#i would have added the shelves in front of him but then. he would be hidden by the shelves. so. no shelves

[asairayn]

AND MORE

once again, Panic by @thedemonsurfer / @thedemonscrawler has infected my brain. i'm losing my mind. i had to do this. i had to draw him panicking in a corner. because of course. i'm screaming. i'm screaming always.

[starfilmz]

no update for thoroughfare and famous!rafe today so here’s something. half text half smau which is actually pretty fun to do. (not proofread) part 1

you couldn’t help but giggle at sarah’s reply on your tweet but chose to close your phone as you placed it inside the pockets of your apron. as much as you hated to admit it, jj was right. adding topper to your private instagram was a bad decision, and you’ve already removed him after seeing his comment on your latest post—though you couldn’t really blame him; if it were any of your friends who said it, you would’ve accepted.

topper was a nice guy; at least you assumed he was after he gave you a fifty dollar tip last week, but you weren’t shocked when he used it as some sort of leverage to get your socials. he had his chance, and he blew it up, so it’s his own fault.

you hummed as you cleaned the sticky countertop of the bar you’re working at. you're one of the few bartenders left in the place, the last one’s desperate to stay anyway. Sip N’ Dine paid well, which is why you chose to take the job, but you weren’t aware at the time the whole reason for their generosity was because kooks like topper and his friends raided the place almost every party they host. you met topper at one of his, another reason why you complied on his request to get to know you.

the night was still young, but luckily for you and the rest of your coworkers, no kooks seemed to have any interest in partying tonight. so, you took your sweet time organizing everything around you, unaware of the new presence behind your counter.

it was only when you heard a knock against it did you turn around. you almost tripped on your own two feet when you saw who it was.

“open a tab for me, will you?” rafe cameron said, sliding the card against the table, keeping his eyes on you—specifically your slightly unbuttoned uniform, revealing the layers of necklaces you wore. and maybe a bit of your tits.

with a swallow of nothing, you gave him your usual costume service smile as you went up to your station. “alright, what can i start you with?” you asked as you grabbed for his card, keeping it under the counter in a shelf where most of the cards are kept.

“your name would be nice, just so i know who to call,” he smiled, though it was closer to a smirk as it doesn’t exactly reach his eyes.

looks like someone had a bad day.

“most people call me ‘bartender’ since, y’know, i’m the only one here,” you glanced around between the two of you, raising an eyebrow at him. was this your attempt at flirting? yes, unfortunately. “but if you’re dying to know, my name’s y/n.”

“was i that obvious?” rafe replied with the same tone, and you might just throw yourself at him if you didn’t have an ounce of shame left in your body. “alright, y/n, i’ll have a miller lite first.”

“starting of easy, i see,” you commented almost instinctively, as it was encouraged by your boss to ‘challenge’ your customers so they’d buy more. “one miller lite, comin’ right up.”

you grabbed a pint glass from behind you, as well as one of your many miller lites on the shelves, placing it down in front of rafe as you poured the alcoholic drink in.

“holler if you need anything else.” you thought it was best to keep your distance before it became too obvious how nervous you were from his piercing gaze. you took this opportunity to entertain under customers arriving.

a few minutes have passed, and you’re already dealing with a bunch of drunks trying to take you home, though they weren’t the ones making you uncomfortable.

rafe, from the time he arrived, only called for you to refill his cup. nothing more, nothing less. you also know whenever someone’s staring at you from a mile away, so it wasn’t hard to realize rafe’s still on you this whole time.

“y/n?” he called, holding on to the bottom of his empty pint glass. just as you served two more shots for a customer, you went back to him with a smile, already grabbing for the miller lite.

“you don’t have to get that,” he said from behind you, making you turn around as he took a deep breath. “i’m closing my tab.”

“right, okay,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed his card. “enjoyed your beer?”

you wondered why you even attempted to make casual conversation as you swiped his card, but it was rafe cameron for fuck’s sake. you were creeped out by his constant staring, sure, but you couldn’t help but like the attention he’s giving you.

“i did, thank you,” he hummed as you handed his card back to him, your hands brushing against his calloused ones. “it helped me while i think of why topper, the loudest guy i know, would swear to secrecy just for a pogue.”

you physically froze as he smirked at you, standing up from his seat. “honestly, i was a bit weirded out by the comments, but now that i’m looking at you,” he tiled his head, scoffing out a grin. “maybe i’ll make an exception.”

with that, he left, leaving one hundred dollars under his glass.

“oh, shit.”

[buckyalpine]

Hi!!!! I love your work and talent, you are so amazing!💗 I was wondering if you could do a light angst fic. Like bucky is a player who is just running through women, and the avenger reader has a big crush on him . She has to watch him string girls through the tower all the time and it makes her sad. Bucky's type is dark,red lip, baddie but reader is the mom of the friend group and wears pink and is super sweet and a little awkward, she is also a mutant who has like earth powers. So whenever she's happy or laughing flowers will bloom in her hair. She's so cute. Kinda like the trope: she fell first but he fell harder. And like bucky realizes that he's madly in love with our sweet baby angel reader. And the FLUFF!! 💗💗💗

Thank you, love Binks 💖

Yes. Yesyesyes. I hope you're all ready cause I sat with this piece for weeks. Jealously, Misunderstandings, love sick Bucky, idiots in love, SO MUCH ANGST AND FLUFF . Protective best friend Steve and dash of smut cause I can't help myself, its so sweet and soft and I love these two, put myself in my feelings with their spicy and sweet loving.

-

"See you later Sargent" A gorgeous woman walked by the kitchen on her way out or the tower, winking over her shoulder and blowing a kiss to the soldier who smirked at her in response. Her lipstick hadn't budged even after a night of who knows what with Bucky, her perfectly curved hips swaying along with the click of her heels.

You were busy with making breakfast, dustings of flour covering your nose and cheeks, still in your baby pink pj's, looking the total opposite of the gorgeous girl Bucky spent the night with.

"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled after the she had left, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Where do you find em'-Ow!" Tony yelped when Nat gave his ear a flick, cocking her eyebrow up in amusement.

"I'll let Pepper know you're curious-

"Nope. No. I was just admiring Terminators taste" Tony threw his hands up, swiping a hot pancake from the stack you were plating making you giggle, tiny daisies blooming around your hair "These are delicious Petal. I'll never get tired of seeing that" Tony smiled, looking at the fresh little flowers that reflected your mood, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before returning to the lab.

"Sure, admiring taste" Nat snorted while Bucky snickered, taking a seat at the kitchen island; his fluffy hair still messy from bed. You set down a plate in front of him, adding butter and some fresh strawberries on the side just the way he liked.

"Here you go Sargent" You smiled softly before getting started on cutting up more fruit for Steve and Sam who would be returning from their run soon.

"These are amazing" Bucky hummed, reaching for more; he'd never get tired of your cooking. You tried to bite back a smile while vines of baby pink roses weaved their way through your hair, matching the fuzzy feeling the soldier made you feel. The flowers were not missed by Bucky who watched you continue to flit about the kitchen like a little garden fairy, making sure everyone would have something for breakfast. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way you crawled up onto the counters like a cat to reach the highest shelves, a few knotty tendrils sneaking their way through your hair indicating your frustrations when you nearly dropped a cup.

"Do you have different flowers for different moods?" Bucky continued to watch you while you slinked off the counter, starting on a smoothie.

"Sort of? Yeah I guess" You thought to yourself, noting you'd often have yellow ones when you'd laugh, or purple ones when you were excited. You only ever got pink ones around Bucky; the only person to make you feel warm and shy and soft. You were caught off guard the first time you saw the tiny pink buds in your hair the same day you met him when you joined the team. No one else seemed to notice, too busy admiring the fact that gorgeous petals decorated your hair.

Everyone except Bucky.

The soldier was trained to notice everything.

He'd seen every type of flower adorn your hair but these ones were just around him.

"What do the little pink roses mean you're feeling?" Bucky asked, cocking his head when you looked at him like a deer in headlights.

Shit.

"It-I-happy! It means I'm happy" You stuttered out unconvincingly while Bucky hummed, cleaning off his plate before heading down to the gym, taking one last glance over his shoulder before rounding the corner.

Those tiny pink roses suited you perfectly; the human embodiment of a little fairy.

Ever since you'd joined the team, they were blessed with a full breakfast almost every morning, sometimes even dinner. Outside of your role as an Avenger, you took on a nurturing role within the team and of course that was just who you were, being so in tune with nature and naturally caring for those around you. Still, it was evident you went above and beyond just instinct when it came to taking care of others; you were very much the mom of the group. Initially Bucky found it confusing, wondering why you were so nice to everyone, always checking on their needs and being prepared for just about anything. He was so used to functioning on his own, he found it jarring when you were looking out for him too; didn't you know who he was? Why were you being nice to him?

He didn't even have it in him to give you the cold shoulder like he did with everyone else. What kind of person would he be if he was rude to the sweetest person he'd ever met. You were just so precious and sweet and you always smelled like fresh flowers and sunshine, he would've basked under your light for hours on end if you let him-

Bucky shook his head, breaking away from the train of thoughts he was having about you yet again. You didn't make sense. More specifically, him thinking of you didn't make sense. He was rough, rugged, made of muscle and metal, didn't like most people and the last time he'd been nurturing was back when he'd nurse Steve back to health more than 70 years ago.

You on the other hand were literally made of flowers, combined with soft sweetness, shy smiles and giggles. You were cute. Too cute. He had no business thinking about you, ignoring the fluttery jitter in his heart as he tossed a wink to a SHIELD agent who was training at the weights. She had joined recently, typically taking on missions which required her to go under cover in skin tight dresses and bodysuits; it was perfect for her given her tall and toned build. The woman smirked in response, biting her dark red painted lip before making her way over to him by the punching bags.

"Hey Sarge" she purred, bringing her hand up to toy with his dogtags, tugging at them suggestively, "Busy tonight?"

"We're having a movie thing" Bucky shrugged, not suggesting they had to do anything else after but if that's where the night led then-

"Hmm, I'll see you later then" She batted her lashes at him before going back to her set.

This made sense.

Casual. Sexy. Flirty.

Everything Bucky was good at and comfortable with. No feelings, no attachments. No deep, undying love he felt for a certain sweet girl on his team that he'd give his life for.

This made perfect sense.

-

You were the last to make it down to movie night after spending most of the evening prepping drinks and snacks for others. Movie nights were rare and it was even more rare for everyone to be present. You made sure there was something for each member of the team, from sour candy to chocolate, chips, cookies, tiny sandwiches and an array of drinks you'd set up on the coffee table.

You stood at the edge of the living room dressed in your warm oversized sweater and mismatched fluffy socks, nervously peering around the room for an empty space; usually you'd curl up on the two seater sofa with a thick fuzzy blanket draped over you but-

Your heart sank seeing yet another beautiful girl cuddled up next to Bucky, taking up all the space on the couch. A part of you contemplated on going back to your room; the sinking feeling in your stomach worsened seeing the new agent adjust herself until she was pressed right against the soldier. Why did you have to fall for for the person who wouldn't look at you twice. You were dressed in clothes too big and soft, a stark contrast to the matching silk lounge set she was wearing, leaving no doubt over how absolutely perfect her body was.

"Hey Petal, c'mere" Steve noticed you looking for a spot, patting he seat beside him, shifting over so you could join. You smiled at the Captain, quietly shuffling through the room, hiding into the cushions as the movie started. Your heart dropped further each time you heard the girl Bucky was with giggle, slinking around his lap while he gave her his flirty smirk. There were occasional times where flowers wouldn't bloom in your hair and this was one of them.

Steve noticed your less than enthusiastic demeanor, catching you glancing over at the brunette super soldier and his friend for the night, internally rolling his eyes at what an idiot his best friend was. He threw his arm around you, pulling you in to snuggle with him, whispering his own commentary as the movie progressed, hoping to lighten your mood.

You giggled, a few yellow flowers blossoming in your hair making Steve grin. Bucky watched carefully, a new emotion flaring in his chest as he watched bright petals fall onto your lap each time you laughed. He didn't like the new feeling that started off as warm to blazing hot, what was it he was even feeling-

Irritation? Sure a bit.

Confusion? Most certainly but not quite.

Jealously.

That's what he was feeling. He wanted to be the one who caused gorgeous tendrils of flowers to bloom, the one to make you giggle and laugh, the one who got to snuggle up with you. He was envious over how lucky Steve was, getting to cuddle up with such a soft bunny, his jealously momentarily interrupted when he took a moment to look at what you were wearing.

You looked so comfy with your warm sweater, your feet nice and toasty with your favorite socks. Bucky remembered you talking to him about them once, reading socks you'd called them.

"They're super soft and warm!" you grinned, clutching them to your chest after a trip to a book store. "I've been wanting a pair for ages. I finally caved and got them, I can't wait to put them on"

Bucky remembered chuckling to himself over how excited you'd gotten over a pair of socks, a few buds of lavender poking through your hair from how relaxed and calm they made you feel.

