, they kiss but only once; if I missed any please let me know!

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Happy Friday the 13th! 🔪 I refuse to apologize for this one. much appreciation to @sev-on-kamino for beta'ing this chapter <3

Read the intro here! | Suggested listening | Tech's costume inspo!

...Tech. 

A round of wolf-whistles rises from the rest of the group (quite literally, in Hunter’s case). Across the table, Tech’s white, blood-splattered lab coat glows in a flash of ultraviolet lights; his swirling goggles gleam. You stare for a moment, transfixed by the way the blood illuminates in a deep, glowing blue, so dark it’s nearly black. The sight should give you pause, but instead, warmth pools low in your belly. Whatever scientist Tech is embodying, there is no doubt in your mind of how utterly dangerous—and yet how utterly capable—he is.

You stand. Tech rises from his seat as well, adjusts the collar of the coat, and runs one hand through his curls to smooth them. Despite the action, one stubborn curl falls onto his forehead. 

“I hope you do not mind, ner cyar’ika,” Tech says as he approaches, “that I will be cataloging all physiological reactions and changes during this process.” 

“I expected nothing less from you, Tech,” you say with a smile. 

He simply nods. Waving at the rest of the table, you allow Tech to lead you through the crowd. The press of bodies doesn’t bother you; but nonetheless, you keep close to Tech. He uses his height to his advantage, standing several inches taller than the regs, as he guides you towards the back of the building. Though you catch glimpses of other troopers you recognize, you can’t help the way your gaze always draws back to Tech. His presence is magnetic. The way his shoulders stretch the lab coat makes your mouth water. 

His voice jolts you out of your silent admiration. “I had the good fortune of exploring the back area of this building when we arrived,” he says, ushering you past the threshold. “It seems that many of these rooms were purpose-built for an event such as this. Our hosts must understand the rather base instinct to, ah, how did you put it? ‘Know how a monster fucks’.”

Hearing such vulgar language spill from Tech’s lips sends a delightful shiver up your spine. “I assume you picked a room already?” 

“Of course,” he says. The grin he fixes you with is so unlike his usual stoic countenance that it throws you off. Lopsided, nearly a snarl, his gaze piercing and laser-focused behind those odd goggles, he seems to undress you with his eyes. Then the moment passes, and his expression smooths into his usual close-lipped smile. 

“I presume,” he says, leading you down a labyrinth of hallways, “you have a safe word.”

“I do,” you say. “Meiloorun.” 

“Excellent,” he says. “Mine is ‘occlusive’.”

You nod, committing the word to memory. 

“Ah.” He pushes a door open with one large hand. “Here we are.” 

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t far off from the sight before you. Inside, a cobblestone room is dominated by a massive metallic tilt table, currently vertical, with slack leather straps. Racks of various implements, some of it almost...medical in appearance, rest on wheeled carts near the table. Flickering sconces provide unstable illumination. The faintest scent of chemicals tickles your nose. That warmth in your belly from before, sparked by the alluring mixture of dangerous and capable, kindles into a low flame. Your chest rises and falls faster, anticipation making your fingers tingle. 

The door shuts. You flinch at the resounding boom of a thick wooden beam sliding home. 

“Now, ner cyar’ika,” Tech murmurs. He pauses by your side, eyes searching your expression as you continue to survey the room. “Normally I would offer to explain what is going to happen, but I think in this case, a single-blind experiment is in order.”

Snapping your head to look at him, you meet his calm, calculating gaze with widening eyes. There’s something there that again gives you the distinct impression that you should be scared—he is a mad scientist after all, and who knows what that magic potion can do? Those medical tools...the table with straps...clearly you’re meant to be an experiment. 

But of what nature?

“Tech—”

“Doctor.” 

You blink, heat blazing through you. “Of course. Doctor. May I at least ask the inspiration for your...costume?” You gesture vaguely at his attire.

“Granted,” he says, an amused lilt to his voice. “You see, I often have the ability to engage in experiments. In part, it is what I was made for. However, these experiments are always done in service of the greater good. The Republic, my brothers, Kamino. 

“I do not begrudge these experiments. But,” he pauses, and his gaze lingers on your lips—your neck—your waist, “I want something for myself.” 

Goosebumps prickle delightfully along your skin. Tech’s eyes miss nothing, and his brows twitch in amusement at your reaction. 

“What is that exactly?” you ask. You can’t help how breathy your voice comes out. Arousal, hot and thick, rests under your skin. 

“You, ner cyar’ika.” He says it like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. It would be sweet, except for the harsh, possessive undertone that washes over your skin and sets your nerves screaming. “I may not be a monster in the classic sense, but the urge to claim you for myself may certainly drive me to act...monstrously.” 

Your core clenches around nothing. If he’s a monster, so are you, you decide. Nodding once, you quickly shuck your clothing, ignoring Tech’s quietly hungry stare, and allow yourself to stand completely bare before him. The cool air of the chamber makes your nipples pebble, stiffening to taut peaks. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you raise one eyebrow as if to say, Well? 

Tech’s gaze darkens behind those swirled goggles, his hands reaching for you. He stops himself, though. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. 

“I do,” you say. 

He bares his teeth in a feral smile, nearly a grimace. “You really oughtn’t.”

Without giving you time to react, he snatches one of your wrists and twists your arm behind your back—not enough to hurt, but enough to startle you. A squeak of surprise escapes you. You can’t do much else but march forward, the pressure in your shoulder growing as he pushes your arm against your back.

Tech parades you to the tilt table and roughly spins you around. Your back arches as the cool metal kisses your skin; shivers wrack your body, nipples becoming almost painfully hard with the added stimulus. Tech’s hands, rough and calloused, manipulate your body into position, ignoring your physical discomfort. Arms held overhead, wrists secured by supple leather straps about shoulder-width apart, your body stretches over the table. He nudges your feet apart, the toe of his boot tapping your instep, before he crouches to tighten similar straps around your ankles. 

Standing straight once more, his gaze sweeps your restrained, prone form hungrily. This time, he allows himself to reach out and caress you. One large hand cups your face. You nuzzle into his touch—but he draws his hand away just as quickly, down your body to tweak one nipple then the other, drawing a gasp from you. And farther down still, fingertips skimming your heated and sensitive skin, dancing around the one place you ache to feel him. 

“Doctor,” you murmur. You try to press your chest forward in presentation, lure him into doing what you want. 

He chuckles and withdraws completely. With a petulant whine, you watch, neck straining with the angle, as he retreats to one of the wheeled trays. Though you can’t see, you can only imagine the kinds of tools and toys he’s poring over. Your breath hitches when he faces you once more, several items held in his hands. What draws your attention are the ball gag and vibrator, but he also carries a length of silk ribbon and—is that a potion? 

Tech sets the ribbon and vibrator down. When he straightens, he uncorks the small, glowing red bottle. A puff of sweet scent, like strawberries, wafts to you.

“Drink this,” he orders, holding the bottle to your lips. At your wide-eyed, worried look, he sighs. “It is an aphrodisiac. It will ensure that you stay hydrated and that your body does not tire as quickly as it normally would.”

He had said you shouldn’t trust him, so why do you still do? Perhaps, despite the magic potion lowering his inhibitions, he’s still Tech, still the intelligent, caring man you’ve been casual acquaintances with for some months now. Tech wouldn’t hurt you. 

You open your mouth and allow him to pour the liquid in. Sweetness explodes on your tongue, definitely berry-flavored, and it settles into your belly with a peculiar sensation, like popping candy. 

While your mouth is still open, he pushes the ball gag in. The red rubber ball wedges your jaw open; saliva already begins to pool around the intrusion where it rests on your tongue. 

“Very good,” Tech states once the gag is secure. He bends to retrieve the other objects. “Now, here is how this is going to work. You are going to cum as much as I deem fit for my experiment. I need reliable data, and you are my guinea pig.” 

Eyes widening, you whimper around the gag. 

He ties the silk ribbon around one of your thighs, creating a loop for the vibrator. Once his handiwork is complete, he nods. The head of the vibrator rests against your aching core; no matter how much you squirm and twist, or angle your hips, the toy won’t move. Breathing shallowly through your nose, you follow Tech with your gaze as he moves away again. 

Your one solace is that, when he turns, you catch sight of the sizable bulge tenting his pants. Maybe you can break his resolve, convince him, somehow, to have mercy on you. 

Kriff, he hasn’t even started yet. Spit drooling down your chin, you steel your nerves. 

“Ready?” he asks. 

You try to answer in the affirmative, but the gag in your mouth prevents the words from forming, half-moaned grunts falling from you instead.  

“That is satisfactory.”

He pushes a button on the small device in his hand. The vibrator whirs to life. Your body jerks, pleasure arcing through you. Moaning, you roll your hips. Though the vibrations aren’t strong enough to make you cum, not yet, it feels divine to have some kind of stimulation on your heated center. 

Tech strides to a nearby lever and pulls it back one notch, the heavy metal gear clanking, his biceps bulging with the effort. The table you’re strapped to begins to incline until your body now rests at an angle, the change in position altering the pressure on your wrists and ankles. Flexing your fingers, you peer at Tech through half-lidded eyes. 