You looked so soft to cuddle up with like a little bear he'd hold to his chest, one that would protect him and keep him warm and safe. He wished he had a spot beside him because you would've sat where you always do and it would be him with his arm around you instead of Steve. He didn't want anything else. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between himself and the agent, her close proximity suddenly feelings much to hot. She frowned, feeling him pull back, scooting over till she was cuddled up with him again.

Great.

"Did you want me to grab you something?" Steve asked you as he reached over for some chips, popping a few into his mouth. Before you could respond, you saw the woman whisper something in Bucky's ear, winking playfully before sitting up and taking his hand, the both of them leaving the movie half way. You felt like throwing up knowing he was taking her to his bedroom though you knew you had no right to be upset. He wasn't yours and he was welcome to do as he pleased though that didn't make the pain go away.

Bucky's POV

"How about it Sarge" She moved her hand up his thigh, giving it a squeeze, not bothering to wait for the movie to finish. Bucky stared at her like a deer in headlights while she cocked her head waiting for a response. Bucky glanced over to you, his heart breaking seeing your face fall. "Bucky? Are you listening to me?"

Bucky blinked realizing he was paying attention to you, mumbling an apology before turning to the agent. He didn't know who he was fooling but it was getting embarrassing, especially when he knew Steve was glaring at him from across the room. Neither of them had to open their mouths to understand the silent conversation they were having through their eyes alone.

"You're an idiot"

"Shut up"

"You know you like her"

"I-I don't..."

"Then why do you keep glaring at me like I stole your girl punk"

"Don't worry about it"

"You better figure it out before you hurt her more"

"She likes me?"

"You're an idiot"

"Jerk"

That did it. Bucky couldn't' last another second seeing your petals fall, the flowers Steve brought all retreating away and he couldn't sworn he saw you blink back tears. He couldn't keep doing this.

"Um, yeah sure" Bucky nodded, leading the woman away, walking past the elevators and towards the compound exist instead. As soon as he'd told the new agent he just couldn't do it he ran back to the living room in hopes of finding you only to find your spot empty.

You did your best to bite down on your trembling lip but it didn't work. As soon as the first whimper slipped out, Steve hugged you softly, telling you to to go to your room. You looked at him through wet lashes, his soft blue eyes filled with understanding. You rushed straight to your room, zooming right past Bucky's hoping you wouldn't have to hear anything, curling up into a ball in your bed where you wept under the covers.

Why did you fall for him?

Bucky looked over to Steve who nodded towards the elevators that took you to your floor, the super soldier wasting no time pressing the button to the 4th floor. He was at your door as soon as the elevator dinged open, softly knocking while his stomach continued to churn.

What would you think of him.

Why didn't he just accept his feelings the second he fell in love with those pretty little pink roses?

God you probably hated him now.

Bucky nervously chewed his lip,

"Petal?" Bucky called for you, hoping you'd open the door, his his heart hammering against his chest hearing soft sniffles from the other side of the door. "Petal, can you open the door sweets?"

He heard you continue to softly cry, his body working before his mind could catch up as he let himself into your room. He hated the sight of the little ball buried under a pile of blankets, hiding away from the world with a broken heart because of him. He made his way to your bed, sitting on the edge, petting the blanket gently to let you know he was there.

"Bucky?" You shuffled some of the blanket off, surprised to see him there, what was he doing in your room? Wasn't he spending the night with the girl he'd brought? Why did he look so distraught? You sat up with concern, looking him over to see if he was hurt because why was he here with you when he should be with her?

"Did-did you need something, is everything okay?" You tried to keep you voice steady, quickly wiping away your tears and forcing a smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

"No sweet girl, everything isn't okay" Bucky whispered, smiling at your confused pout, his hand coming up to brush some of the strands of hair that were near your forehead. He let his hand linger on your cheek, wiping away your wet cheeks with his thumb before sitting closer to you. "Why were you crying"

You averted your eyes as soon as he asked the question, staring at your lap instead, playing with your fingers. Your voice was caught in your throat, shrugging as if you didn't know the answer. Bucky was surprised with himself, equally shy to actually say anything even though he wanted to pour his heart out. With others the smooth talking, the flirting, the boyish smirks came easy.

Not with you.

Not with his little fairy.

"Y/n, please" He tilted your chin to meet his puppy like eyes, hoping you'd understand how he felt without saying anything. His innocent gaze caused your cheeks to heat up, feeling his rough calloused hands touching you so softly. You bit your lip as your hair betrayed you, pink petals starting to decorate your hair.

"What do the little pink roses mean?" He whispered with hope in his voice, his heart aching with need seeing your shy smile, "Please tell me pretty girl. I- I only see them when I'm around you"

"It-it means-" you hesitated, scared this would all come crashing and burning if you told him the truth. Maybe he was just being nice, pausing his date to check on you. Or maybe-Just maybe? "I like you"

Had he not had super hearing Bucky would've missed your near silent whisper. The blush on his cheeks matched the flowers in your hair as he reached out for you, pulling you to his chest.

"C'mere my precious little petal" Bucky cooed, scooping you in his arms. You squeaked in surprised before giggling into his chest, the sound making Bucky's heart swell. "There she is" He smiled against your hair seeing little buds blooming again, the tiny pink roses he loved so much sprouting to life.

"Don't you have a date" You asked hesitantly while Bucky shook his head, holding onto you tighter.

"You should've been my date petal, m'sorry for not telling you how I felt about you earlier. I was scared"

"Scared?" You cupped his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb stroke his beard while he nodded, leaning into your touch.

"Scared I wasn't right for you. It didn't feel right falling in love with someone so precious when you're the complete opposite of me" His confession caused stray tears to slip down your cheeks while Bucky kissed them away. "But I promise, if you'd let me have you, I'd take care of you and love you with my whole heart. I promise I'd never hurt you sweets, I've fallen so hard for you, there's no one else I'd rather be with"

You couldn't help yourself, pulling him down for a kiss, giggling at the surprised squeak he let out before groaning and melting into your sweetness.

"I'm yours Jamie"

Stop here if the fluff was enough. Cause next is their sweet love making.

I know it's not part of the ask but imagine their first night together where Bucky doesn't want to over step so he doesn't make a move. He notices you being more cuddly and shy, burrowing into him when you're in his room and that's when he sees gorgeous deep red roses blooming in your hair. He knows by now how to read your mood based on your flowers but he hadn't seen this before.

"Petal?"

"What is it Buck" You look at him with wide doe eyes, hoping he doesn't feel the the heat you feel radiating through your body. You need him. It's more than just physical; you need him as close as possible in the most intimate way because you adore him so much.

"Your hair sweet girl" He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking the velvety petals making you whine from sensitivity, immediately silencing yourself from embarrassment. "What do you need love, you can tell me"

"Need you closer" You whispered, nuzzling your face into his neck where you could breathe in his cologne and a scent that was distinctly him.

"Closer how baby, you're-" It takes a moment for the pieces to click for Bucky to figure out just how much closer you need him, moving his hands to your hips, rubbing them up and down. "oh. OH. Is that all baby? Need me extra close?"

You nodded with another whine while Bucky moved you to lay against his pillows before slowly undressing you until you were both bare with nothing separating you.

"Bucky please, just-just want you" On any other night, you'd allow him to tease and toy with your body but you needed him so badly, your body throbbing, feeling more empty than ever.

"Shhh, m'here baby, it's okay, breathe for me petal, okay?" He stroked your hair while rubbing his weeping tip through your folds gathering your slick before pressing his cockhead against your entrance, "m'right here"

You both gasped at the feeling of him pushing his length inside, his movements slow until he was buried to the hilt. Your pussy quivered trying to pull him in deeper, tears welling along your lash line as he started to move, hardly pulling out, keeping his cock deep inside you.

"Look at these pretty roses" Bucky whispered against your lips as he rocked his hips, his hands laced with yours while more flowers bloomed, your legs moving to wrap tightly around his waist.

"All-all just for you Bucky" You hiccupped with pleasure between moans feeling a different level of satisfaction with him inside you. You finally felt complete as he moved faster, clinging onto him so you'd feel his full body weight lay on you. "More-I-I need more"

You'd never felt like this before, your powers starting to manifest throughout the room as you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Dark green stems crawled up the bed posts as he fucked you harder, your gorgeous floral scent sending Bucky into over drive. He was the only one who'd make you feel like this, the only person to ever get to see those dark red petals strewn across his bed.

There was something so intimate knowing no one else would ever get to see you like this, no one else would smell how sweet you were when he drove you mad with pleasure.

All the dark red roses full of love and lust just for him.

"I'll give you more pretty girl" Bucky growled, his own high licking down his spine feeling your pussy tighten around him, begging for him to keep going.

"Don't-please don't stop" you begged, clawing at his back, "I-I'm gonna-"

"Cum baby, cum for me petal, give it to me" He pleaded right back, sweat beading at his forehead, his pace growing sloppy. Your back arched off the bed as he reached to rub your sensitive bud sending your nerves into over drive. "OH BUCKY"

As soon as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock as you cried out in pleasure Bucky moaned loudly, tucking his face into your neck as he spilled into you.

"Take it love, t-take it" He stuttered, trembling as the last of his orgasm dribbled into you. He watched in awe as the deep red petals that previously covered the room disappeared into thin hair, his classic favorite little pink roses decorating your hair once more. Bucky pulled the sheets over you both, holding you to his chest while kissing your forehead at you closed your eyes.

"Sleep tight, petal"

[kurokawaia]

❛ WIFEY ❜

Himejima Gyomei X Fem!Wife!Reader

WC; 1k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: reader is a stay at home wife, suggestive near the end, i didn't rlly feel like adding any smut sorry :(

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) So I was wondering if you could make a fluffy fic (maybe with a bit of smut if your comfortable with it) with gyomei and wife! Reader on their day to day life when he's not on missions with her cooking for him and doing other wifey duties (and genya on the side so they could be a cute lil family😓😢) - @esrieddai

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Gyomei might be out on an assignment, yet you can't exactly feel the emptiness, and you are sure not going to let the silence get the better of you. You wake up pretty early, all set to make sure things roll smooth when he is away from home. Scrambling from the bed into the kitchen, the sun streams in from the morning, through the shoji screens, spilling soft light along the room.

You prepared breakfast, humming some tune to yourself as usual. When you arranged everything on the table, the kitchen door creaked open, in came Genya, who looked more gloomy than ever—something that worried you a bit. "Good morning, Genya." you welcome him with a smile, hoping he would liven up.

"Good morning," he manages the smallest of smiles in return. "I miss him already."

"I do too," you say as he sits down, gently touching his shoulder. "But we'll keep busy, and he'll be back before we know it." The two of you sit down to eat, having a quiet meal. After breakfast is done, Genya goes outside to train, saying that for Gyomei, she has to train herself harder. You clean up the kitchen, then attend to your daily tasks.

First, water the plants and weed the garden. Some colors are bright, some scents fresh, and it is a view so pretty to take away one's attention from what's going on that irks. You find yourself lost in the labor, with thoughts of Gyomei as you garden, feeling proud that he would have been, seeing everything bloom.

Now that the garden is done, move on to the inside to do some cleaning. Kneeling out of dust in the shelves and down, sweeping the floors to get at everything in its place, you were near Gyomei. Keeping everything clean kept you near Gyomei, even though he might be very far.

You spend the afternoon baking some sweets. You knew it—he loves your home sweets, so you hope that it will put a smile on his face. It's somewhat heartbreaking that Sanemi is rude towards Genya, so for the time being, while Gyomei trains Genya, you hoped that his being nearer to the two of you would give him the sense of a family.

The aroma of fresh goods baking slowly started to fill the kitchen, and you found joy in that simple action of baking, knowing Gyomei loves to eat them, and so does Genya, although he doesn't show it.

You call Genya into the house. He comes up to the kitchen all sweaty and worn out from his training, but there is a knowing, curious look in his eyes, and you can tell from the expression on his face that he can smell that you baked.

"You haven't offered any to me, yet." you say with a plateful of warm cookies as you hand him one.

"Thanks," he says, taking one and biting into it. "These are good."

"You like them?" you say as you converge and sit. "How is your training going?" "It's rough, but I'm getting stronger," he says. I want to fight Gyomei one day." "You will," you say, your voice full of conviction. "I have no doubt."

Evening begins to fall and you kick into preparing dinner. Again, the house fills with the reassuring smell of more home-cooked food. Genya helps you to lay the table and you both sit down for dinner.

No sooner do you start dishing up the food than you hear the familiar slide of the front door opening. Your heart misses a bit of a beat, and you steal a look to Genya, who already bolted from his chair.

You follow him quickly through the house to the front entrance. Gyomei stands there, waiting for them with a soft smile, filled with happiness to be back with his wife and future tsugoku.

"Gyomei!" you exclaim, feeling relieved.

You run to him, flinging your arms about his waist. He gives a soft, muffled chuckle and clasps you in warm arms. You dig your face into his chest, sucking up the familiar smell and feeling the gentle beat of his heart.

"I missed you so much," you whisper against his chest.

"And I missed you," he responds in that deep, soothing voice of his.

Genya strides up, grinning from ear to ear. "Welcome back, Gyomei.

"It's good to be back," Gyomei says, reaching down to ruffle your head with affection.

You pull back out of his reach reluctantly, though it doesn't quite dispel the insistent happiness in your heart. "Dinner's ready. Come join us."

Once the kitchen is cleaned and the home has reached a peaceful stillness once more, you and Gyomei finally find your way back to the bedroom. With your hand resting atop his, Gyomei's powerful arms enfold you, drawing you close as the two of you sit on the futon.

"It's nice to be home," he says so softly, his eyes filled with oceans of love as they gaze into your own.

"Good to be back," he murmurs, squeezing your hand.

You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, which is nice and steady. It's good to have him back, wrapped in safe arms—the familiar strength that held you and solaced you in lovely serenity, security, and warmth.

"I'm so glad you're safe," you whisper. "I'll always come back to you," he murmurs against your forehead. He tails a gentle hand across your back, that simplest of touches making your spine tingle. He tips up your chin, and his eyes meet in yours—a dark swirl that has your heart racing; deep, burning intensity. "Don't know how much I've missed you," he murmurs quietly.

His hand strays to your waist and tugs you in closer, the flush rising to your cheeks as you feel the strength of his body pressing on you in the now nonexistent distance.

"Gyomei, I missed you so much too," you say almost inaudibly, above a whisper.

His lips touch yours and linger, starting a soft, languorous kiss that quickly turns carnal and full of need. His hands stroke reverentially over your body, and with each stroke, your thoughts fill with want. You respond fluidly, your hands kneading the unyielding muscles of his back as you savor his touch.

His lips find yours, pressing them into a soft and slow kiss, which quickly changes to a deep one, full of longing. His hands slide down.

Gyomei withdrew from the kiss, kissing down your neck as his breath burned on your skin. He said, "You are everything to me," in a want-filled deep voice.

Your body ached for more of his heat as you arched into his touch. With one hand tangled in his hair, you mumbled, "Can I…?"

"You could, dear," he replied.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[reaperexe]

Bakery ♡

Summary : your bakery is struggling till one evening a cute guy steps in through the doors.

warnings : none just fluff <3

There was nothing you got out of your little bakery other than unpaid bills and reminder for deadlines of other bills. It was rough to say the least but your will to make things work out was stronger.

You knew your breads and little pastries were good, even if they didn't sell you knew from their taste and the few friends that tried them that they were good.

The big conglomerate in front of you would say otherwise though, as none of their little workers would even turn to look at your little shop across the street. They all just flocked to the little coffee shop next to you.

What was so interesting about the small place, the coffee was fine from what you had heard, nothing special.

You pull another batch of cookies out of the oven seeing the office crowd march it's way back from the coffee shop with the signature cups of coffee in their hand.

As you closed that afternoon with little to no business as usual, you were taken aback when that angelic looking man stepped into the bakery.

He walked up to the counter with a sheepish smile ordering a couple things which you quickly packed.

"Hi" he muttered softly "Hope i didn't interrupt you packing up" he says as you chuckle softly telling him it wasn't a problem.

The man seemed attractive enough to let it pass but what he uttered next made you still.

"I run the cafe next to you" He spoke smiling as if you were gonna smile back but the scowl on your face said otherwise. This was your sworn enemy.

You still threw him a fake smile and handed him his food. He pulled out a cupcake proceeding to take a bite. "This is soo good" He remarks his eyes dripping with love.

You just fake smiled before telling him how much he owed, he frowned at your hostility but still proceeded to praise your food.

It felt hurtful to be rude to him when he was being so nice as he stood there with bit of the sugary icing smeared on his upper lip.

You motioned for him to wipe it but he just tilted his head to the side with a soft "Hm?".

God you couldn't be mad at him not when he took the small tissue from your hand while smiling cheekily and wiped away the sugary icing.

"I bake too but not as good as this" He says and you couldn't tell what was more sugary his words or your cupcakes. He muttered a "I'll see you around" before turning around and leaving.

No you definitely didn't love your sworn enemy, no you didn't think about him as you fell asleep last night or when you added icing too the fresh batch of cupcakes.

Something felt different today when those robotic looking office workers didn't instantly bee line to the coffee shop, when some of them didn't instantly turn their feet back to their building.

Even weirder when their coffee clad hands pushed open the doors to your bakery, buying a good amount of baked goods which you eagerly packed.

Closing up felt better today when you had practically empty shelves but you felt disappointment when the familiar coffee shop owner walked in and frowned at the empty shelves.

"No cupcakes?" he asked before his eyes fell on the only remaining two in the tray and his eyes lit up. I smiled packing up the two for him

"I didn't know recommending you to those office guys would lead me to have no cupcakes" he spoke pouting as you froze. 'He did this?' you thought, handing him his cupcakes.

Like clockwork he took one out again biting into the sugary treat. Your eyes were stuck on him as he ate, how could someone make even a cupcake look so delicious.

Next day you found yourself making an extra batch of cupcakes just for him and saving them at the side. The smile on his face is worth the extra effort when he sees the cupcakes on the tray.

But this time he brings a cup of coffee along, handing you the small cup as he takes the cupcakes from you.

This went on for a week, your feelings growing for him with the small interactions.

You set out the tray of cupcakes you made for him expecting him to come in any minute but when the door opens a mysterious man steps in.

He walks up to the counter, his stature blocking your view of the exit, he looks at the counter before pointing at the only remaining cupcakes.

You gulp at how to explain to this scary looking man that those cupcakes were saved for a special someone who you prayed would walk in any minute.

You thank whatever god heard your prayers as you hear the door open again followed by the familiar sound of footsteps before he finally comes into view.

He glances between you and the man, your frowning distressed face enough for him to sense something is wrong as he clears his throat.

The scary man asks for the cupcake again before being cut off by him "Sorry man i already ordered those" He says smiling but his face is threatening enough.

The man doesn't take the hint as he stands there looking between the two of you.

"Leave my cupcakes and my girl alone man" He sighs crossing his arms. The scary guys eyes widen at his words, he grumbles something before walking out.

'My girl?' the words he spoke still left you in a daze but you came back to reality as he cleared his throat, you looked up at him noticing the pink hue on his cheek as he stood looking at you awakwardly.

Embarrassed you quickly packed him the remaining cupcakes as he pulled out his wallet to pay but you quickly stopped him "No no this ones from me, for saving me from that guy"

"Nonsense i still wanna pay" He says but you insist he doesn't have to, he sighs putting the wallet back in his pocket before turning back to you.

"I'll only agree if you let me take you out on a date" He says crossing his arms as he refuses to take the cupcakes from you.

Your eyes widen at his words but you nod with a small "sure" and he smiles taking the bag from you.

"You know i meant that 'my girl'' He says as he walks out of the store leaving you blushing.

[jjks1ut]

Need Help?

pairing: nanami x reader

summary:with the upcoming test you have for biology your boyfriend has quite the sly way to help you study.

cw:explicit content, edging, cockwarming, pet names, sexual tension, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, praise, teasing

a/n:here I am with some more jjk content since I've been lacking in my posting for the past few months with school and all, hope this is a read you can all enjoy as always ;)

You still can’t believe how you ended up here, but there you were nestled on Nanami’s lap at his place with his cock right there at the walls of your clenching wet pussy. There you sat with all your clothes strewn into some pile on the floor while he sat there practically half clothed giving you that ever so smug look while you mercilessly begged for his pleasure barely able to move with the tight grip he held at your waist. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

You had just left your last class for the evening on a regular Friday night, it was the perfect time to be hanging out with friends and probably even get wasted at a club or two. But, with your most recent grade in biology dropping down to a 50% you grew a little concerned with the possibility of failing the next assessment that would be just the following Monday.

‘I advise you get yourself situated with a tutor.’,was your biology teacher's last words to you as she handed out the papers on your way to leave the lecture hall.

“What an asshole”, you thought to yourself as you made your way from the train station as you texted your boyfriend furiously about your frustration with the professor’s attitude.

 ‘Omg Kento I can’t believe my professor and her damn attitude, I know I need a tutor with my grade and all but she doesn’t have to be in my ass about it :(‘.  You texted him and like always you could already see he had read the message and was ready to respond in a matter of seconds.

‘Your grade? Are you failing a class?’, he had texted you, and you could already feel the overbearing concern from his side.

It had been known from the start of your relationship but your boyfriend Kento Nanami was a nerd, almost like the ones in movies. Constantly studying, always in the library, and you could never catch this man with a late assignment. Even if he was practically on his deathbed he would make sure he turned in that one history essay. 

And funny enough the way you two first met had been through him as your tutor in the first place when through enough sessions together you found yourselves in a heated make our session somewhere buried in the back shelves of the college’s library.

‘It’s nothing, it's just a simple 50%. The semester only started so by my next exam I should be able to fix it’, you texted back trying to make excuses for your poor scores, but you knew Kento wasn’t there for that bull where you would constantly procrastinate. 

As a new message flew into your inbox.

‘Cancel any plans you have, you're coming over to my place later to study’, he had texted back. 

‘Take a nap or whatever you need to do, I want you over before 7’, Nanami added as well. It was a strange request that even made you a little frustrated at how he was trying to order you around. 

Even so, you always enjoyed a good time at your boyfriend’s place. And, who knows, probably you’ll get something out of it by the end of the night ;).

So there you were just having woken up from a nap an hour prior as you began to get yourself ready. Luckily, you didn’t mind coming over either as you two lived just a block or two away as in just a matter of minutes you were already in front of his door ringing his bell.

“Hey”, he gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss on the cheek. 

He may have been strict when it came to work and how he felt about grades but he wasn’t an asshole. He cared about you to the fullest extent he could at the end of the day

So As Kento was helping you with your jacket, put it in some closet nearby you could see he was clearly serious about studying. There across his coffee table in his living room was filled with worksheets, and even some books on the subject of biology. “Oh you meant actual studying?”, you whispered under your breath not even realizing he heard you. 

“What did you think we were doing?”. He questioned taking a quick look over his shoulder as he was bringing you two drinks back over to the coffee table as he made himself comfortable next to you.

“No nothing Nanami”, you laughed softly which coaxed a small smile as well from his previously stern expression. “Well, have some liquids in your system I know we’re gonna be doing a lot of talking”, he jokes back as he hands you your drink. 

“Oh shut up”, you teased back but taking the beverage even so.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“Nanamiii, can we go on break.”, you whined to him as you dropped your pencil on the coffee table sitting back to give Nanami your best puppy dog eyes. You were sitting beside him on the couch only an hour and a few minutes into the study sesh yet already on your 10th break. But come on it wasn’t your fault when your hot ass boyfriend was right beside you watching you keenly as you worked. Like how the fuck were you supposed to focus when all that fogged your mind was thoughts of him.

From the way his well manicured yet veiny hands ran over your workbook reading over your work. The way he would constantly reassure you as his fingers ran long and languid movements along your spine bringing an ache to your core.

All these actions left you with nothing but scenarios of him fucking you from behind right there on that couch, kissing down your neck as his hands ran along your thighs, anything would make you calmer if it wasn’t for how handsome Nanami was even minding his own business.

“Are you listening?”, he called out as his palm was over your thigh, pinching it softly to catch your attention. You could see on his face he was slightly worried but a bit of annoyance lied in his face as well.  “It’s only been an hour since we started and at least 80% was spent on these breaks”, he frowned.

It killed you to see Nanami this way  when the last thing you wanted to do was piss him off. “I'm sorry it’s just I can’t focus alright? From the worksheets to the flashcards, do you have any other methods?” You spoke up as you watched a small grin form on his face and even a suspicious bulge peeking from the zipper at his pants.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

So there it finally was as Nanami’s cock was buried deep within the brim of your walls. “So remind me what the calvin cycle is, hm?”Nanami whispered low as his finger took a casual flick at your aching clit that was begging for his touch as he continued to edge you even so.

“N- Namai?, please you know I-,” you whimper. This had been going on for a third of an hour or so. Nanami would ask you a question from your study sheet he had set up for you  and you would answer. simple, right?

And without you even being able to finish your sentence another firm slap landed on your bare ass as he had slipped off your pants from earlier. 

“Wrong”, he spoke cockily. You knew your boyfriend was more experienced then he put on, as even during your first time together you never expected all that he had done that night. But what was happening here was nothing compared to the original Nanami you saw in this bedroom. Usually he was such a caring lover as he catered to all your possible needs during your passionate nights. 

Now a contrast was brought as Nanami was showing pure dominance not taking any of your whiny pleads as he brought another snap that you had mewling his name like a bitch in heat.

“Don’t act like you don’t like this, either way you better prepare yourself because until you can remember this entire sheet we’re gonna keep at this” he continued on forcing you to look right at him as if tears weren’t rolling right off your pretty little eyes. With his words you nodded as he gladly wiped your tears with a small comforting smile, “Good girl”.

“So tell me what's binary fission?”, he now asked as you tried your best even in your fuzzy thoughts brimmed with the feeling of Nanami’s member throbbing from inside you. “Um, does it have to do with things with a single cell”, you huffed out as you could already feel the way your legs shaked and quivered as you tried to hold yourself up with the firm grip he held at your waist, and you could already feel your eyelids grow heavy just the same.