He merely hums and, with a click of a button, ups the intensity. You groan as the vibrations climb, ripples of pleasure cascading through you. Undulating your hips, you chase the growing seed of orgasm sparking to life in your belly. Pleasure laps against your senses like the incoming tide, each wave larger than the last, each one threatening to drown you—but it’s not until Tech pushes another button that the surf breaks over your head. 

You cum, body pulling taut as you cry out. There is nothing for you to do except let it ride out; and once the pleasure resides, aftershocks jolting your body, you whine, trying to arch your body away from the vibrations. 

But you can’t. Stalking around the table, Tech’s eyes devour the way that your body twitches in overstimulation. You become aware of the sweat already pooling in the bend of your clavicles, the sticky release coating your lower half. On your own, you’d be satisfied, arousal ready to abate.

Tech, on the other hand, is not sated. Another press of the button, and the vibrations intensify another notch. You yelp. Tugging at your restraints, you try to remember how to breathe as the string in your belly begins to pull tight again. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and submersed in ice at the same time, nerves singing. 

At another increase in intensity, you shout, cumming again. Every muscle in your body locks up, brow scrunched as you bite down on the gag in your mouth. 

Zap! 

You flinch. Eyes shooting open, you stare at Tech and the new device in his hand. Confusion and the painful shock, already diminishing, distract you from the never-ending overstimulation between your legs.

“It is a specially designed electrostimulation tool,” Tech explains. He holds the small, handheld cylindrical device up to your face. Smooth and nondescript, the end of it contains two metallic prongs that remind you vaguely of a taser. What in the Sith blazing hells is he doing!?

In your ears, your heart thuds, drowning out everything else as the vibrations change in pattern this time. Shifting from the steady, monotonous drone, Tech selects a rhythm of several short bursts followed by one long drag of vibrations. Each pulse makes your body lurch. You’re already so spent, and yet, you feel another orgasm building in your belly. Toes curling, nails digging into your palms, you loose a hoarse cry when the pleasure crests once again. It pulsates through your entire being, throbbing in time with your heart.

Zap!

Whining, you try to twist your body away from the painful sting—but it was slightly less unpleasant this time than before. Panting, spit coating your entire front, you study Tech with guarded eyes as he brushes his knuckles over your flushed and warm cheek. 

“Doing so well,” he murmurs. “Giving me such excellent data to work with. Now, cum for me again, ner cyar’ika. You can do it.” 

A wail rips from your throat as the pattern changes again—several staccato pulses in quick succession, with no end in sight—and the intensity grows. It’s becoming nearly painful, but there’s a part of you, deep down, that preens under the praise, under the idea that Tech believes you’re a good subject for his experiment. 

It takes a few moments longer, but you eventually cum for a third time. This time, you anticipate the electric shock, and this time, you find it feels...not pleasurable, necessarily, but good. Moaning brokenly, your head thunks back against the table’s surface. Your entire body is overheated, flushed with equal parts arousal and embarrassment, sticky with sweat, spit, and slick. You’re a mess. 

In contrast, the only sign that this is affecting Tech at all are two high spots of color on his cheeks and a wet patch where the tip of his dick strains against his pants. He flashes you that dangerous smirk, one that you know now means that he’s not done with you. Far from it. 

“Again.” 

You lose track of how many times you cum. You’re sobbing, tears mixing with spit and sweat, body wracked with unending quivers as Tech plays with the settings of the vibrator. Equal parts pleasure and pain clash within you, each one feeding into the other. You’re uncertain how you’re still aware, mind so blissed out that the only thought you can conjure is how empty you feel. Despite reaching your peak so, so many times, there remains an ache in your core. 

Zap!

You nearly cum just from the electric shock alone. Body sagging forward, you keen, voice cracking as pleasure threatens to blind you once again. 

“Fascinating.” Tech switches off the vibrator suddenly. “Absolutely fascinating.” 

You draw in shuddering breaths through your nose. Vaguely, you’re aware of Tech bustling around you, but you don’t care to focus until you feel him loosening the restraints holding your limbs down: first your ankles, then your wrists. He catches your limp body as you fall weakly forward. Arms supporting you easily, he carries you to a bed that you hadn’t noticed earlier, laying you on its plush surface. 

Next, he removes the gag. He holds your mouth open once the toy is gone, then slowly helps you close it, massaging the joints of your jaw to help work out the soreness. 

Tears continue to leak from your eyes. You don’t have the strength to raise your head, barely have the strength to reach with trembling fingers for him, but you whimper low in your throat to catch his attention. 

“I am here, ner cyar’ika,” he assures. His voice still retains a hard edge to it. “What do you require?” 

“Y-You,” you gasp out. Your voice is raw and hoarse. “You.” 

He seems to understand. He shifts the both of you on the bed so that your legs fall open, bracketing where he kneels before you. At last you catch a glimpse of his hard length as he frees it from his pants. Angry red and dripping with pre-cum, his cock jumps as you moan. Tech squirts a line of lube onto his dick and then some onto his hand. He works most of it across your so-far neglected entrance. 

“P-Please,” you rasp. 

Wordlessly, he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your tight entrance. He pants, chin falling onto his chest to watch where your body swallows his length. That one stray curl bounces with the movement, and you yearn to brush it away from his forehead. As it is, you feel like you can barely move. All you can do is lie there and take it, take what you so desperately need. 

He stills when he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your ass. Fingers digging into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, his chest heaves with arousal. A low, broken wail rakes from your throat as the tip of him nestles against the bundle of nerves deep inside you, the perfect length, the perfect stretch. 

“Te-e-e-e-ch!” you cry. 

Nails biting into your skin, his grip tightens. “That is not my title, cyar’ika.” 

“D-Doctor,” you sob. “Please, doctor, fuck me!” 

“Gladly.” 

The pace he sets is punishing. His cock drives against that shattered piece of bliss in your core with each thrust, setting your entire body on fire once again. But this time it’s different. The thread in your belly winds tighter and tighter, but the rope is thicker this time—stronger, a heavier recoil. Dimly you’re aware of the way that Tech’s jaw clenches, the veins in his neck standing out as he strains, the heavy and wet clap of his balls against your ass. But your mind zeroes in on the stretch of your hole around his thick length—and without warning, you cum. 

You black out for a moment, ears ringing. Then: screaming. You’re aware of someone screaming. You think it’s you wailing, unable to control yourself. Your entire body is rigid, legs convulsing around Tech’s waist as he groans, high and heady. 

“That’s it, let everyone know the monster making you feel this good,” he grits out. Though his hips falter for a moment, he doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before he groans, tossing his head back as his dick pulses, his hot, sticky seed spilling into your spent body. 

Shaking, you whimper as his softening length slips from you. You lay there, gasping for breath, staring up at the stone ceiling while Tech rummages through supplies nearby. Your entire body is sore, aching, battered; yet you’ve never felt more gratified in your entire life. 

“Darling,” Tech’s voice whispers nearby. 

You don’t have the will to turn your head, but in your periphery you’re aware of him sitting on the bed next to you, wiping away the various fluids that coat your body. Lips twitching in a small smile, you simply gaze at him through hooded eyes. He’s doffed the lab coat, leaving him in his blacks, and swapped his goggles for his normal yellow lenses. Contentment sprawls through you at the sight of him, so familiar. 

“You performed exceptionally well,” he says with his usual, barely-there smile. “Thank you. As soon as you are able, I would like to talk through everything you experienced, if that is alright.” 

Blinking once, you try to nod. 

Tech shushes you, smoothing a hand over your forehead. “I’ll get you some water. Regrettably, these rooms do not come equipped with a refresher of any kind; I shall put in a formal request with our hosts so they can make appropriate changes for the next party.”

Quiet amusement, warm and affectionate, curls through your chest. Of course Tech would be concerned about this place not having the proper amenities. 

With supreme effort, you get your vocal chords to work. “Tech?” 

He hums. “Yes?” 

“Kiss me?” 

A small chuckle escapes him, but he obliges, leaning over to press his lips to yours in a chaste, sweet first kiss. You sigh happily. Body slipping into sleep, you can’t fight the warm pull of dreams any longer, but you vow to kiss him again as soon as you’re able, his lips soft and smooth against yours.

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[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

Hello lovely, I’m the anon who requested the recent Eric x reader and I just wanna say I love it so much! And yes I was meaning a femme reader and it came out amazingly! I can’t wait till the second part! It’s gonna be awesome!

Hi! Thanks for your patience! And so glad you liked part 1! Tysm! Here is part 2:

“I’m Only Happy When It Rains” PART 2 (Eric Draven x reader) tw (consented) sex

Y/n grabbed a bottle of wine without waiting for Eric’s answer. He definitely looked like he could use something to drink. She struggled to open the bottle for a good few minutes, muttering a few curses before giving up.

“Need some help?” Eric asked after taking off his coat and hanging it up on the coat rack by the couch.

“Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. My bottle opener is screwed up and only works 40% of the time.” Y/n explained apologetically.

“Here, let me give it a try” Eric said from behind her. Y/n turned and handed him the bottle-opener. He began explaining to her what the issues was with it, but she couldn’t help staring at the holes and stains of criminals’ blood on his shirt.

“—So really all you have to do is press down here while it’s angled to the left. Or even better would be getting a new bottle opener!” Eric said, opening the bottle.

“Mhm.” Y/n stared blankly. “Thanks!” She said quickly, realizing she’d been daydreaming about him taking his shirt off.