Yet Nanami notices quickly moves his hands to your hips and pushes you up, so that you're around halfway down on his cock. you let out a small shudder, and you can tell your almost there just is not correct yet. “And, what else”, he spoke as he pulled your face in close with a firm grip on your scalp.

“Reproducing”, you answer immediately and almost just as fast you're rewarded. Nanami allows you to ride him again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your boyfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. And the entire time you watch as he eyes your eager appearance as he pulls you in from that pull he had on the back of your head for a sloppy and heeded kiss.

“Nanami~, I want more-”, you whimpered as you grinded up against him eagerly but the moment was quickly stopped as he grabbed at your hips again and brought a slap down on your ass once more. “Fuck-, just answer the next question and we can finish for tonight”, he groaned close to letting you keep up with your grind on his cock. 

Nanami knew this was supposed to be a sort of punishment for your lack of focus but your pretty face ever so ruined by the smear of your runny makeup, your perfect bare body out in the open for him to use as he pleased, at this point fuck the work he wanted you right over this coffee table fuckong your brains out. 

“Tell me what a cell is.”, he asked, simply giving you a confused look. “But, Nanami, that's not on the-”. Quietly your words are shut down with another smack as you whimper at the slam against your rear.

“Just answer the fuckin question”, he practically begged you, so once you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of the answer Nanami can’t even care if its right.

From there you’re bent over the coffee table as your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out your dumbfounded words of pleasure.

:)

“We should study like this more often”, he chuckles as you curled up against his chest as you were watching some stupid movie on the tv in front of you two. 

“I bet you remember way more now.” 

[nekomanager]

.—001 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡ {𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐄𝐈}

one of TSUKISHIMA's university goals is to ruin the sassy student librarian and break all her rules; by the way, it's you

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, rivals to lovers, library sex, pussy eating, bantering (a repost from more than a year ago) PART ONE - TWO

University wasn’t easy especially when you also have library duties part-time and that one day with a classmate from Literature class made it even complicated.

Tsukishima Kei, a wallflower during lectures, handed you a book for return. You scanned the barcode. “Overdue, I didn’t see that from you.” He’s responsible, uptight and by-the-book. It seemed impossible.

Though you meant nothing, he didn’t feel quite right with your comment. “So what? Are you the librarian now?” He sharply replied, scanning the payment QR Code with his phone.

That just rubbed you the wrong way either. “Yes, I am.”

A smirk appeared on his face. “As far as I’m concerned,” he leaned forward over the desk and whispered mockingly, “You’re just a student assistant here.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath of patience. With a stiff smile, you professionally reverted back, “Your business is already finish now, Tsukishima-san. You may now go. If you wish to stay, I advise that you remain quiet before I ask you to leave the hall.”

Tsukishima just shot daggers at you, pinning you with his eyes before he turned around and went his own way.

Ha! The slight victory made you grin and gave you the confidence to add another greeting his way, “See you in class, Tsukishima-san.”

See you in class, indeed. After that encounter in the library, it was as if he suddenly became active in recitation. Tsukishima constantly opposed your views every time you shared them in class. It had been weeks, no, months since it was the case. You even heard your classmate picking their sides, placing their bets on who between you and Tsukishima would win the day’s lecture.

And everytime he’d visit the library, he’d return and borrow tons of books at the same time as if he was pissing you off. You were sure as hell that he was doing it on purpose and that he’s timing it perfectly to when you were the one in the desk duty.

You rolled your eyes. Just when you were thinking of how much he annoyed the shit out of you, you saw him reading a book in one of the long tables. Guess what? He grabbed a mountain pile of books. You wouldn’t be shocked if he would place that in the returning cart any moment now since you’re the one in the clearing duty.

You leered, intentionally choosing the aisle near his table and giving him a dirty side eye as you passed by him. You knew he picked that up and just as you predicted, he placed the piles of book in the cart right when you were about to push it off. There were only 2 books in there but when Tsukishima dumped his stuff, there were like about 8 now. Looking at the call numbers, the books were even shelved in the farthest back of the hall.

Asshole! You grimaced at him and he grinned evilly at you. Begrudgingly, you headed to the very last shelf where Tsukishima got his books. You placed some of them back in until you realized that most of what he picked were too high for you to reach.

“You need help?” Tsukishima said with a smug expression as he returned a book in his hand at the top shelf only he could reach.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped.

“Returning a book. I forgot to place it in the cart.” You scoffed and he added, “You would find it hard to shelf it anyway.” His lips etched in a mocking smile as he eyed the remaining books in your cart.

Scoffing, you kicked a ladder in front you. “I was just starting.” You picked up some of the books, stepped into the third level of the ladder and shelved them. Halfway though, you felt his eyes on you. Your gaze traveled to where he was looking and you noticed that your skirt rode up, revealing your garter belt.

“Pervert,” you reprimanded him and went down the ladder.

He immediately snapped away. “Who wears that in school?” Okay, he must admit it’s not the best comeback ever.

What? It’s not like you were wearing anything scandalous. It was just a simple pencil skirt and it’s unintentional that it rode up your thighs. “That doesn’t mean you should look, asshole.”

He huffed and rebutted, “As if there’s something to look at.”“Then why are you looking?” You said, walking past him and pushing a book back in the shelf harder than you intended.

You were surprised when you were grabbed by your elbow, pulling you away from the books that fell from above you.

“Careful,” he warned. Your gazes held each other. His eyes were now filled with concern. Genuine concern. You gulped as you heard your heart beat in your chest. You would be lying if you’d say his rebuttals in class made him less sexy. In fact, it made his snarky ass more attractive.

He scanned you from head to toe. Your clothes bothered him a lot, pulling off that sexy librarian look that never failed to give him fantasies every night.

“You only wear that kind of attire every Thursday.” He chided in as if catching you. In return, you stepped backward, feeling cornered by his height and inquisition.

“Why are you here only every Thursday?” You dared as he stepped forward closing you in. Your back hit the shelf as he towered over you. His eyes studied your pretty lashes and hopeful, needy, eyes. Yours probed his orbs, now showing vulnerability near your presence, losing control over his urges.

You wanted to push him away, but you also wanted him to pull you close. With how petty you acted around each other, he might just laugh at you in complete rejection. You poor little midget was actually attracted to him all this time. You’re hopeless and horny for him, it’s pathetic.

He was equally pathetic too. He couldn’t resist his bulging cock as he saw your lacy bra underneath that long-sleeved dress shirt you wore. And that sassy mouth of yours…the things he wanted to do whenever you open them to spit another off-handed comment his way. Fuck! Just fuck!

You were both breathing heavily and you noticed the way your chest rose and fell against him. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling heat in between. It was unbearable. You needed more. You couldn’t take it anymore and so was he when he smashed his lips against yours. Your mouth opened willingly and his tongue didn’t hesitate to explore. Your hand flew to his head, lacing your fingers around his strands. His hands roamed all over your body not getting enough of you.

He bit your lower-lip, smirking against it as he had been desiring to do that ever since you got into his head. You moaned and it gave him confidence to tease you, running a hand under your skirt and lightly tracing the edge of your stockings. He caressed your thigh and you leaned your head back as his fingers began reaching your pussy.

Tsukishima groaned. “You're so inappropriate.”

You moaned in a begging tone.

He smiled, disbelieving that the smartass Y/N whom he thought hated his guts with all her life was now begging him for more and that prompted all forms of logical reasoning to leave his brain.

He picked up a book from the clearing cart and pressed it against your pussy, rubbing the hard corner against where he thought your clit was to give you pleasure. “Oh, god…” You breathed out. It felt too good. You couldn’t help but hold his wrist with both of your hands, guiding him to the right pressure and tempo as you rocked your hips, using the book for stimulation.

“I never thought you love books this much.” He teased.

You scoffed. “What can I do? Mhmn~“ You panted. “This is all you got.”

A different surge of pride came over him after that sassy remark, which made him drop the book and had him on his knees. He pulled your skirt up and your panties down, inhaling deeply as he came face to face with your sopping wet cunt. His thumb massaged your slit before hooking your leg over his shoulder and digging in to eat you out.

Come to think of it, the signages said, Strictly No Eating, but it’s too late now. He was already overcome with lust and the taste of your delicious pussy so soft against his lips and tongue. He circled against your clit while sipping your arousal. You bit the back of your hand trying to cover your noises. Tsukki pictured the big Remain Quiet library sign in his head. Yes, he’s gonna have you break all the fucking library rules. He’d make sure you’d be making all sorts of noises in a while.

“Please…please..” You heaved, leaning your head back on the shelf as you grabbed a fistful of his strands and rode his face. His glasses now misty with the heat of your pussy and his breathing. His tongue started lapping rapidly.

You were losing your mind already and you could feel your orgasm approaching. Tsukki knew that, but he wasn’t done with you yet not until he's inches deep inside you and his dick was the only thing in your mind. The perfect payback for all the sleepless nights you gave him with nothing but desires on how your pussy would fucking feel, clenching him tight.

He pulled back and you whined a complain. You should’ve known he’d do this right when you were aching and desperate for him.

Cupping your cheek, he drew your lips in for a kiss. You melt like you were pleading more of him in your arms. Feeling his erection rubbing against your stomach, you broke the kiss and looked down at his pants. Involuntarily, you licked your lips at the sight of his hard-on. “Looks like you need a hand.”

—♡ send 💦 if you want to be tagged in PART 2

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[lina-linny]

summary: On a cozy evening, your boyfriend chan asks you if he can do your nail design.

words: 0,9k

genre: fluff

Everything was quiet. The gentle smell of autumn rain drifted in through the window and created a pleasant atmosphere. Several candles burned on the shelves and tables, adding to the relaxed ambience with the faint light they cast on the living room. Yn sat on the large couch, snuggled up in the huge blanket embroidered with little wolves. Two years ago, Yn had embroidered this blanket herself as a birthday present for her boyfriend Chan. Since then, it has been an integral part of his luggage. Whether he was going on a world tour or just a short trip to japan, the blanket would always be with him.

Yn snuggled tighter into the blanket and took a sip of her tea. The constant use from chris made the blanket smell of his perfume and gave yn a pleasantly warm feeling in her stomach.

She carefully placed her hot tea on the living room table and grabbed her little nail polish bag, ready to do her manicure. But she was interrupted by the dusted sound of the front door opening. Confused, she looked up to directly see into the face of her smiling boyfriend.

"Wow, you're early today. No night shift in the studio with Ji and bin?" He just giggled.

"No, tonight I belong to my wonderful girlfriend." She had to smile, while her boyfriend stowed away his backpack and laptop, she carefully trimmed her nail hat. Shortly afterwards, Chan dropped onto the sofa next to her and crawled under the covers with her. He gently put his arm around yn's shoulders. The natural warmth that her boyfriend radiated made her even warmer and she let herself be pulled further into Chan's embrace.

"is my pretty girl doing her nails?" Yn giggled as she fiddled with the nail file and replied with a small nod. While she carefully filed her nails, Yn intertwined her legs with Chan's.

"Do you already know what kind of nail design you want?" Chris asked with interest as he followed her every move closely.

"No idea yet... I'm kind of lacking creativity today. Any suggestions?" Chan nipped at his lower lip while he seemed to be thinking.

"Would you let me try to do your nails?" he asked cautiously and yn nodded at him, grinning broadly.

"Wow, I think I'll have to rip off my nails and sell them. I'm sure stays would pay me a few hundred thousand." She laughed while he just shook his head with a grin.

"I'd be happy if you did my nails. Just let me apply the base coat." Chan watched his girlfriend patiently as she carefully painted her nails with the clear nail polish and then slowly let them dry.

"Here, my nails are all yours! Let off steam." She held out her hands to him expectantly and wiggled her fingers impatiently to symbolize that she was finally getting started. Slowly, Chan pulled the small box with the various bottles of nail polish and nail design pens closer to him. He rummaged around in it and pulled out a bottle of black paint and a white pen. Yn let her attention wander back to the movie playing on the TV.

Chan carefully and neatly painted all her fingers an even shade of black. When he had finished and it was time for the nails to dry, he snuggled up to his princess again. He carefully buried his face in the crook of her neck, which made her giggle. He briefly inhaled her scent and then began to spread small kisses over her neck and cheek until he finally placed a long and loving kiss on her lips with a grin. When he broke away, yn looked at him in love. A wide, happy smile had spread across both their faces. There was nothing yn liked better than such quiet and relaxed evenings with her boyfriend, when they knew how the other was feeling even without many words.

"I think my nails are dry, chanie!" She wiggled her fingers expectantly again. Chan laughed and grabbed the white nail art pen, with which he hesitantly drew curved flames and a small moon on her ring finger. He was so focused on his work that he didn't notice his girlfriend staring lovingly at him. Chan's face was wrinkled with concentrated tension and his tongue protruded from between his lips, so determined was he not to ruin the design with a wrong line.