“You… ok, Y/n? You look distracted.” Eric said, handing her the bottle.

Y/n bit her lip, trying to think of an excuse. Instead, all that ended up coming out of her mouth was “y-your shirt. Do you want me to get the stains out? Hydrogen Peroxide usually works…”

Eric blinked. “If you’re sure you want to… that would be nice.”

Y/n couldnt tell if he was blushing or not under his white makeup, but she liked to think he was. Y/n nodded eagerly, setting down the wine bottle and holding out her hands expectantly. Eric took that as a signal for him to take off his shirt. He pulled the tight black fabric off with ease, handing it to her. Y/n dared a quick glance at the shirtless vigilante as she walked towards the sink. He was clearly strong but built very lean, and scars from three bullet holes made small white circles on his chest. She wondered if these were the marks left from his actual life. The fatal wounds that had killed him. She grabbed the hydrogen peroxide from the cupboard under the sink, and uncapped it, wetting the shirt and pouring some on each stain in it. The water in the sink turned a morbid brownish red from the blood coming off the fabric.

“So…, now what?” Eric said from right behind her, watching with great interest.

“Now we let it soak!” Y/n replied, leaving the shirt draped over the side of the sink and drying her hands. “What type of music do you want to listen to while we have some wine?” She asked, trying to keep her calm with how close they were to each-other.

“Well, what music do you have?” Eric said, grinning a bit at the mention of music. He may not be in a band anymore, but he had never lost his love for music.

Y/n pulled some records off one of the shelves. “I’ve got… Alice In Chains, Mudhoney, Nirvana, and some stuff from the band that Shirley Manson is in.”

“You mean, the band ‘Garbage’?” Eric suggested.

“Yeah! I really like their song ‘Only Happy When It Rains…’ it has those really strong rock n roll vocals, you know?” Y/n said, holding up the record.

“Then let’s definitely listen to that,” Eric grinned, secretly happy Y/n loved so much alternative rock music.

Y/n put the record on the turntable, and set the needle down to the right part of the album. “I’m only happy when it rains! I’m only happy when it’s complicated. And though I know you can’t appreciate it, I’m only happy when it rains…” Shirley Manson’s voice came from the turntable as Eric poured them both a glass of wine. He watched Y/n spin around the kitchen, moving with the music. He set the wine aside when she spun his way, he caught her in his arms, and began dancing along with her. He loved the sparkle in her eyes and the playful way she twirled close to him. Y/n had so much life in her, it made him truly feel more alive.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” Y/n said, smiling mischievously.

Eric wrapped his arm around her waist, gently guiding her a bit closer. “I’m glad I saved you, Y/n. You’re a sweet girl. I feel something around you I haven’t felt in a long time…”

“Really?” Y/n said, leaning in and pressing her cheek against his chest. She half expected to be met with silence, so when she heard a steady heartbeat, she blushed deep pink.

“Mmm…” Eric Draven sighed softly… savoring her gentle embrace.

“If you feel this way…” Y/n started. “I think you should know I feel the same.” Her hands gently traced the scars on his chest. “Until you saved me today I was a ghost, wandering aimlessly through life.”

Eric inhaled the scent of her perfume, a tear trickling down his cheek as he kissed her forehead. “I swear I won’t let anything bad happen to you again…”

“I still feel violated by the way that the scumbag at my jewelry shop touched me. Maybe… maybe you could make it up to me?” Y/n suggested.

“How can I do that?” Eric said staring deeply into her eyes.

“Kiss me, on the lips this time. I’ll show you what you can do, just follow my lead.” She said, closing her eyes.

Eric met her parted lips with a passion that made Y/n weak in the knees. His kiss was intoxicating in the best way. As she kissed him back, their tongues entwined and Y/n felt her heart beating fast with desire. His hands wandered her body, caressing her curves as she unbuttoned his pants.

“Are you sure you want this?” Eric paused between moans as she tore off her dress. “I don’t want to take anything from you that you’re not willingly giving me…”

“Oh Eric!” Y/n said, impatient as she felt herself getting hot and wet for him. “I don’t just want this, I neeeed this.”

“Alright then…” he scooped her up off the ground, carrying her to the couch and laying her gently down with her legs spread wide. He felt his dick growing harder and harder as he pulled his pants off. Y/n eyed his cock with great satisfaction at its size.

Eagerly, Y/n played with her clit as she waited for him to penetrate her, fingers sopping wet from her lustful state. He kissed her neck passionately, and she pulled her fingers out so he could slide himself in. The way he filled her was extraordinary, as if he was meant to be inside her. Y/n moaned, crying softly as her she began to cum. “Ohhhhh Eric….” The music continued to play softly in the background as the two satisfied each-other’s fantasies and cravings.

After a while, Eric pulled out. “Did I do alright? Did I make it up to you?” He grinned.

“Yes!” Y/n panted, exhausted from the sex and more than pleased.

“Good.” Eric sighed.

-THATS ALL FOR NOW! Hope you enjoyed it!

[creativeashproductions]

The Old Therebefore // Luke Castellan

Part of the “The Threads the Bind Us” blurb collection

IN WHICH: Hex does the unthinkable and creates a successful adult life. Or Hex has made peace with the ending of her former relationship with Luke. Or thought so when suddenly Hex is sitting on her acreage porch reminiscing with him on their teen years and the interlude between Luke leaving and this moment.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, May’s mental state, and nostalgia.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem!reader (nicknamed Hex)

Words: 2.2k

Part of the “The Threads that Bind Us” blurb collection

A/N: Divider comes from @firefly-graphics.

@websterss Julieeeee look what I did!

Masterlist

It was the fifth anniversary of that night. 1,826 days, give or take, since the life you intricately built imploded. Even in the years following Luke’s disappearance from camp, the bitterness that had coated your love for him hadn’t kept you from your promise. Unlike Luke, you honoured your promises. So once the agony and heartbreak had dulled, you set out from camp to Connecticut.

The house was a pale blue with chipped white trim and flower beds just a tad overgrown. The massive tree in the front yard had a worn swing attached to the thickest branch that swayed either by the wind or the memories of a young child. There was an indent on the porch exactly where Luke had described falling and breaking his collarbone. The steps had been slick from the January snowstorm that year.

It was the Castellan home. The lights were on, and a man sat on the porch steps unmoving. Even if the godly attributes didn’t give it away, the nose and his fingers tapping a specific melody on his thighs gave him away. Even his posture.

Hermes. God of Messengers, Travellers, and Thieves. Messenger of the Gods. Or Luke’s estranged father and bane of his existence.

“He-“ 

“—respectfully, Hermes, I don’t want to discuss your child. I’m not your therapist nor your friend.” You sternly informed the god. You didn’t spare him another look before striding up the porch to the front door. When your hand is raised to knock, the grip of a warm hand is wrapped around your wrist.

“Fine. But taking it out on his mother—“Hermes almost winced when you cast a glare upon his features.

“Unlike you, I am not entirely a self-absorbed little errand boy for Zeus. Nor do I abandon people I love, even if Luke did it first.” You spat his name out with barely restrained disgust, “I made a promise to help, and I intend to make good on that promise.”

Hermes let you wrench your wrist from his hand and rap three times on the house. The door opened, revealing a woman about 5 feet 5 inches tall with thick black hair streaked with grey strands and a smile on her face. The shattered expression in her eyes and the blankness of her face stole your breath. May Castellan was older but still the same woman in that worn picture Luke hid under his bunk mattress; it had disappeared along with its owner.

“Hello.” May breathed, blinking until an unsettling smile coated her features, “Are you here for the cookies?”

“I am.” You spoke, deciding to keep her as calm as possible. 

You toed off your boots beside the much smaller kid shoes stashed on the mud rack. The rubber sole of the Converse had a little stick man doodled on it. Luke doodled the same stick man on all the soles of his shoes to deter his siblings from swiping them.

“I made Luke’s favourite. He’s at a friend’s.” May breathed in a trance, and you wondered what year she thought it was.

Even without peeking into her mind, you could feel the splinters of her sanity cutting into your abilities. It was so fragmented that you genuinely worried if you had even a chance to mend anything.

“Mrs. Castellan, do you remember the doctor talking about new methods beyond medication and traditional therapy?” you gently asked, watching as she pulled a pan of cookies from the oven. The warmth of the appliance heated the room to almost an uncomfortable temperature.

The sight of dozens of pans of cookies around the room, varying in colour from severely underbaked beige to as dark and hard as a hockey puck. 

“Oh yes.” May hummed, keeping her brown eyes on the scuffed blue porcelain mixing bowl. 

“Would you be interested in trying a few sessions with me?” You questioned and found for the first time since coming that she was all there mentally.

“Would it help Luke?” It was a timid question that confused you, but nonetheless, you answered.

“Maybe.”

“Okay.”

Your eyes peered over her shoulder to the entrance of the kitchen, where Hermes was standing as quietly as possible. His eyes followed May as she puttered around the kitchen and wandered to the plush couch in the living room. The walls held pictures of Luke at different ages, until the forlorn one with barely a smile at nine years old.

“Here, love.” Hermes soothed, guiding May’s hands to the cup on the coffee table. It still held the paper and crayons with LC on the box in chicken scratch.

You saw the little touches that meant a much younger and more innocent version of Luke had been here. Did the memories of Luke haunt the halls of his house like he did at camp? 

While having Hermes there was the last choice you would have made you would just have to make do. He kept urging May to listen as he told her tales from his long life. She didn’t twitch when your fingertips caressed her temples, and you toed inside her mind.

You had spent an entire year in Westport, using every weekend to untangle the strings of May’s sanity. Hermes never failed to be there to distract her and help her from fighting it. It was an intensely slow and exhausting year, but by the end, the fractures of her mind had mended. Now, it was a beautiful Kintsugi in her mind.

You left Westport to build a new life. You attended college and found a job at an independent bookstore. You had your own house. Had a promising career you were proud of. You did fairly well.

“Can you get the door?” 

You hummed from your position on the rug in the living room to get back on your feet from tidying it up. You could quickly wave a hand and manipulate your energy to pick everything up, but you liked pretending to be a regular mortal. Your only worries were being on time for work and keeping up with hobbies.

“Got it!” 

Your lips twitched. You found Chris Rodriguez trying to wrangle his kid into the karate uniform. You gently pushed him further away on your trip to the front door.

“Rodriguez, it’s Friday.” You spoke gazing over your shoulder while your fingers twisted the lock open, “Flag Football Friday.”

“Shit!” Chris swore, scooping Axel into his arms and racing back to the stairs. Your laugh cut off when you finally looked at the person at the front door.

Genuinely, you felt the blood drain from your face. Standing there before you with longer curls and an ease you didn’t remember. It was one Luke Castellan in the flesh.

“Hey, Hex.” 

Luke faltered, peering beyond you to the frozen form of his brother holding the tiny cleats for a child. The child in question was listening intently to Clarisse.

“Now it’s only dirty if you get caught.”

“Chris, can you take Axel into the backyard and throw the football?” You questioned, refusing to look away from the man who shouldn’t be here.

You felt the fury from Clarisse’s direction and put your hand on Luke’s chest to push him out of the house. The door closed firmly, cutting off any view of your small family and life.

“How are you here? How are you alive? Aren’t you supposed to be Kronos’ vessel?” you demanded, crossing your arms and glaring at your ex-boyfriend.

Luke pushed his hands into his jeans. “Uh, I guess you guys haven’t kept in touch with camp.”

Your lips twisted, “No. The summer you left, I decided to take a page out of your book and leave.”

You caught the wince from the man and felt the slightest twinge of guilt at his reaction, but you had a right? Didn’t you?

“Is Annabeth here?” Luke asked, trying to look in the frosted glass of your bright blue door. All Luke had for communication was Iris-messaging and letters from his little sister.

“No,” you bluntly responded and elaborated out of pity, “Annabeth and Percy live in California now.”

“No way. Annabeth would never live in California! It’s too dangerous!” Luke adamantly replied, tensing his muscles. His body language took you back to his training sessions with the younger campers.

Your brows furrowed, “Oh! Shit, no, actually, Percy went missing before the Second Giant War happened. We found him at Camp Jupiter. It’s a Roman version of Camp Half-blood.”

It was rather unsettling how easy it was to revert to your old relationship with Luke. Revealing things you probably shouldn’t.

“Roman?” Luke questioned, tilting his head to the right like he had always done with his curious nature.

“Yeah. Anyway, the lovebirds attend New Rome University there. Annabeth alternates between school and travelling between Mount Olympus, New Rome and New York for her architecture work.”

“Oh.” Luke mumbled, peering at the ground, “I guess things have really changed.”

That soured your reminiscing, “Why are you here, Luke?”

“Chiron said I should start trying to repair my friendships with everyone. Can I come in?”

You gently glanced back to your house and found Clarisse stoically staring him down, “Honestly, it’s not a good idea. Clarisse would be very interested in teaching Axel about the importance of protein and using you like a skewer as an example.”

You watched Luke stumble before dropping to sit on the porch with a devastated look.

“I don’t know what happened between you leaving and now. When Ethan or I suppose Kronos, announced your disappointment, Annabeth looked everywhere for you. What made you stop?”

It was the one question you had wondered about for years: Why did he give up his plans and his servitude to Kronos? Why did he never come back? Why did he give you up so easily?

Luke twisted to peer off into the sunset, saying, “I went home to Westport. I had prepared myself for seeing my mom because it was necessary for the next part of the plan—“

“Dipping yourself in the River Styx,” you sarcastically respond, glancing over, “Ethan’s really got a big mouth.”

Luke tugged a blade of grass from the yard and started twisting it in his fingers.

“Imagine my surprise when I see the house has been repainted, the decorations and fixtures updated, and my mother preparing a feast in the kitchen with no cookie in sight.”

Your lips stretched, happy to hear May was thriving still. You really need to get back up to visit her.

“Good for her.” You sighed, dropping to sit beside him and watch the sunset with him. I last saw her three years ago at my college convocation.”

It was silent, and when he spoke, his voice cracked, “Why couldn’t I fix her?”

“I think it’s because May was never broken like Hermes described or Apollo claimed. I won’t lie and say her mind was perfect or just needed polishing. The memories were sharp, and the splintered remnants were the hardest puzzle, but I restored it enough. When Rachel became the Oracle of Delphi and the curse was fully lifted, whatever I hadn’t been able to help May restore snapped back into place.”

You wrapped your arms around your legs and rested your chin on your knees, staring at the field. You’d intentionally bought your property with an excellent commute to the urban areas but still having privacy.

“So, is Axel yours?” Luke asked, glancing over to you. His barely concealed question amused you the most.

“No. He’s Chris and Clarisse’s son. He’s the best part of them.” You replied, “He brings out the best in them, too. Clarisse is incredibly patient with him. Don’t let her hear, but she’s softer with him.”

“Clarisse as a mother.” Luke chuckled, mimicking your position, drawing his long legs to his chest. “That I didn’t see coming.”

“Clarisse wants another one, but Chris refuses. He wants to be married first.” You sighed, shifting to stretch out your legs.

“They aren’t married yet?” Luke laughed, peering over, “I genuinely thought they’d be the first to run to city hall.”

“Chris didn’t want to be married and not have you there for him.”

The conversation petered out, leaving neither an uncomfortable nor peaceful silence. The two of you simply existed in that space.

“Do you think we’d be together if I hadn’t left?” Luke murmured after a few minutes. He had watched Chris rushing the child to the car with Clarisse clenching the keys in her fist. Chris refused to look back at Luke, and Clarisse staunchly looked away to avoid storming over to beat him up.

“I don’t know.” You were truthful, but it didn’t mean it didn’t feel like someone had shoved a fire spot rod into Luke’s stomach and churned his insides, “Maybe we would have been, but I made peace and laid that possibility to bed a while ago.”

You stood up from the porch and brushed off your pants, “There’s a cottage on the property in the forest you can crash in. Stay as long as you want. Chris and Clarisse built a house a mile further ahead.”

“Do you live here alone?” Luke asked, puzzled by the size of the house and the extensive land. It took him an hour to walk from the bus station in town to the house.

“No, I don’t. Besides the Rodriguez-La Rue family, I have taken in orphaned demigods.” You replied gently, opening the front door. Sometimes, this is the pause in the journey to one of the Camps. It was a team effort between the Hephaestus children, Vulcan’s children, some of Hecate’s children, and me to make this place as impenetrable as Camp Half-Blood.”

You left Luke on your porch, skillfully evading the disclosure of your relationship status. 

Taglist: *Please send me an inbox to be tagged

[spagheddiesquash]

i built a minecraft house today!!

photos of each room under the cut :^)

first off we have this mudroom-type thing. like, where you would take your shoes off and stuff. (i should really put something to symbolize a mat, or maybe a coat rack or little shoe shelf perhaps?)

then upon walking into the actual house part, you enter the dining area.

next to the dining area is the kitchen.

there’s also a living room with a sofa and a tv!! (ignore the PiP in the corner, i was watching youtube while building this)

of course there is a bathroom, i used white stained glass to indicate frosted windows since minecraft doesnt have frosted glass.

here is a better look at this section over here:

and beyond that little doorway is the laundry room!!

upstairs we have the bedroom. (the gray tapestries are supposed to be a mirror)

and in the next room over we have a study/library!

and finally we have what the house looks like from the back, complete with a nice little rose garden :^)

before i end this post i have a question: would any of you live in this house if it was real? id love to hear what you guys think!!!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Ash… please hurt Finn <3

Just something short and sweet for your Friday...

CW: Dehumanization, captivity, pet whump sort of, sadistic whumper

Rancher's Rest, California, January 2005

The man who used to be Finn Schneider - who even in his own thoughts more and more called himself by the nickname his captor had given him - slept as much as he could during the day.

It helped him escape the unrelenting smell of decay from the basement that seemed to seep up through the floorboards like water soaking a sponge. Sometimes Robert lit overwhelming candles, brown sugar and vanilla, oranges and cinnamon. They didn't cover the bad smells so much as join with them to create something far, far worse.

When he slept, he could stop smelling things. Sleep helped himescape the screaming he could hear, sometimes, inside his head or out of it. He wasn't always sure if there was someone alive in the basement or if he was just listening to the echoes of ghosts.

Sleep helped him forget he spent the days in a dog cage built to hold a man.