When Chan was finished, both lovers looked closely at the finished work. Grinning, she gave Chan a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. I love the design, it looks cool. Gives real rockstar vibes, doesn't it. Just make sure I don't steal your role as a world star. with stylish nails like these, everyone will love me and then stry kids will be out of a job in no time." She laughed, earning a chuckle and a teasing poke in the side from Chan. Slowly she crawled onto his lap, always careful not to ruin her fresh nail design. She tenderly caressed Chan's face with her hands, which she had placed on his cheeks, and closed the distance between their lips. Just before they touched, she whispered:

"seriously, thank you so much chanie. I really like the design." The kiss was brief but full of love, and Chan figured he wouldn't mind doing her nails more if that was the reward.

[fraugwinska]

Could you do a backstory to Hard Day? Like, how Al decided to give up control, and the first time it happened 🥺🙏

Ummm... well, I may have gotten myself a bit lost in this one :D Idk, It's gotten quite out of hand, 2,5 k words... but...um yeah :D Praying you like it :> Attention - we cook with Chili, not salt today! (MDNI)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hardest Day

„That's so unrealistic! I mean, in what world would a lion eat bugs instead of the fucking fat juicy PIG?!“

„It's a kids movie, asshole, shut up!“

The gang was sprawled out in front of the TV, blankets and popcorn everywhere. Charlie got her hands on a rare copy of 'The Lion King', and invited everyone to a 'nice, unproblematic, quiet' movie night. She didn't account for Angel's constant commentary, Husk's annoyed retorts to him or Niffty's gleeful giggling at the most unfitting scenes. Vaggie, frustrated by them, started adding to the chaos, sending scolding remarks in intervals at either of them, while Charlie tried to mediate in between songs – which she always sang along with.

You, however, were highly entertained – even though you didn't catch anything from the movie, just watching them was amusing enough. The only one missing was Alastor, who had 'business to attend' and was gone since breakfast ended.

He would've hated it anyway, you knew he had no interest in movies, let alone modern ones, and group activities like these were often straining on his patience. Although getting in the hotel last, you were the one who grew the closest to him. Why? You couldn't say definitively. Maybe it was because you never took his veiled jabs by heart. Maybe because you didn't treat him the way the others wanted you to – with care, with ignorance, with suspicion; but instead with respect, an open mind and without judgment. Maybe it was because you could challenge him – discussions about books you both read could last hours, with points given to either side equally – no winner, no loser, both richer.

You liked Alastor. Really liked him. You also had a silly, little crush on him, for a while now, but you kept that to yourself, nothing going further than a few flirtatious moments 'in good fun', calling each other 'doe' and 'buck' with a laugh. A joke between friends. Friendship, you decided, was enough for you, if it was for him.

The entrance doors slammed suddenly, making you all jump in your seats. Alastor stood at the door, looking... different. Stressed? You cocked a brow when you saw his eye twitch, while he sauntered over to the group.

„Al, do you want to join us? We're watching a movie!“, Charlie said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to the scene of 'Can you feel the love tonight'.

Alastor gave the TV set a judgmental smile and waved his hand. „Tempting, but it has been a rather hard day, I'll just take a drink and retreat to my room, dear.“ He left the group and went to the bar, your pair of eyes the only one following him. Something was NOT right. His smile was tight, his eyes wider than usual, his movements almost jagged instead of fluid. Niffty had jumped to the bar too, insisting on helping Alastor by retrieving a glass for his whiskey from one the higher shelves. In her eagerness to climb and get it, she didn't watch her steps careful enough, resulting in a few delicate wine glasses sliding from the shelfves and breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. Alastor's reaction was as unexpected as it was worrying – he always had a soft spot for Niffty, laughing over her antics and chaotic energy, often encouraging her even to produce more mayhem. This time, however, he started to scold the maid, who blinked at him with a big, guilty eye and trembling lips.

„Such indignation, really Niffty. Clean the shards at once, and try not to remain to be such a clumsy clot.“, he almost hissed, grabbing the bottle and a simple crystal glass before striding away hastily. Your eyes followed his figure until he turned the corner to the staircase, then you got up and comforted the little demon, helping her sweeping up the glass pieces while she sniffeled tears away.

You let your gaze swipe over the group, completely ignorant about what happened with Niffty, and Alastor. Ignorant of the blatantly obvious bad mood of the deer demon.

Turning to Charlie, you whispered to her that you had a headache and would be going to bed, to which she just nodded. No one acknowledged your leave, all eyes on the screen and still bickering noisily. A bunch of friends, you are, you thought annoyed with a shaking head.

Three flights of stairs later, you reached Alastor's room. You pressed your ear to the door, and heard dull bangs, like something was thrown, and a muffled voice. You knocked, and the room instantly stilled.

„Alastor, it's me.“, you said loudly, brows furrowed. „Are you okay?“

A few seconds of silence. „I'm just fine and dandy my dear.“

You put one hand on the door. He normally would open it, to speak with you directly, face uncomfortably close to face, just the way he liked it. But it stayed close.

„You didn't look fine.“, you stated. You were ever so stubborn.

„Well, I am fine. Now shoo, darling, good night.“

You stood in front of the wooden divider, contemplating. You could just go. Leave him be, wait until tomorrow. See if he would talk to you then. But then, there was your gut. And it told you Alastor wasn't well. And that just didn't sit right with you.

„Alastor. Please, let me in.“

No response, just hint of the prickling feeling of static electricity on your skin.

„I know something is bothering you, and I'm worried.“

No response. You breathe in and out.

„I'm not going anywhere until you open the...“

The door flew open, a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you into the room, violently. You stumbled and fell against a bookshelf, catching the fall with your hands to keep you upright. You heard a slam and a click – door closed, door locked. The static was everywhere now, flushing in waves over your body. You turned around -

Alastor was pacing like a wounded animal, he seemed fluffed up, as if every hair on his body had decided to stand up. His scleras were dark pits, blackest black, and in it his irises burned angrily in crimson flames, now focusing solely on you. The prey.

„So you came to test my patience too, dear?“, he snarled, his voice so distorted it ached in your ears. „It's not enough that that waste of cables destroyed two of my radio towers. Not enough that dozens of my most profitable souls have been rendered useless by an angelic bomb. Not enough that I not only had to put the disgraceful flat screened wretch back in his place, but also his vulgar boy toy and their brazen, attention-seeking brat.“

He grew in size as he ranted, you watched him reaching the ceiling, antlers scraping along the walls. „I manage my weakening territories, manage these imbeciles who think they can play overlords, I manage this sad excuse of a hotel, I manage the princess's unattainable ideas, and now, I also need to manage you, too, of all people? What a disappointm...“

„Stop.“

You held up a hand. Alastor growled, fluffing up even more, limbs cracking and static popping. „How dare y...“

„Stop.“, you said again. Your tone was calm, void of anger, or fear, neutral and steady. He stared at you, and you held his gaze. „Breathe, Alastor.“

You saw him fighting with himself. He fought against his instinct to oppose, to command, to put you into your place, to rip you apart. His elongated claws scraped over the floor, ripping deep ridges in the wood.

„Breathe.“, you repeated, firmer this time.

Slowly, gradually, Alastor shrunk. Breathed. Crumbled. Until he was back to his usual size and form, only with an exhausted expression.

You studied him – you've never seen him like that. He never allowed anyone to see him as something other than 'the radio demon': Powerful, unshakeable, quick on his feet and always one step ahead. How exhausting it must be. To always have the control also meant to always carry responsibility, to always fear impending failure.

Your heart whispered to you, and you followed it's advice. It could be the most stupid thing you could do, but you decided to do it anyway.

„Come here, Alastor.“

He looked at you, unsure, suspicious. You sounded commanding, but not harsh. Inviting. Like a hand, reached out to someone trapped. For a moment, you almost thought you ruined everything – his eyes left yours, they fell to the ground as he shifted on his feet.

But then – steps. Coming closer. Stopping right in front of you. And suddenly..

His head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear.

„Sometimes I'm so sick of it all. Sick of maneuvering, sick of ruling, governing, planning...“

You touched his neck, he let you, caressing the soft skin, heated from his outburst, trembling slightly at the contact. It was intimate, baring this vulnerable part to you. You heart broke for him.

He pulled himself away from you, searching for your eyes. Finding them again, he took your hand, bringing it up to his face, guiding your fingers over his lips. He just said one word.

„Please.“

So much was said with this please. You heard every message. Giving up control, just for a bit, just with something he didn't care enough about to insist on ruling, could be a small bit of freedom. Letting himself be guided instead of leading.

“Kneel down, Alastor.”

His ears pressed flat against his head, but he did as he was told. He couldn't look you in the eyes. For once, you were the one towering over him. You took his face in your hands, pulling it so he looked up to you, seeing your warm smile before your lips met his.

His breath hitched, stuck somewhere in his throat.

You slid one hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the other caressing his cheek as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Slowly, the rigidity melted away, he started to shift, lips no longer stiff but soft and molding against your own.

He tried to stand up, but you pushed him down, gently, definitively.

“Trust me to guide you, buck.”

He breathed, one, two, three times, eyes closed, grin tight.

“Yes, doe.”

Your own excitement took a back seat. You were filled with pure energy at the thought of crossing the line with him, having Alastor in a way you only dreamed about, convinced your relationship would never come this far. But. But this was not about you, for now. Maybe, another time. If another time ever came.

You lowered yourself on him, straddling him, so you were still 'taller', and rejoined your lips. You took his hands and set them on your hips, let them rest there while you buried yours in his hair, tugging lightly to bend his head back. His initial resistance lessened, and he gave in, exposing his throat, gray skin peeking out of his high collar. You let your mouth travel to his jawline, down to the small patch of delicate, thin skin, right next to his jugular. You felt him tense, felt his rising urge to protect himself from your potential strike. You let out a soft hum as you started to lick it, sucking gently, just a bit, just to make him shiver at the sensation. And how he did.

A moan, low and sweet like the strumming of a cello, escaped him, his hands crushing your hips by the force of his grip. It hurt, but you decided to ignore it. Little steps.

“Can you take more, good boy?”

His eyes snapped open, burning furiously. You met them with calmness, with a soft matter-of-fact-ness. Not smug, not mocking. A question. Proceed or Stop?

Alastor swallowed hot saliva. You could see he was getting overwhelmed, overstimulated, and yet, he had such a longing in his eyes, such desperation.

“Yes.”

One simple word. One spark, setting your body on fire. You tried to force your trembling fingers to steady, lifting yourself slightly off him to open his trousers. With every button, his breaths grew heavier, his grip on your legs grew tighter, claws already digging in your skin and drawing blood.

“Careful, buck. I'll need these in a moment.”, you said, placing both hands on his chest, pushing him flat on his back on the ground. He let you go, arms falling useless next to him.

You leaned forward, thanking any deity that would listen you decided to wear a skirt today, and placed a hand on his growing bulge. He hissed at the touch, cracking the floor as his fingers clawed into the wood of the floor instead your fleshy legs.

Freed from it's cage, Alastor's dick was already dripping with beads of precum, a sight to behold. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth and bloodflow, it twitched in your hand. You stroke him, eliciting the most sinful noises from the demon under you.

You took a deep breath. One more, one question more, to make sure that he wanted it.

“Look at me, Alastor.”

He sat up on his elbows, looking more helpless than you've ever imagined he could. Even his smile wavered, threatening to break. You were looking for any signs of hesitation, disgust, resistance, regret. You only found desire. A want, a need, almost pleading eyes.

Your free hand pushed your panty away, enough to expose your lips, and you lowered yourself onto him, his length slowly entering you. He was big, you were tight. A bittersweet combination. Sparks flew before your eyes as he stretched you, but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

They were blown wide, returned to black, but the irises now flickering into dials, turning, left to right as he groaned. You moved, guiding your hips up and down, feeling yourself molding to his shape in the most delectable way, and getting drunk off the look on his face.

You increased the pace on which you pushed yourself on him, adding a little tilt of your hips to take him even deeper. His voice was reduced to a static-y mess, hums and groans and moans bleeding into each other. You placed both of your hands on his chest for more support, inevitably pinning him down. His hands flew to yours, threatening to push them off him, but instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, panting heavily.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pressure, unbearable and urgent, his release approaching at godspeed.

“Doe, I can't...”

Panic in his tone. He tried to put his hands on your waist to pull you off. You understood immediately – an upbringing in conservative times, decades of living by the rules of a gentleman, he was resisting against the thought of cumming inside you. You pushed his hands away.

“Yes, you can.”, you stated, smiling at him, a hint of wickedness in your eyes. “And you will.”

Your skilled movements and dedicated demeanor sent him over the edge immediately. Protests were futile as he came in you forcefully, you felt his cock pumping his seed deep into you, hot and thick as you rocked him through his orgasm. Your own high wasn't worth chasing, too far away to matter. You didn't even think about it – nothing could feel better than this.

Alastor ran his hands over his forehead, sweeping away beads of sweat as his breath calmed down.

His hand shot out to grab you, and, still impaled by him, he pulled you into his chest, invading your mouth with his tongue to kiss you possessively. As if to transfer the command, the control he had given up, back to him. Taking it from you.

For a moment you were scared. The positions had reset to their default. Would that mean he'd push you off? Say goodnight and never talk about this night again? Returning to the Status Quo. Friends, the end.

Alastor pulled your chin up to look at you. His thumb ran over your cheek, tenderly and full of care. His eyes answered every question in your mind. You weren't scared anymore.

[spacedace]

Bruce is grateful for the fact that Damian has made friends, he is.

He's happy that his son has met children his own age at school and befriended them. That he is growing from that prickly, unhappy, scarred child he'd first been when he'd come to live with Bruce. That his friends are even normal kids - baring Jon, who is still normal enough despite being the son of Superman and occasionally a super hero himself - with no links to anything strange or dangerous or illegal.

"Oh, sup B."

He just wished that his son's friends were also just a little less...feral.

"Hello Elle."

Elle Nightingale gave him a little wave with the lemon she was holding - or as best as she could considering the space she was working with - and smiled cheekily at him. Bruce felt a headache budding behind his eyes.

"I thought Alfred banned you from the kitchen?" She shifted a bit, nudging a bottle of milk - farm fresh, courtesy of the Kents, passed along via Jon as thanks for looking after him for the weekend. Bruce wished he'd had the foresight to expect that Jonathan Kent staying over for the weekend would mean that Elle, her cousin Billy and their friend BL - the children refused to say the girl’s real name, likely to spite Damian, and thr initials had been a compromise to calling her Box Lunch - would take it as them being permitted to stay over for so long as well. Damian had just given Bruce a an unimpressed look when he'd expressed his surprise at the sudden influx of twelve year olds in his home. As if Bruce was disappointing him at being so foolish as to think his entire pack of hellhounds wouldn't be invading enmass.

"Just getting a snack." He assured her, not wanting her to being the wrath of Alfred down upon his head. The hellions liked doing that, for some reason. "I don't suppose you could tell me what exactly you're doing in my fridge." Bruce tried, looking at the girl curled up in what should have been a deeply uncomfortable position between a few shelves of the large appliance.

Elle grinned. Her canines looked a little too sharp in the odd light of the fridge. Bruce really had to stop thinking of his sons friends as demonic hellions, he was starting to impose impossible features on them when he was sleep deprived.

"We're playing hide and seek." She made direct, unblinking eye contact with him as she brought the whole lemon to her mouth and took a bite out of it like it was an apple. "It’s Day's turn to seek." She added, lemon juice dripping down her chin as she swallowed her bite, rind and all.

Well at least she was getting enough vitimin C.

"Right." He nodded, deciding that it wasn't cowardice that led him not wanting to get involved. No, it was just...good parenting. Letting the kids be kids. It was a sleepover, and Damian was actually playing a game! That was something to be encouraged! Bruce wasn't fleeing from this particular group of children's brand of chaos at all. "...could you hand me one of the fruit cups Alfred made earlier?"

Elle obliged on the condition Bruce didn't tell Damian about her hiding spot and returned to happily eating her...whole lemon...as he shut the fridge door on her.

As he returned to his office he glanced out one of the manor's large windows long enough to see Billy stick his head out from the top of the twelve foot tall topiaries out on the front lawn, checking to see if Damian was about. Bruce shook his head, kids and their ability to climb impossible structures never ceased to amaze him. Billy should be careful not to keep trying to peak for Damian though, he was going to end up getting found that way.

[fanaticsnail]

Saw a post about how penguins "propose" with rocks. Meaning if you were dating penguin:

He would gift you cool rocks all through your relationship but especially when he's going to propose

OR

2. That engagement ring is about to be MASSIVE

-♡♡

I loved this concept. It needed to be in a fic, ♡♡ Anon. As soon as I saw my asks starting to work again, I began this little penguin fic for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Penguin's Rock Collection

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,450+

Synopsis: Penguin finally tells you about each piece in his extensive rock collection, and you are left in awe when he shows you his crowning piece.

Themes: Penguin x gn!reader, fluff, proposals, Penguin is a thief, he is a kleptomaniac, kisses, proposal, cute things, just let him talk about his rocks.

Mini Part 2, Mini Part 3

When you first began dating Penguin, you were in awe with the small cluster of miscellaneous rocks he kept in his private quarters. There were only three or four lining his bed frame, littering the surface and adding an element to his side of the room that was something distinctly his. While Shachi kept tri-fold posters of various wanted bounties of his friends throughout the Blues, Penguin had a few small rocks. 

Each time you visited him in his quarters as opposed to yours, you witnessed the collection grow in vast number and size. Not before long, the shelves and cabinets in his shared room with Shachi was overwhelmed with rocks of differing textures and sizes: all labeled and tagged with the appropriate title, size, weight, and color. You laughed at the disdain Shachi would pull over his face, the scowl permanently plastered on his mouth as he flicked the overlaying cabinet with his toes and pushed it further onto Penguin’s side of the room from his recline against his bed.

As you show interest in his hobby, asking before touching any that seemed to catch your interest, and he would tell you the story behind it. Reclining back on his bed and propped onto his elbows, he would watch you with a soft smile drawn up on his lips.

“That one was from Swallow Island, just outside Wolf’s house,” he gestured to the pebble in your hands, “Nicked it from his front garden. Wanted something to remember him by.” You offered him a soft smile before placing the rock back onto the side, just above its correlating slip of paper. 

“And this one?” you ask, cocking your head to the side and gently tracing the contours of the soft shell-like stone. 

“That one was from the first time I met you,” he uttered quietly to himself, slowly stepping over his blankets to draw himself at your side, “You were wearing that green shirt. Took that piece of jade from the wall near the beach.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, sneaking a look at Shachi as he attempted to remain nonchalant while reading a comic in the corner of the room. 

“You remember my shirt?” you asked Penguin, puzzled at the attentiveness he took at the encounter. He slowly stepped over to the collection, gently brushing his hands over them before turning back to you. 

“I remember a lot of things. The rocks-... they-...” he sucked his lips into his mouth, stifling what he wanted to truly say. Shaking his head, he returned his hat-shrouded eyes to you and offered you a smile, “...They tell stories. They help me remember. Wolf, Law, even this stupid asshole.” His thumb gestured to Shachi with his thumb, who crudely elevated his middle finger in return without removing his eyes from the pages. 

“Oh?” you ask in response, smiling and raising your hand up to the cabinet, placing your weight coyly on your forearm. Further puzzlement overtook you as you peered at the expanded array of rocks, gems, golds and pebbles. “Pen, there’s quite a few here, honey. Surely you don’t have a story behind each rock you’ve stolen, you kleptomaniac.” 

He chuckled at your accusation, turning away from the shelf and rummaging around in his draws. The soft rustle had you confused, attempting to peer over his shoulder while he blocked your sight with the curve of his ass and broad shoulders. 

“Our first date, the time we spent in Sabaody Archipelago together, the beach incident where you pushed me into the water-,” he listed off, prompting you to interject with your rebuttal. 

“-I did no such thing! You fell, I laughed, and you pulled me in!” you defended yourself, moving away from the cabinet and approaching him just as he stood, “You tried to drown me.” 

“I did not,” he gasped, feigning shock and clutching both hands to his heart, “You were flailing about and I was trying to hold you still.” He chuckled at you, watching as your lips fell into a cute pout. 

“You ruined my pants by drenching them in salt water-,” you spoke, falling short when he leaned down and pressed his nose against yours. Gently rubbing the pointed tip of his nose against yours, he cooed down in response.

“-Your blue pants,” he whispered, removing his nose from dancing with yours and nodding his head back towards the cabinet, “Aquamarine from the bottom of the sea where we were swimming. Had to go back later and dive for it, I’d hope you know. Hard to do that in the dark.” 

He removed himself from your embrace and cradled something small against his chest. 

“And what have you got there, Pen? Quartz from the first time we put on our Heart Pirate uniforms together?” you teased him, scrunching your nose and softly cradling his cheeks in both of your palms. He chuckled at you, reaching up to remove his hat and place it on your own head while cradling the object against his chest with his other hand. 

“Pirate uniforms, no. Heart, yes,” he whispered intimately, withdrawing his head from yours and gazing his crystalline blue eyes deeply into your own orbs. Withdrawing his hand from his chest, he presented you with a small rectangular box lined in painted gold. Atop a small cushion lying in the center, a band of woven gold with a small, unpolished stone lying on the top. 

“This was from the moment I knew my heart belonged to you,” the softness from his confession was depicted in the deep baritone, his stature slowly sinking onto his knees, “I collected all of these rocks in the hopes of finding the perfect moment to give you this one. It’s-.”

“-Is this amethyst, Pen?” you fawned over the rock, studying its shape with your lips parted and brows triangulating up to the center of your forehead. Tears swelled in your eyes as you watched his own glaze over with a soft mist of joy. 

“From when we got separated from the crew, you sprained your ankle, and then argued with me when I tried to look after you,” he nodded in confirmation, his smile drawing up his face the longer he reminded you, “We slept in the cave, the whole thing covered in amethyst stalactites, and you let me hold you against me.” 

“But Pen...” you bit back a sob, gently reaching down and cupping his cheek in your palm, “We weren’t even together at that point-.”

“-But that’s the moment I knew my heart would always belong to you,” he darted his eyes between yours while softly nuzzling against your palm, “What would you say? If I were to give this to you as an extension of myself? To promise to love and care for you always, to be by your side as your husband? Would you-...? Will you-...?” He choked on his words, attempting to gage your reaction by holding his eyes to your own. 

You nod your head at first slowly, before your enthusiasm took over. Bobbing your head, you slink to your knees in front of him and throw yourself into his arms. Lips colliding in a messy clatter of teeth and tongues, you whimper against him as tears begin to roll down your cheeks in heavy waves. 

“So, I take that’s a yes, then?” A lazy voice called from the other side of the room, prompting you and Penguin to laugh into the kiss before breaking away from it. You called over to Shachi, without tearing your eyes away from Penguin’s.

“It’s definitely a yes,” you nod. He hastily grabs for your left hand, removing the ring from the pillow and nodding at you to gain consent before dragging it over your unity finger to the knuckle. 

Several bangs drew you away from this moment of solitude, Shachi’s balled fist colliding against the metal wall of the submarine while shouting: “It’s a yes-!” at the top of his lungs. 

Cheers reverberated in the hallway, prompting you to shake your head at the reaction from the entirety of the members aboard the Polar Tang. You gaze down at your hand, admiring the way the metal shone over your skin and danced the lights from the crystal throughout the room. Penguin couldn’t take his eyes off you: noticing the way you beamed down at his ring and wore his most prized rock with pride. 

He’ll work up the courage to tell you how much trouble it was to learn how to cast gold, welt the settings, and how he had to humble himself in front of Eustass Kid and Massacre Soldier Killer to learn how to do it properly. But that story, and its correlating, stolen, bismuth paper weight, would be for another time. For now, all he wanted to do was scoop you up, hold you close, and gush to everyone he knew how much he was in love with his beautiful fiance. 

And you would do the same.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[pretzel-box]

REVERSE AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 7 : A cure so sweet

Tags: Reverse AU, Fluff, Established Relationship, Lots of cute interactions, sick sebby

Words: 1,3k

If Sebastian hated one thing above all, it was feeling sick. That strange, sickly sensation would settle deep in his bones, weighing down his every movement. His nose constantly ran, and sneezes came out of nowhere, only adding to the misery. Hiding from monsters in a deadly facility was already hard enough, but being sick made it almost unbearable.

Fortunately, he had you—a brilliant partner with a shop filled with a strange assortment of junk, some of it actually useful.

"Aw, come here, Sebastian!" The moment he stepped in, you pulled him into the warmth of your shop. Several heaters hummed along the walls, and Sebastian already knew you’d make him settle in his usual spot, close to one of them.

Sebastian groaned as he slumped into his designated spot near the heater. His head was heavy, and he shivered despite the warmth. You knelt down in front of him as best as you could with a soft, concerned smile, your hands already busy. A blanket appeared out of nowhere (probably pulled out from one of the shelves), and before he could protest, you draped it around his shoulders.

"You're worse than I thought," you teased lightly, brushing his messy raven hair away from his forehead. "You always try to power through it, but not today."

He gave a half-hearted grumble, but leaned into your touch, appreciating the small moments of comfort. "I’m fine," he muttered, but the rasp in his voice betrayed him. "Just need to—"

"Nope." You cut him off, placing a gentle finger on his lips. "Today, you’re resting, no excuses. I’ll handle everything."

Sebastian sighed, but the softness in your eyes melted his resistance. You moved away briefly, returning with a cup of hot tea. "Here, it's ginger. It'll help with your throat. I found it recently in a cupboard down the hall near a break room.”

He took the cup, his fingers brushing against yours. "Thanks," he murmured, taking a sip and wincing at the sharpness of the ginger, but the warmth spread through him, soothing his throat. "You always know what I need."

"I know you better than you think," you said with a grin, settling beside him.

He glanced at you, eyes softening. "I'm lucky to have you."

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. "You always take care of me in the chaos out there. Let me take care of you now."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a faint smile as he closed his eyes, leaning into your warmth. The world outside might be a mess, but in this small shop, with you beside him, he felt a little less broken.