The muzzle firmly covered his jaw, mouth, and nose, with airholes to breathe but no room to speak. Even his screams were too muffled to carry far. He had stopped trying a long time ago. Easier not to.

In any case, the days passed faster if he slept through them.

So he tried.

He blinked awake at the sound of the key in the door, rolling his shoulders and shifting on the pile of folded blankets and old, flat pillows. He used to feel his heart start pounding and a cold wash of terror every time Robert came home.

Now he just felt... tired.

Robert stomped inside, humming cheerfully. Weak winter sunlight cut briefly across the floor in front of the cage, then disappeared as the door closed again. "Take your boots off, Bobby," He muttered to himself, shaking his coat from his shoulders and hanging it in the wooden rack attached to the wall by the door. "Boots off, then inside. Can't track mud in. Boots off."

Clunk clunk. The boots went onto the woven rag mat, and Finn closed his eyes.

"Shit weather all day," Robert grunted. Maybe to Finn. Maybe himself. Finn didn't know or care any longer. "Sun finally showed up but it's still mud all over the place. Landslides down south. Mudslides taking out houses, all kinds of damage out there."

He moved with flat feet in their dull socks, once white but gone gray, from the door and moving past Finn in his cage, past the basement door where only bones and barrels waited today, into the kitchen. The smell of diesel followed him like scent trails in a cartoon, settling heavy around Finn's face and making his stomach flip.

More thumping footsteps, and Finn let himself doze, vaguely aware but caring so, so little about what could happen next. It didn't matter.

Whatever it was, it would hurt.

He must have fallen asleep once more - he heard the shower shut off and the radio playing in the kitchen, afternoon news delivered by soothing voices.

-holidays give us all a chance to be generous to those we love who love reading. I want to begin my recommendations with a Christmas story about a Christmas story. Novelist Paul Auster's beautifully illustrated little tale about being commissioned by the New York Times in December of 1990 to write a Christmas story, and the surprising pleasure this brought him.

A man from the New York Times called me and asked if I would-

"All right, little Mouse," Robert said cheerfully, interrupting the soft-spoken novelist on the radio with his own rougher, raspier voice. "Work day's done. Out you come."

Finn watched him, and felt the first trickle of nerves and the cold stone of the fear he never quite overcame settling heavy in his chest. When the cage was opened, Robert using the key he wore always on a string around his neck to unlock the padlock, Finn didn't move at first.

He shook his head, just a little.

Then Robert grabbed his arm and yanked him out.

Finn grunted behind the muzzle as his head banged into a metal bar, briefly flashing white behind his eyes as he flinched. His hands scrambled for purchase along the sticky, sharp carpet fibers. Robert chuckled, enjoying the sight, and ruffled Finn's greasy, dirty hair affectionately.

Finn caught himself making a sound far too much like an animal's whimper as Robert's thumb ran over the spot where he'd hit the bar, pressing down.

"Don't be so stupid next time and it won't happen like that," Robert said, cloying and mockingly affectionate. "Stupid thing. Now come on, Mouse."

Forehead throbbing, Finn followed him - crawling on hands and knees like a dog, head down, eyes on the floor. His own breath felt loud, from within the muzzle. Humid and damp, in and out, barely getting enough fresh air. His head spun, a little.

That might just be from hunger, though.

Robert snapped his fingers and pointed to a spot on the floor near the table, and Finn shuffled hurriedly forward to sit there, legs crossed, watching him with dull eyes as he went from the cupboard to the stove, dumping some kind of beef and potato soup from a can into the pot sitting there. The gas flame flickered to life, and Finn wondered what it would take to make this house explode.

"The guys at work had this mysteries show on today," Robert said, all cheerful conversation, as he popped open a beer and took a drink, sitting in a creaking wooden kitchen chair and leaning over to undo the buckles that held Finn's muzzle on. It dropped to the floor, and Finn stared down at it.

He wanted it back.

His face felt all wrong without it.

"You were on it, did you know that?"

It took a second for the words to filter in, and then he turned to look up at Robert. He couldn't remember the words, at first. Or he knew the words but couldn't remember how to form them with his mouth. He managed, hoarsely, "I was?"

"Sure were, Mouse." Robert was in a good mood - he leaned down and put the chilly aluminum edge of the can to Finn's lips, feeding him tasteless foamy American beer cold as ice sip by sip. "Special episode on people like you, went missing in Death Valley. Not even the only German who was featured. Neat episode. Talked about this whole family that just up and vanished. They'll never find them, for sure. Nobody will find you, either, when I'm done with you. Maybe I should put you back."

Finn struggled - Robert talking tended to just move like water around him now - but he turned to look up. "Put... Put me back?"

"Yeah. Dump your bones right back in the Valley, let them find you somewhere they've looked before. Wish I had recorded it or something, could show it to you. Oh, well. Your mom's looking real rough these days."

Finn had to turn away at that, his heart twisting itself as he thought of her, afraid and alone and probably sure he was dead by now. Even if she kept looking... She was looking for bones.

Some of the beer Robert was feeding him missed when he moved, dribbled down his chin to his collarbone, making him shiver.

"Hey! Spilling beer is a capital offense in this house, you stupid piece of shit!"

Finn knew he should apologize, but his mouth wouldn't move. He thought of his car, wrecked just off the road. Bottles of water, his book of CDs, clothes and all his things. He thought of his mother sifting through looking for anything-

Anything at all-

Any sign he was alive-

Being told over and over that no one would ever find him-

"Listen to me when I'm talking to you!" Robert's voice was a deafening roar, and his foot caught Finn in the side of his head, kicking him onto the dirty tile before grabbing his hair and slamming his head down into it.

Finn cried out, instinct overriding emptiness as he scrabbled with his useless hands to try and paw Robert away.

He took a punch to the face. White light burst and pain without sound, like a star exploding inside him. He went limp. The rest of the beating hurt, sure, but at least Robert had stopped talking about his mom.

He could be grateful for that.

They'll never find you.

-

Carriozo, New Mexico, 2009

The man who was Finn Schneider was currently going by the name Bennett Collins. He laid on his back in a broken-down motel in a town no larger than his hand, staring up at the ceiling and decidedly not thinking about scorpions. He'd put his shoes up on a shelf in the closet, just in case.

His phone rang, and he groaned as he shifted onto his side, flipping it open and putting it to his ear. "We don't meet until tomorrow," He said by way of greeting.

"I know, I know. But hey, I have some good news for you." Noah's good cheer made his skin crawl, but he owed the man his life and freedom, even if he didn't know what to do with it.

"What good news?" Maybe the job was called off. That would be nice. His birthday was coming up, not that he had ever told anyone his birthday, and he had had a dim thought he might spend it with a book. If his eyes would let him read one. If his mind would focus on it and not just stare at the same sentences over and over without ever taking them in.

"They found the Germans!"

Finn waited a beat. "Noah, we have a whole country. If no one had found us before now, that would be odd."

"Not-... Okay, fine. Be that way. The Death Valley Germans, that family went missing back in the 90s? We talked about it a couple of times?"

Noah had talked. Finn had stared off into space and made noises like he was listening and tried not to think about it too much. To think about their car found off the road with flat tires and no water and emptied bottles of wine.

His own car, full of water, with no him.

His own family, his mother searching, forever-

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The motel air was stale and musty, but at least it smelled like the window unit A/C on blast and not like rotting bodies or the Death Valley sand. "Yes. What do you.meam, they found them?"

"Some hikers did. Found some bones and IDs, a friend of mine works with the local police and told me about it. That's good stuff, right?! They found them! Maybe they'll find you some day, huh?"

"You keep me moving too much for that."

"You've never asked me not to."

"I-..." Noah was right. He hadn't ever asked. He had just done the work, and not lifted his head, not looked back. What could he give anyone who had known him? A walking corpse, luckier than the other dead bodies. Maybe. He could pay them back for their love and for looking for him by giving them back a shadow that looked like their son.

"It's fine. I don't mind taking care of you. You'll be at Albuquerque tomorrow for our next job, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Good. Hey, make sure you eat some dinner tonight. I'll be here if you need anything, little Mouse."

Finn's chest went cold. "... What? What did you-"

What did you call me-

"What did you, um, say? Couldn't-... hear you."

Weight pressed down like a boot on his chest, heavy and steel-toed, pushing away air as he tried to breathe in. The air smelled like decay and lemon cleaner. His stomach flipped.

"What?" Noah paused. The pause felt too long. "Oh, I said I'm here for you. At my house."

No, you didn't.

"... Okay. I'll... I will see you tomorrow, Noah?"

"Yeah. Keep your head down. Oh, hey, you're in Carriozo, right?"

Had he told Noah that was where he would stop?

"Y-yes."

"Cool. I stayed there once. Nice diner, makes the best beef and potato soup..."

Finn hung up the phone, launched himself from the bed, and barely made it to the toilet before the nothing he had eaten all day found its way back up.

By the time he could stop, his head was throbbing, and all he wanted was to curl up in his cage in the dark. He moved on his hands and knees back to the bed in the little motel, opened his laptop where it has been charging, and typed with pointer fingers one letter at a time. Death... Valley... Germans...

Death Valley skeletons solve riddle of missing German tourists, read a headline. The letters swam like fish across his vision.

Finn laid his head down on the pillow, closing his eyes and trying to tell himself to breathe. They found them. Thirteen years but they found them. He might have smiled.

Robert had been wrong.

About that, anyway.

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp

@whumperfully @pigeonwhumps @squishablesunbeam @darkthingshappen @whumper-soot @pumpkin-spice-whump @pardonmekreature @d-cs @honey-is-mesi @whump-queen @sowhumpful

-

[thehomophobe]

Latest & Greatest Chapter 1: Moving Up in the World

"Commander (Y/N), you are to report to Commander Sylvester on the 9th floor in the conference room" A white, humanoid robot with a dark green military vest jump scares you in your office. The pencil you were using to write your report flung off your hand to God knows where your other hand clutches your heart. You turn around in your chair after you calmed yourself to respond to the robot "Alright I'll be there in a minute." The robot rolls out of your office as you grab your brown coat off the coat rack in the corner of your office and button it.

You head out of your office and see the neon cyan lights and industrial metal of the plex. As you walk along the cold shiny, floor more white bots haul storage crates filled with either food or ammo toward the east wing of the plex, mainly for storage. Passing by other commanders and bots, you head to the elevator. You wonder what Sylvester wants from you. It's a little strange since you just got out of boot camp a little over a week ago and you were still trying to figure out this place. Seriously, an underground bunker that's over 3 million square feet and 6,000,00 inches deep in the ground with amenities equipped for 1.9 million people, yeah no there's no way you can memorize this place by the back of your hand in a week. Besides, you don't want to ask a map bot for directions 'cause it embarrassing, and those guys are freaky. Not to mention, you're a lower-class commander who's never even been to the surface, no way were you being recognized by higher-ups now.

The elevator's ding snaps you out of your thoughts as you see a pristine ivory floor, bright ceiling lights, and several wooden doors with the names of other commanders. So this is where the elite commanders stay. Completely different from your office on the 5th floor, which was always smelling like garbage and the floors were  You walk to the wooden double doors, where you see a golden sign that says 'conference room'. You knock on the right door only later to be seen by a blonde-haired woman in a short, white lab coat peeking out. She opens the door fully and lets you in. At the center is a large table with a hologram of the entire plex stretching out. (If only you had this in your room).  Around it were some levitating chairs, In one of them was a lean-built, clean-shaven man in the same brown coat as yours as well as black slacks and dress shoes. "Ah (Y/N), nice for you to show up" Sylvester rises from his chair to greet you. You've known Sylvester ever since before the invasion happened. You became friends back in high school, him being involved in more military training groups and camps than you can even count. His father was a soldier, which kinda made him ride along with the whole idea. You haven't seen him until the invasion where you saw him on the big screens of the plex near the entrance.

"I didn't expect you even wanted me in the first place." You smiled.  

"Well, I didn't expect you to join the military, and yet here you are." Sylvester crossed his arms.

It's true, you were never the athletic type in school. (You have PTSD from getting hit with a baseball in the eye). You were more of a history buff, from the Byzantine Empire to WWII to the advancement of technology. Guess seeing Sylvester was alive and how androids had evolved made you believe you could join the military too. At least to see him more often than before. "I bet keeping you cooped up down here gave you a bit of cabin fever, so I asked the higher-ups to give you a mission on the surface." Your eyes widen. Finally, a mission on the surface. No more filing dumb reports about the simulation room. "Really?! Are you kidding?!" You really couldn't believe it. Sylvester smiled at your excitement. 'Course he knew you were tired of your routine. He's been mingling with the higher-ups. And surveillance is big in the plex so maybe he saw you bored out of your mind. "And I even convinced them to give you a little something extra." He turned to the corner of the room. "Vanessa will tell you more."

You look to where he was looking to see the blonde-haired woman, known now as Vanessa, in the corner of the room with her arms crossed, eyeing you. She stepped out of the shadows with a tablet in hand. "You can't be serious Sylvester, you're giving a rookie commander who probably still gets lost in here the newest F.N.A.F and let them go on the surface." "Vanessa, the bosses didn't mind me releasing the squadron early. And I trust them. All those years in the boot camp and simulation room helped them gain more experience." He's right, by now you've mastered survival techniques, first aid, and weapon handling like aiming sniper rifles and reloading rocket launchers at record speed. Vanessa huffed and eyed you again before tapping on her tablet.

"Over the past few years, F.N.A.F's were each installed with hard endoskeletons covered in hard casing and a weapon in their arms." She swipes up on the tablet to show the first-ever version of the F.N.A.F on the center hologram of the table. Four F.N.A.F's, a brown bear with a black bowtie and hat with an assault rifle for a left hand, a purple rabbit with a red bowtie and a double barrel shotgun imbed in his right arm, a yellow chicken with a cupcake with cute blue eyes and buckteeth in her right hand and a rocket launcher for a left arm, and a red fox with a hook in his right hand and a pistol for a left one. They looked pretty old and bulky, though it probably was a durability advantage against raptures on the battlefield. "Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy. These were the F.N.A.F V.1. squadron. They were resistant to bullets and tough against scratches. Sadly after a battle on the surface, they withered. The raptures mixed with the storm tore these guys apart."

Vanessa walked to the table and swiped left to show the withered androids. Their bodies are exposed with wiring. Somehow Bonnie's face was ripped off and Chica's arms were gone. "Luckily, we used their parts to create V.2 of the F.N.A.F's." She swiped left to show the next squadron. V.2 had 3 slim models of the V.1. Each had the preferred weapons, though this time it wasn't replacing an arm, they were holding them like a human. She explains how the researchers decided to have them handle weapons as humans would to see if it would be better. She also mentioned that the fourth one was mangled up badly, the fifth one went missing, and the assistants were decommissioned for being unhelpful and annoying. Then move on to V.4 because V.3 went missing on the day of their first mission. V.4 was... something. Vanessa explains that the researchers tried to see if making the androids scarier would cause the raptures to flee quickly. It wasn't until they went rogue, joined forces with the raptures, and killed their commander.

V.5 or The Sisterhood was a completely different set from the previous ones. First, it didn't exactly follow the 'bear, rabbit, chicken, fox' order, it had more androids. A human-like girl with red pigtails, rosy cheeks, and some blue eye shadow in what looks like a nutcracker. She had a red and gold musket in her hands and surrounding her were baby dolls in the same attire. There was also another tall human-like android, but she was much slimmer than the first android. She had the same Nutcracker look, but her outfit looked less stiff than the rest. On her side was a sword in a detailed sheath and surrounding her were little mannequins. The rest were just another Freddy, Foxy, and Chica variation. Vanessa said that these were shipped to us from an unknown location. And when released into the battlefield, they were the best ones they had. She couldn't believe it had to take some random person to make the perfect militant androids. 

With their inspiration came V.6. Back to the 'bear, rabbit, chicken, fox' order but with a better outer casing and better weaponry. The research team also made extra F.N.A.F's like the Mechanical Melees, which consisted of a frog, a pig, an elephant, a hippo, and another bear; AI and assisting robots like the Helpful Engineer Learning Profession Youth or HELPY for short. They were the best teams they had since the casings were durable, quick reaction speed, and overall attack power. There were some flaws and malfunctions here and there but the research team had hope. Which came with the latest version, V.7.

"Unlike the other androids, Dr. Clawthorn wanted these guys to learn like humans. So, the researchers and I gave them the bare minimum of code and threw 'em into the boot camp with people like you." She pointed to you. "After they graduated, we added more armor, customized their weapons, and..." She swiped left showing the V.7 squadron or the Glamrocks. Freddy, the bear, was given a chest plate with a detailed orange and electric blue pattern with his signature black bowtie, darker orange shoulder blades and shin guards, and a custom electric blue M16 with a small symbol of his face in the corner. Chica, the chicken, now colored white with a pink leotard with some plating on her chest and a fluffy pink sweater covering it, some lime green shin guards and gauntlets with leopard print, and a pink scrunchie tying her "feathers" up. Zooming into the hologram shows her voice box that will help with distracting the raptures as well as fry their hearing systems. She wields a pink tiny copperhead with a symbol of her face on it. The next two supposedly replace Bonnie and Foxy in the series. Montgomery Gator, (You thought he was a crocodile) has a green and more bulky version of Freddy's armor except the shin guards are lower than Freddy's, and a belt of shells is wrapped around his waist. Vanessa mentions that his glasses help block flashbangs emitted from raptures. He uses a green Beretta DT11 with the symbol of his face. Finally, Roxanne Wolf, (She's kinda hot) has a red crop top with a black star-like pattern and denim bell bottoms frayed at the edges. Same shin guards but in purple and gauntlets in bright red with black spiked bracelets and a leather jacket hanging off her right shoulder. Her eyes are heat-seeking, so she can see raptures through walls. She holding a purple MG4 with a small print of her face on it.

Each of the Glamrocks is properly equipped with the best protection and unique features on the battlefield. And you, rookie commander you, was going to lead this new squad of the Final Nation to the surface. "I can tell by your face that you're excited." You look towards Sylvester with a grin. "Are you kidding? These are-" You were at a loss for words. Vanessa thinks she found them. "State-of-the-art quality soldiers that could lead us to reclaim the surface." She said matter-of-factly. "And you better not break them." She closes the table hologram off. "They cost a fortune to build, meaning you're paying if there's even a scratch." You promise not to break these guys. "So, where are there? When can I get to meet them?" You were like a kid on Christmas. "Well, they're charging after training in the simulation room. And since it's getting late. You need a good night's sleep for your very first mission." Sylvester smiled. You thank both him and Vanessa for everything and head out the door to your office.