Sebastian let out a long sigh, sinking further into the blanket as you pressed closer to him. The warmth from the heater mixed with the comfort of your touch, and for the first time all day, he felt a bit of the tension leave his body. He placed the half-empty cup of tea on the floor beside him, his hands finding their way to you, pulling a part of you gently onto his lap.

"You know," he whispered, his voice still hoarse, "you make it really hard for me to stay grumpy."

You smiled, shifting so you could wrap your arms around his neck, your noses nearly touching. "That's the plan," you said softly, brushing a light kiss against his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut, the simple gesture easing away the lingering weight of sickness. "I like it when you're all soft like this," you teased, your voice dropping to a quiet murmur.

Sebastian chuckled weakly, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. "Only for you," he whispered back, his voice low and rough but filled with affection.

The moment hung between you both, thick with the warmth of shared comfort. You leaned in again, this time pressing a tender kiss against his lips. It was slow, gentle—like neither of you wanted to break the moment. He kissed you back, lazy and soft, as if all the energy he had left was reserved just for you.

When you pulled back, your foreheads rested together, and Sebastian's eyes stayed closed, his breathing steady. You shifted slightly, nestling into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. His arms instinctively tightened around you, his hand slowly tracing circles on your back.

"You know you don’t have to push yourself so hard," you whispered against his skin, your breath warm and comforting.

"I’m used to it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. "But with you… it’s different. You make me want to slow down. Just… be here."

You smiled against his neck, letting your lips brush against his skin before you placed a lingering kiss there. "Then stay here," you said, your voice tender. "With me."

Sebastian let out a content hum, shifting slightly to pull you even closer. "I think I could get used to this," he whispered, his lips finding yours again in a slow, lingering kiss, as if time itself could pause in the warmth of your embrace.

Sebastian sighed softly into the kiss, his lips barely brushing against yours as he held you close, the warmth between you both making the world outside feel distant. When you finally pulled back, your fingers instinctively moved up to his hair, threading through the soft strands and gently stroking his scalp. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut once more as a content hum escaped his throat.

But then, a small frown appeared on his face as a particular thought hit him too late. He shifted slightly beneath you, as if something was gnawing at the back of his mind. "Hey," he murmured, his voice still raspy. "You should probably keep some distance... I don't want to get you sick."

You paused your gentle strokes, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He looked so torn—worried, even in the middle of all the comfort you'd been giving him. His brow furrowed slightly, like he was already kicking himself for letting you get this close while he wasn't feeling well.

"Sebastian..." you whispered softly, brushing a thumb against his cheek. "You know I don’t care about that."

He opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him with a gentle kiss—quick, reassuring, filled with all the affection you'd been holding for him. His breath hitched slightly, his hands tightening around your waist, but before he could get another word in, you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

"I’m not going anywhere," you said, your voice firm but full of warmth. "You’re stuck with me, sickness and all." You gave him a soft, teasing smile, your fingers resuming their gentle motions through his hair. "Besides, what kind of partner would I be if I didn’t take care of you?"

Sebastian’s face softened, but his concern lingered. "I just… I don’t want you feeling like this," he muttered, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on your hip.

"Maybe I will," you shrugged playfully, "but we’ll deal with that later. Right now, all I care about is making sure you feel better."

His heart swelled at your words, and the way you kept running your fingers through his hair was slowly breaking down his resolve. He leaned his head against your chest, his eyes closing again as he let out a deep breath. "You’re impossible," he murmured, though his tone was soft, affectionate.

You grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "And you love it."

"Yeah..." he whispered, his arms wrapping around you more tightly. "I really do."

For a moment, you both stayed like that—Sebastian curled up in your arms, his worries slowly fading as you held him close, your fingers moving rhythmically through his hair. The warmth between you was more than just physical; it was the kind of comfort only you could give him, a sense of peace that no amount of chaos in the world could take away.

"You’re everything to me, you know that?" His voice was quiet, almost as if he was afraid to say it aloud.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you gently tilted his head up so you could look into his eyes. "And you’re everything to me," you replied softly, leaning down to kiss him again, slow and deep, as if you could pour all the love you felt for him into that one moment.

Sebastian kissed you back, his worries finally slipping away as he melted into your touch.

It took exactly two weeks till you were bedridden and absolutely sick, crying out loud for your boyfriend.

[kenacoki]

After Nightfall

// Pairing // Eddie Diaz x GN!Reader

// Request // Y/n has a nightmare about Eddie dying and wakes up scared which accidentally wakes Eddie up. She reverts into flight mode and runs out of the house and Eddie runs after her. She runs into an alleyway and starts crying and Eddie finds her and comforts her.

// Word Count // 7k

// Warnings // mentions of death and blood

// Dividers // sister-lucifer

As you walk through the front door into Eddie’s house, you set your bags on the floor, “You really didn’t have to do this, Ed’s. I-I coulda got a hotel room or something until they get the gas leak fixed in my apartment.”

Eddie shakes his head, closing the door behind you and locking it. He turns to face you, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, it’s no problem.” He averts his attention to the small boy sitting on the couch. “Besides, you know how much I-Chris—How much Christopher loves having you around.” The tips of his ears flush red with embarrassment at his almost slip-up.

You smile at his words, thoughts of his adorable son bringing you a sense of comfort. He takes a step closer, his eyes studying your face closely.

“And besides, you know I’d never let you pay for a hotel room when you could just stay here instead.”

You can feel your face heat up slightly, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you at his words. You know he’s just being friendly, but there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I...I just don’t want to impose or anything…” you nervously mutter.

Eddie chuckles softly, his expression growing a bit softer, “You’re not imposing, you know that. Besides,” His deep honey-colored eyes pierce into yours, “I like knowing you’re here…close by.”

His words send a flutter through your stomach. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel almost giddy.

He continues into his kitchen, opening his fridge and scanning the shelves. “You hungry for anything particular?”

You follow him into the kitchen, your (e/c) eyes taking in the familiar small space. It’s cozy and comfortable, just like the rest of his little home. You lean against the counter, folding your arms over your chest as you shake your head.

“Not really, just something small is fine..“ you reply a bit absentmindedly, still a bit distracted by his words from before and the fluttering in your stomach. You snap your attention over to Christopher, “What about you, Chris?”

Eddie rummages through his fridge for a moment before pulling out a Tupperware of leftovers and placing it on the counter. He smiles, his eyes sparkling with a sort of fond excitement at the mention of his son.

“Actually, he’s spending the night with a new friend, a kid named Dustin. They met a few days ago and practically bonded instantly. I swear, those two are like peas in a pod..” he chuckles softly, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

“Sounds like about like you and Buck…” you joke, glancing back at the small boy on the couch.

Eddie smiles, a sly twinkle in his eyes at your comment. He leans against the counter next to you, nodding slightly in agreement.

“Yeah, maybe a little. Except I’m smarter than Buck so...” he says jokingly, his teasing tone playful.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at his comment. You know he’s just teasing, but you can’t help but banter back.

“Oh yeah, says who?” You challenge, your eyes flickering to his, a small smile on your face.

He grins, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. He leans in a bit closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Says me,” he retorts, his tone confident and sure. He pauses for a moment before adding, “And also Buck. He’s admitted multiple times that I’m the smarter one.”

You snort, shaking your head in amused disbelief.

“Yeah right, I’m sure he said that..” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You know Buck all too well and know for a fact that he would never admit Eddie is smarter than him; even if it was partly true.

You watch as he opens up the leftover container and grabs two bowls from a shelf in his cabinet. He grabs a spoon and evenly divides the food into each one.

He hands over one of the bowls, your fingers just barely brushing against his. For a brief moment, your eyes lock, and for a second you swear you see a tiny flash of something in his gaze. However, it’s gone in an instant, quickly replaced by his usual playful confidence.

“Oh, believe me, he did.” He says, a hint of pride in his tone. “He’s just too stubborn to admit it in front of anyone else.”

Taking the bowl from him, you roll your eyes once more. But can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face at his insistence. There’s just something so undeniably charming about his confidence, his ability to banter back and forth with you like this…

“Alright, whatever you say, Ed’s. Just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

He chuckles, grabbing his own bowl and joining you at the counter. He raises his bowl slightly in a mock “cheers” gesture.

“No promises.” He says, his tone jokingly cocky. He takes a bite of his food, a satisfied hum leaving his lips at the taste. He eyes you from the side, a sly smile on his face.

Chuckling slightly, you shake your head at his smugness. You take a bite of the food, mirroring his satisfied hum. The food is actually pretty damn good, just the right amount of spices and seasonings.

“what is this?” You question, slightly muffled by the food in your mouth.

He grins, taking another bite before replying, “It’s something my abuela used to make,” he says, fondly recalling a memory. “It’s a sort of chicken and rice dish with this secret blend of spices. I’ve gotten pretty good at it if I do say so myself.”

There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he explains.

Humming in approval, you take another bite. It really is good, and the fact that it’s something his abuela used to make makes it taste even more special.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s an understatement,” your mouth still half full as you speak. You swallow before continuing, “This is really good, Ed’s. I’m impressed.”

Eddie has a tiny smile on his face as you praise his cooking. He seems almost shy as he ducks his head slightly, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice suddenly a bit bashful. He takes another bite, trying to hide his slight embarrassment.

There’s a knock at the door, Eddie sets his bowl down on the counter, “That must be Dustin’s parents. Let me grab Christopher’s stuff real fast.”

You nod, finishing the last bite of your food. You set the bowl down on the counter next to his, watching as he heads down the hallway toward Christopher’s room.

After a moment of silence, you can hear snippets of their conversation through the house as Eddie greets Dustin’s parent and hands them Christopher’s bags.

“I love you, bud…” your heart swells as you hear Eddie say goodbye to his son for night. They exchange their thanks and leave, saying their goodbyes to Eddie as they do so.

Hearing the front door close, Eddie reappears in the kitchen after a few moments. He looks a bit distracted though, leaning back against the counter and letting out a small melancholy sigh.

You study him momentarily, noticing the slight shift in his demeanor. You’re not sure what’s on his mind, but you can tell something’s off.

“Everything okay?” You ask him, your voice soft and concerned.

He seems surprised by your question as if he had been lost in his own thoughts for a second.

“Hm?” He hums, blinking a few times before his brain catches up. “Oh.. yeah, I’m fine…Just-just lost in thought for a moment, is all.”

You eye him doubtfully, clearly not entirely convinced by his response.

“Are you sure?” You question a hint of worry still in evident your tone. You lean against the counter next to him, studying his face closely in an attempt to read his expression.

He flashes a faint, reassuring smile, trying to downplay whatever is going on in his head. But his eyes give away his true thoughts, the slight unease and tension still lingering in their depths.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.” He says, his voice sounding almost forced. He notices that your bowl is nowempty and grabs it, turning around and placing it in his sink.

You don’t quite buy his response, not fooled by his attempt at nonchalance. But you can tell he’s not in the mood to share or talk about what’s going on in that head of his, so you decide not to press him too much.

Nodding slightly you just hum in acknowledgment, suppressing any remaining suspicion. Eddie quickly changes the subject.

“Hey, you want to watch a movie or something?”

You can tell he’s trying to deflect and change the subject from what’s going on in his head, but decide to let it slide for now.

“Sure, yeah. What do you have in mind?”

He grins, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“How about a horror movie?” he suggests a hint of mischief in his voice.

You let out a small scoff, immediately catching on to his game. You narrow your eyes at him, a scowl forming on your face.

“Very funny, Eddie.” You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a disapproving look.

He grins innocently, the mischief now clear in his eyes. He knows the effect movies like that have on you, and he revels in it.

“What? I’m just asking a simple question..” he says, feigning ignorance. He leans a bit closer, his tone becoming more teasing. “Scared you won’t be able to handle it?”

You glare at him, the annoyance evident on your face. Damn him for always finding ways to tease and rile you up like this…

“Oh, please. I can handle a damn movie, no problem.” You practically growl out, your pride taking over. You strut over to the couch and plop down.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying how easily he’s getting under your skin. He follows you over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“If you say so.” He replies, his tone still playful and smug. He grabs the remote off the coffee table and scrolls through the movie selection. “Any particular one you want me to put on? Or should I pick?”

You roll your eyes, not even dignifying his smugness with a response. You can already tell he’s going to pick the most horrifying movie possible, just to mess with you.

“You pick.” You dramatically grumble, your voice filled with both annoyance and a hint of resignation.

His grin widens at the response, clearly overjoyed at the opportunity to pick something that’s going to make you squirm. He continues browsing through the selection for a few moments before stopping on a particularly scary-looking movie.

“What about this one?” he holds up the remote and points it at the TV. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, a sly smile still plastered on his face.

Looking at the TV, your eyes widen as they skim over the screen. As soon as you catch sight of the movie title, a shiver runs down your spine.

“No way,” you say, voice firm and resolute.

He feigns shock at my refusal, his brown eyes widening, “What, why not? It looks like a good one...” he says, his tone overly innocent. He turns to you, his eyes practically glittering with mischief.

“You’re not really scared, are you?”

You scoff, annoyance growing with every word that leaves his mouth. You can practically see the taunting gleam in his eyes, and it only irritates you further.

“Of course, I’m not scared.” You quip back, voice full of faux confidence. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that the movie is actually terrifying.