This was it. You're moving up in the world tonight.               

[bokutosmochi]

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE ♡ NANAMI KENTO

nanami kento x gn!reader

ingredients? "the more things change, the more they stay the same" this saying is quite true for nanami.

what's it? fluff

allergen warning/s? super minor spoilers for gojo's past arc

sugar level? 1.9k

regulars? @hanayanetwork​ @tahonet​ @tokyometronetwork​

parlor's note? this was just supposed to focus on emo!teenager nanami -> adult-but-still-listens-to-emo-music!nanami, but i got carried away a little bit. we don't know for sure if nanami gone through an emo phase, i'm only assuming this because of the haircut he has during gojo's past arc, but if he did, god i would have loved to be his friend.

bon appetit!

you mutter a small thanks when nanami takes the leather coat off of your shoulders and drapes it over the coat rack beside your front door. this was nothing out of the norm for the two of you, he was always a gentleman through and through, even back during the days you were unable to call yourselves a couple. in fact, his chivalry was one of the things that attracted you to him in the first place.

you always made sure to treat him as well as he treated you -- it's only what he deserves.

the two of you padded softly to the bedroom so you could strip off your work clothes and change into something more comfortable. less jujutsu sorcerer and work, and more home. it was quiet, the not-awkward kind, the nanami-kind of quiet. the man wasn't very talkative, after all. he did not feel the need to fill the air with meaningless chatter especially right now when he's fully aware that the both of you were tired.

you had to work a hour overtime to get rid of that patchwork-faced curse.

nevertheless, all was forgotten when you sank into the mattress of the sofa with him, a takeout menu in your hand. "so i reckon neither of us wants to cook dinner tonight. you okay with takeout?"

he hummed out a response, snuggling into the crook of your neck, basking in the warm that it provided him. "can you please order tonight, sweetheart? i'll just be getting my usual." he said, breathing in your scent. the smell your signature perfume has faded away throughout the day since you were busy, bombarded with missions and not able to spray more on during your nonexistent breaks, but nanami still thought that what lingered by the junction of your throat was something so distinctly you -- the faint scent of your fragrance, with your natural odor, and your laundry detergent. on good days, he'd even smell himself on you because of such close proximity. today is not one of those days, but he's grateful regardless.

"sure thing, kento." you replied, starting to brush through his blonde locks while you dialed the restaurant's phone number one handed. when he realized you were having some trouble with doing so, he grabbed your phone and typed it in himself. once he was done and the monotone voice of the worker came through the device, he put it on speaker and set it down on the space in front of you.

as always, ordering went by without a hitch. the only problem was the wait. you and nanami weren't starving per se, but you still worked particularly hard today. the earlier you fill your bodies with nutrition and go get some much needed sleep, the better. but there was nothing you can do except patiently wait.

a few minutes pass by and your fiancee's stomach starts rumbling. you guess he's embarrassed by the sound as he turns away and buries his face into your stomach instead. the action makes you chuckle and ruffle up his hair which he grumbles at with a low "love" escaping his pink lips.

you know how frustrated and moody he gets when hungry, so you decide to distract him for time being. "y'know kento, me and gojo were talking about you earlier." he doesn't move from his position, not holding any interest in what the white-haired sorcerer did. you were still half-sat down on the sofa with his face on top your stomach, his well-built arms wrapped around you. he was wearing a beige knitted sweater he was quite fond of yet never got the chance to wear because he was always wearing that blazer-blue-button-down-yellow-spotted-tie combo. it fit him snuggly, outlining each fiber of muscle on his body. "do you want know what we talked about?"

the answer you received was the one you expected it to. "i don't really care, darling." but he doesn't say it to tell you that he doesn't care about you and the things you get up to, instead he just trusts that you didn't say anything that he wouldn't like to be said about himself by his significant other. that didn't matter though because it's a rhetorical question and you're gonna tell him no matter what his answer was.

"we were talking about how much you've changed. how much we've all changed, but how much you've changed too." you paused. your hand was still in his hair, scratching at his scalp and occasionally running a few strands of hair between your fingers. "but to me, you haven't really changed much." you smiled down at him. it was at that moment he lifted his head from where it was prior. he didn't really know what exactly it was you're saying, but simply seeing your lips upturn made him do the same thing, mimicking your facial expression. his eyes were soft as they gazed up at you, almost in a dazed-like state. his smile was so small you could miss it, but it was still there, you're sure of it.

"you haven't stopped listening to your emo music." you gently laugh. if the sound came from someone else, he'd take it as a form of mocking, yet it's different when it's with you. it's said lovingly, honey-sweet. and what you said? he can't deny it, not when you've caught him so many times listening to bands like my chemical romance, bring me the horizon, and sleeping with sirens. usually those happen when he appears to be deep in thought, eyes closed and breathing deeply, peacefully. you sit down next to him and pluck one of the earphone buds from his ear, sticking it into your own, only to be surprised when you hear a s-p-i-r-i-t! spirit!let's hear it! s-p-i-r-i-t! spirit! let's hear it! he blushes whenever that happens, but tries his best to maintain his stoic facade. "aw, no need to be embarrassed, kento," you coo at him, kissing his cheek as you lean against his chest and pulling yourself closer to him, not minding the music at all, from what he could observe.

there are times even worse than that, times where you catch him singing those songs. now those usually happen in a variety of ways. he sings them more than he listens to them which fascinates him in a way. even when he hasn't listened to a particular song in forever, it seems as though he still has it memorized. he ponders if it's some sort of muscle memory. if he sang it so much to himself during his teen years that it's forever ingrained into the depths of his brain.

"you can drag me through hell,

if it meant i could hold your hand,

i will follow you,

cause i'm under your spell,

and you could throw me to the flames,

i will follow you,

i will follow you,"

you hear his deep, gravelly voice quietly hum in the shower.

"at the end of the world,

or the last thing i see,

you are never coming home,

never coming home,

could i?

should i?"

he'd sing, voice as soft as a whisper as he cooks breakfast for the two of you when he has a rare day off.

"coming out of my cage,

and i've been doing just fine,

gotta gotta be down because i want it all,

it started out with a kiss,

how did it end up like this?

it was only a kiss,

it was only a kiss,"

he would murmur into your hair during nights neither of you could find yourselves able to fall asleep.

"you're still as rational as you always were." you reminisced, thinking back to all the times back when you were a mere student in jujutsu tech taking on missions. while you were powerful and possessed an incredible cursed technique that many people, even those older and more experienced than you envied, there were still many times you got into some trouble, though many times it was because of satoru and suguru. the reason why you were able to escape and counter said trouble? nanami kento.

he never acted on emotion, at least when it comes to his missions. he never gets too enthusiastic to face a foe and doesn't get too carried away with the need to rescue those who were hurt either. he followed the proper procedures step-by-step. sure, to some people that might seem boring, but nanami was keen on the concept of being thorough with the things he did. it never did fail him and that fact was something that made him much more attractive in your eyes.

you and the rest of your classmates could be wounded and getting discouraged, but nanami would still stand confidently in the midst of all the chaos. he knew he was equipped with a technique that gave him the upper hand, he knew he was capable, he knew that his enemy was mortal, the same way he is. he felt no need to overthink things, make things more difficult than it actually is and just cause more anxiety for himself. what the statistics said was that he has a chance of beating this foe and that was it.

"y' still make me feel safe," you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he mutters a "hope i never stop making you feel safe." into your skin.

you let a breath out slowly, feeling it go through and exit your body. "you're the best, 'namin." you hugged him closer to you, not really knowing what else to say, how to express everything you felt into words. you've been deeply infatuated with this man for more than ten years now, how does one put all of those emotions into simple words?

"love you so fuckin' much"

you feel his lips upturning against you. no matter how many times you directed that four letter word at him, he doesn't think he'll ever get sick of it, the same way he doesn't think he'll ever get sick of you and the warm, fuzzy feeling he gets in his chest every moment he spends with you. "love you too, darling. i guess the more things change, the more they stay the same huh?"

"mhmm!" you started to smirk mischievously. you lifted his head from where it rested with one hand, his chin against your palm and squeezed gently. "i mean look at this, you're still as whipped for me as you were back when we were teenagers."

he tsked and swatted your hand away, plopping his head back down on your lap. "thought we were having a moment."

you laughed lightly at him, ruffling his hair up fondly. "don't cha worry, kento. i'm whipped for you too."

i get: reblog

you get: a blue button up

[dee-writes-smut]

GOD, PLEASE NO (Chapter One)

FEATURING Joel Miller x first-person!reader

SUMMARY it was just a normal day; coming home to your loving husband and newborn son-- until it wasn't and suddenly you had lost the other half of your soul

CONTENT WARNINGS domestic lovin', angst, death, grief, major traumatic events, end of the world

AUTHORS NOTE I don't have much to say other than buckle up ;)

SERIES MASTERLIST

The beginning of our story is a chaotic tangle of violence, harsh language, and gore. So, let's start somewhere simpler before diving into all that mess. When I look back on this time, it’s a mix of fond memories and deep sadness. These memories take me to a dark place, but to understand how I ended up where I am now, you need to know the reasons behind my actions and the person I’ve become. Maybe it sounds like I'm just making excuses for actions that can’t be excused, but you need to hear the whole truth to make your own judgment.

2013

“Ty! I’m home!” I shout as I drop my keys into the bowl by the front door, letting out a long sigh of relief. I shrug off my eggplant-colored coat and toss it onto the rack next to the door.

“Kitchen!” a strong male voice calls from the left side of the house. A smile spreads across my face as I make my way through the cozy living room and into our small, inviting kitchen. There, I find my wonderful husband stirring a pot of something that smells absolutely heavenly, all while gently bouncing our sweet seven-month-old baby on his hip.

“Aww, look at my sweet housewife,” I chuckle, dropping onto the stool in front of our tiny island with a sigh. Our home wasn't grand, but it was perfect for us and the future we were building together. The kitchen had a somewhat hideous yellow backsplash, the kind that seemed straight out of the 70s, clashing with the modern stainless steel appliances we managed to squeeze into the small space. There were two small bedrooms: one barely fit our queen-size bed, two oak side tables, and a mismatched dresser, while the other served as the nursery with a bright white crib, a rocking chair, and shelves filled with baby toys and books. As I said, small but perfect.

“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, turning to show me his beautiful, teasing smile, his eyes sparkling with humor. He’s still bouncing our baby, who giggles and reaches out for me with chubby little hands. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” I respond, feeling the weight of the day in my bones as I rise from the stool. I press a gentle kiss to Tyrone's warm, chocolate-colored skin before scooping our son into my arms. The fabric of my scrubs, stained with the day’s toil, serves as a testament to the challenges I faced at work.

“I can see that,” Tyrone chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with affection as he takes in my tired appearance. He leaves the food simmering on the stove, choosing instead to pull me close for a lingering kiss, a welcome respite from the day's hustle and bustle.

“How ‘bout you go lay on the couch with Amir? He missed his momma today,” Tyrone suggests with a warmth that melts away the exhaustion clinging to me.

I offer him a grateful smile, reciprocating with another tender kiss before making my way into the living room. With a relieved sigh, I sink into the plush cushions of our cool gray couch, the soft fabric a comforting embrace after a long day. Amir nestles into my arms, his small body radiating warmth and innocence. As I glance around our cozy living space, my heart swells with gratitude for the simple joys it holds. The walls adorned with framed photographs capture precious moments frozen in time, while shelves lined with well-loved books and toys bear witness to the life we've built together. Draped over the arm of the couch, a soft throw blanket invites me to wrap myself in its comforting embrace. It may not be the grandest of spaces, but it's filled with an abundance of love and warmth that makes it feel like home.

“Hello, my sweet boy,” I murmur tiredly, a soft smile gracing my lips as I press kisses to my son's chubby cheeks before pulling him close to my chest. Amir responds with a contented coo, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp at the gold necklace adorning my neck, each delicate link bearing his initials. As he tugs at the chain, I find myself captivated by the sight of him, noting the striking resemblance he bears to his father. The same strong nose, the beautiful dark skin that seems to glow in the soft light of the room, and the beginnings of thick black hair already sprouting on his head. His brows, bushy and expressive, draw my attention, and I can't help but adore every feature, whether inherited from Tyrone or unique to our little bundle of joy.

Yet, amidst the sea of familiar traits, I also catch glimpses of myself reflected in Amir's features. His bright blue eyes, reminiscent of the sky on a clear summer's day, hold a spark of curiosity and wonder. His lips, full and plump, part in the occasional sleepy smile, mirroring my own. And though his hair, straight and fine, contrasts with his father's curls, there's a subtle hint of my own straight, stringy locks in the way it awkwardly curls at the ends.

Lost in this quiet admiration, I'm jolted back to the present by the gentle weight of Amir's sleeping form against my chest, his soft breaths lulling me into a sense of peace. I glance up to find Tyrone standing before me, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes at the scene before him.

“Stalker,” I tease, a playful smirk dancing on my lips as I catch his eye, careful not to disturb the slumbering baby nestled against me.

“Dinner is done. I can take him so you can go eat,” Tyrone offers gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of the evening calm. I offer him a grateful smile, relinquishing our sleeping son into his capable arms. As Tyrone cradles Amir close, I take a moment to admire the scene before me—the way Amir nestles trustingly against his father’s chest, his tiny fingers curled into fists, and the way Tyrone’s expression softens as he gazes down at our child with a tender love that never fails to warm my heart.

“Hey,” I whisper, rising from the stool and crossing the kitchen to press a loving kiss to Tyrone’s thin lips. “Thank you for taking care of us.”

“Of course, it's what I'm here for,” he replies, his voice a gentle reassurance as he pulls me into a warm embrace with his unoccupied arm. I lean into his embrace, finding solace in the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest.

“I love you,” I whisper, my words a soft declaration of the love that binds us together.

“And I love you,” Tyrone responds, his voice a whisper against my hair as he tightens his hold around me, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of life’s uncertainties.

With a final kiss pressed to my forehead, Tyrone heads upstairs to put Amir to sleep, leaving me alone in the quiet kitchen. I turn my attention to the counter, where a tantalizing aroma wafts from a large bowl of shrimp glazed with what I can only assume is Tyrone’s secret spicy cream sauce. My stomach rumbles in anticipation as I take a bite, savoring the explosion of flavor that dances across my taste buds.

After finishing my meal, I make my way upstairs, shedding my dirty scrubs in favor of a soft, oversized shirt that undoubtedly belongs to Tyrone. I slip beneath the covers of our bed, nestling into the warmth of his embrace. With Tyrone’s arms wrapped securely around me, I finally allow myself to relax, the exhaustion of the day washing over me in gentle waves. As sleep claims me, I find solace in the knowledge that I am surrounded by love, my heart full and content in the embrace of my husband.

“Baby! Baby! Wake up!” A frantic voice pierces through the haze of sleep, jolting me from my dreams. I blink rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of slumber as I sit up in bed.

“Wha- Ty, what are you doing?” I mumble, my voice thick with sleep as I rub the drowsiness from my eyes. As my vision clears, I find Tyrone standing before me, a look of urgency etched on his features, our baby cradled tightly in his arms.

“We need to go, c’mon!” he urges, his grip firm as he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

“What are you talking about?” I protest, feeling a surge of confusion as I stumble towards the dresser in the corner of the room. With trembling hands, I yank open a drawer filled with an array of pants, my fingers fumbling as I hastily grab a pair of thick leggings and a pair of socks from the drawer above. I shoot Tyrone a questioning glance, waiting for him to provide an explanation amidst the chaos.

“There’s something going on, something bad, and we need to go. Everyone's freaking out, people are acting crazy, and we're not safe here. Please, honey, can you try to move a little faster?” Tyrone's voice cracks with emotion, tears welling in his eyes as he cradles our son's soft head in his arms.

Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I hasten to slip on a pair of shoes, the urgency of Tyrone's words fueling my movements. Together, we hurry downstairs, the urgency of the situation propelling us forward. I rush to the closet and retrieve the baby carrier, strapping it securely to my chest as Tyrone carefully places our wailing son inside. With trembling hands, I grab the coat I had hung on the rack just hours ago, wrapping its warmth around myself and our precious child.

Once bundled up and ready to go, we burst outside into the cool night air, the sound of keys jingling in Tyrone's hand as he runs alongside me. Without hesitation, we make a beeline for the car, our hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of our hurried footsteps.

It all unfolds in a terrifying whirlwind, each moment blurring into the next with a rapidity that leaves me reeling. The danger materializes so suddenly, so violently, that I barely have time to comprehend it before my beloved husband is sprawled on the ground, his lifeblood spilling from a savage wound as one of our neighbors descends upon him with savage ferocity.

In that harrowing instant, time seems to slow to a crawl, the world around me grinding to a halt as I stand frozen in shock. My mind struggles to process the nightmare unfolding before me, the sight of Tyrone's helpless form under the frenzied assault of our neighbor searing itself into my consciousness like a branding iron.

The piercing cries of my son shatter the eerie stillness, ripping through the air like a siren's wail and jolting me back to reality with a visceral jolt. With a surge of adrenaline, I'm propelled into action, my body moving on instinct alone as I race towards the scene of carnage, every fiber of my being screaming with a desperate urgency to protect my family.

Snatching up a rock from the ground, my fingers close around it with a vice-like grip as I charge forward, propelled by a primal scream torn from the depths of my soul. Each step reverberates with the thundering beat of my heart, the world narrowing down to a singular focus as I zero in on the woman atop my husband, her frenzied assault driving me to the brink of madness.

With a primal roar, I bring the rock crashing down upon her skull, the sickening impact sending shockwaves of horror rippling through my trembling frame. Yet even as she falls, her body limp and lifeless, I cannot stop. Tears blur my vision as I rain blow after blow upon her motionless form, the relentless barrage of violence a stark testament to the storm of grief and rage raging within me.

Amidst the chaos, Amir's cries pierce through the haze of my anguish, a haunting lament of fear and confusion that serves as a chilling reminder of the stakes at hand. In that agonizing moment, as I kneel beside the broken bodies of my loved ones, I am consumed by a primal instinct to protect, to fight back against the encroaching darkness with every fiber of my being.