He smirks, clearly not buying my act for even a second. But he plays along anyway, his voice dripping with faux concern, “You’re not going to get nightmares, are you?”

Your (e/c) eyes playfully glare at him, your irritation continuing to rise.

“Oh, please. I don’t get nightmares from stupid movies, dumbass. And even if I did, I’d just wake up from it. No big deal…” You retort your tone laced with annoyance.

You yank the remote from his hand and press play, sinking back further into the couch.

He lets out a soft laugh at your display of defiance, clearly amused by your stubbornness. He watches the TV as the movie starts to play, his gaze occasionally flickering back towards you. His eyes sparkle with a hint of anticipation.

“Whatever you say,” he responds, his mocking tone making it clear that he doesn’t believe you.

The movie continues, and you keep your focus strictly on the screen, refusing to give Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you scared.

As the movie progresses, the tension in the room thickens, almost palpably. Despite the gore occurring on screen, you force yourself to keep up a neutral expression.

However, as the movie becomes more and more intense, your heart rate quickens ever so slightly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

He sees the way your body tenses up as the movie becomes more intense, the subtle clench of your jaw as the suspense builds. But he doesn’t say anything, not yet anyway. He just continues to watch you closely, waiting for the moment when you finally crack.

As the movie's plot takes a particularly sinister turn, the tension in your body reaches its peak. Your fingers grip the edge of the couch tightly as your heart beats faster and faster, the sound of it thumping loudly in your ears. You try your best to keep up the facade, to keep a stoic expression. But as the movie gets progressively more horrifying, you can feel your resolve starting to waver—

“Boo…” Eddie's breath fans against your ear.

You nearly jump out of your skin at his sudden voice. Your heartbeat practically shoots through the roof. A surprised squeak escapes your lips before you can stop it, your body jolting forward instinctively.

"Jesus Christ!" You yell, your voice a mixture of fear and annoyance as you turn to glare at him. “Don't do that!"

He grins at your reaction, clearly relishing in the fact that he’s successfully scared you. He chuckles softly, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement, "I Couldn't help myself."

“You..you’re an ass sometimes.” You swiftly reach over and mess up his hair, teasing him playfully.

He gives a faux indignant scoff, attempting to look offended by my words, but the grin on his face betrays his true amusement. As you mess up his hair, he laughs softly, trying to duck away from your hand.

“Hey, hey!” He protests in a mock-upset tone, playfully batting your hand away. “Watch it. You’ll mess up my hair.”

Hearing his somewhat dramatic response to your little attack, you can't help but chuckle in response. You know he's just messing around.

"Oh, right. My bad. Can't have that perfect hair getting messed up, can we?" You tease, voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy as you ruffle his hair up even more.

Eddie laughs again as you mess up his hair, the gesture sending his bangs falling across his forehead in a disheveled mess. He tries to feign annoyance again, but the laughter keeps slipping out. He lifts his hand to try and fix his hair, but it's no use. You’ve completely ruined the carefully-styled look he had going on, and he knows it.

However, after you playfully mess it up with your fingers, it becomes more tousled and disheveled, sticking up in a way that somehow makes him look even more ruggedly handsome. A hint of annoyance flashes in his eyes as he quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to smooth it back down, but he can't quite hide the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It’s quite a contrast from his usual meticulously-styled look, but somehow it suits him just as much. Despite the slightly ridiculous appearance, he still looks effortlessly attractive.

“You look like a freaking mess now.” You comment, a playful grin on your face.

He rolls his eyes, but the laughter still tumbles from his lips. He gives you a half-hearted glare, pretending to be irritated by the comment, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Gee, thanks. You really know how to flatter a guy, don’t you?” He retorts, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

You give an exaggerated shrug as your grin widens.

“What can I say? I’m just that good.” You slyly tease as you lean back further into the couch. Your eyes grow heavy as they look at the clock on the wall.

Eddie shakes his head in mock exasperation, still trying and failing to fix his hair. He glances over at the clock as well, his own eyes growing a bit heavy.

“It’s getting late.” He yawns out, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

You nod in agreement, a small yawn of your own escaping your lips once again. Carefully, you stretch your arms above your head, your muscles protesting at the motion. As you do this, the hem of your shirt rides up an inch, exposing a sliver of bare skin.

“Yeah, it is.” You agree, voice a bit groggy. You lean your head back against the couch, eyes fluttering slightly. “Maybe we should get some sleep..”

Eddie notices your exposed skin as you stretch, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he quickly averts his eyes. He clears his throat softly, trying to distract himself from the sight. He nods in agreement with your suggestion.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should get some sleep..” He agrees, his voice tinged with weariness.

You notice his brief glance at you, but as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone again. It makes you feel strangely self-conscious for a moment, but you shake off the feeling quickly. You’re both tired, it's probably nothing.

The movie on the TV continues to play in the background, but neither of you is paying attention to it anymore. It’s mostly just white noise now. Eddie stands up from the couch, his body stiff from sitting for so long.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth and stuff…” He says, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Goodnight.

“Okay…” you call out, voice soft and groggy with the need for sleep. You watch as he heads off down the hallway towards the bathroom. Letting out a small yawn, the exhaustion from the day finally starts to get to me.

“Night…” You mutter, your words slurring together slightly in your sleepy state. Slowly, you head down the hall to Eddie’s guest bedroom.

After a few minutes, Eddie returns from the bathroom, now clad in a pair of pajama pants. His hair is still messy from earlier, the strands sticking out every which way. He makes his way down the hallway to his own room and crawls into bed, the exhaustion now taking over as he closes his eyes and drifts off into sleep.

Carefully, you crawl into the bed and pull the covers up to your chin as darkness starts creeping into your vision.

The soft, welcoming embrace of sleep begins to envelop you, as the fatigue of the day starts to take over. You feel yourself begin to sink into the bed, the mattress molding perfectly to your form. Your thoughts slowly start to dissolve as sleep finally pulls you under. You can feel your eyelids closing as your mind begins to slip into unconsciousness.

The gentle sounds of night filter in through the window, the crickets singing their melodic lullaby. The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the room, creating a peaceful, calming atmosphere.

As you sink deeper and deeper into sleep, your mind begins to wander, slowly losing touch with reality. Your breathing slows, and your body grows heavy and relaxed. The world around you fades away, your mind drifting off into a dream, blending reality and fantasy into a vivid, surreal world.

When your eyes open again, one thing is for sure; you’re inside your apartment; more specifically your living room. You can practically smell the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air from earlier in the day. The furniture is exactly where you left it, nothing amiss. The room is silent and still causing an uneasy feeling to form in your gut.

Walking further into the apartment, your footsteps echo softly throughout the quiet space. You glance around as you move towards the kitchen, your steps getting more cautious. There’s a small part of your mind that’s screaming at you, telling you that something's wrong, that this isn’t right.

Entering the space, your eyes scan the room for anything out of place. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see the silhouette of a man behind your kitchen island.

“Eddie…?” The figure whips around. They look exactly like Eddie, down to every last detail. Their clothes, their hair, even the faint scruff on their jaw.

You freeze in place, your heart nearly stopping as you take in the person standing in front of you.

“Wha-how…how did you—how did we get here? I thought we were at—”

“Shhhh..”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest, the fear starting to take over. You take a small backward step, your wide (e/c) eyes locked on the figure in front of you.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze fixed on you. The gesture is so familiar, mirroring the way Eddie moves and acts so perfectly it’s almost eerie.

“Why…why didn’t you help?” He questions, a twisted smile on his face.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your blood turning cold. The smile on his face is almost sinister, a sharp contrast to how Eddie usually smiles.

“What?” You manage to croak out, your voice coming out small and afraid.

He takes another step towards you, his footsteps silent on the floor. He moves unnaturally as if he’s simply gliding across the room. Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears as he gets closer, every one of your instincts telling you to run.

“Why didn’t you help me?” He repeats, his tone cold and curt.

Hearing his repeated question, a wave of confusion washes over you. Help who? Him? You lost, unsure of what he’s talking about.

“H-help—Eddie what are you talking…” you trail off, your voice hoarse with fear as you notice a tiny, almost missable stain on his shirt.

Then slowly, almost tauntingly, a sickening pool of crimson starts to spread across and stain the shoulder of Eddie’s grey shirt.

The sight of the red stain sends a jolt of fear through you, your eyes fixed on the growing spot of blood as it spreads across his shirt… just like when he was shot by the sniper.

He doesn’t seem to realize it’s there, or he just doesn’t care. He keeps moving forward, closing the space between you.

A million thoughts run through your head, each one more terrifying than the last. You try to back away further, but you can’t seem to move your feet. It’s as if you’ve been frozen in place, trapped under his intense gaze.

“Eddie..” you manage to whisper out, your voice barely a hoarse whisper. “What’s happening?”

He smiles again, the expression sending another wave of chills down your spine. He stops moving, standing just a few feet away from you. His gaze scans over your form, taking in every detail.

The intensity of his gaze causes you to shrink in on yourself, your body instinctively trying to make yourself smaller. The urge to run away is stronger than ever.

“Please,” you plead, voice shaking as you try to keep yourself together. “please wake up…please wake up.”

He seems to find the request amusing, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. It sounds like Eddie’s laugh, but there’s an undertone of malice in it

“Wake up?” He says, his tone almost mocking as he takes another step towards you. “But aren’t you already awake?”

Abruptly, he grabs your hand and brings it against his damp shoulder, staining your hand a crimson red

Gasping, you can feel the sticky, warm liquid against your palm and fingers as you're forced to touch it, the feeling causing a wave of nausea to wash over you

“No...no this isn’t real.” You mumble, denial and disbelief warring with each other.

once again you attempt to wrench your hand away from his grasp, to break free, but he holds it firmly in place. He keeps it planted against his shoulder, forcing her to feel the blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“Isn’t real?” He replies, his tone almost mocking as he speaks. “Looks real to me.”

He glances down at the stain on his shirt, acting as if he’s just noticed it for the first time. His brown eyes widen in horror as he looks back at you before collapsing to the floor of your apartment.

“Eddie!” You scream, your knees hitting the floor as you crumble beside him.

Blood pools on the floor beneath him, seeping out from the bullet wound in his shoulder, staining the wooden floor a sickening shade of red. His face is twisted in agony, a silent scream caught in his throat as his body tremors uncontrollably. Despite your best efforts, it's clear that he's fighting a losing battle, his strength and resilience gradually being overpowered by the onslaught of pain and injury.

“G-Get up! Eddie…” The sight of him lying there on the floor in agony, his life slowly slipping away, sends a wave of anguish through your heart.

Your hands shake as you try to stop the flow of blood oozing from his shoulder. You can see the life slowly draining from his eyes, the light fading as he struggles to stay conscious. His breath comes out in shallow, ragged gasps, each oneweaker than the last. It's like watching a slow, torturous countdown, every tick of the clock bringing him closer to the end.

“Eddie!” Your body jerks up in the guest bed as you’re snapped out of the horrible nightmare.

Panting heavily, your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. You look around the room in a panic, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It’s dark, but you can see the familiar contour of Eddie’s furniture in the room.

You sit there for a few more moments, trying to slow your racing heart. The nightmare had been so vivid, so realistic…you can still practically feel the blood on your hand, the wetness, the warmth of it.

You can’t help but shudder at the memory, wiping your hand furiously on the blanket as if trying to rid yourself of the phantom sensation.

Still slightly disoriented, you stagger up from the bed. Flinging open the bedroom door, you practically stumble out into the hall. Your body still shakes slightly from the after-effects of the nightmare. You can still see the image of it fresh in your mind…

Logic tells you that the nightmare isn’t real, that it was just a fear-fueled dream, but the fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins makes it difficult to think straight. The silence of the apartment is almost deafening in your heightened state.

“I-I can’t be here…” It feels like you can’t breathe like the air is suddenly too thin as panic starts setting in. The fear coursing through you outweighs your common sense. Your brain tells you that you need to get out of here.

“Mmm..? (Y/N)…?” The sound of Eddie’s voice jolts you out of your panic for a moment. Whirling around, your gaze lands on Eddie as he emerges from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he yawns. “What are you doing?”

He’s clad in a pair of grey pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looks tired and disoriented, his eyes half-lidded as he takes in the sight of you.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sight of him standing there safe and unharmed fills you with a sense of peace. However, the fear from the nightmare is still there, lurking in the back of your mind.

You struggle to find your voice, your throat dry and constricted.

“I-I’m sorry…” You fling open the front door, the warm night air engulfing you as you take off down the sidewalk.

Eddie is taken completely off guard by your hasty exit, his sleep-addled mind trying to process what just happened. He stands there at the door for a moment, dumbfounded and disoriented.

It takes him a few moments to snap out of his stupor, his tiredness instantly replaced with worry once he realizes that you’ve left.

“Wait…!” He calls out, stumbling out the door after you.

He struggles to keep up with you, his tired legs slower than yours. He tries to call your name again, but he’s out of breath from running, the words coming out as more of a gasp.

“(Y/n) wait, stop-!” He manages to catch up to you, reaching out to grab your arm.

You flinch at the feel of his hand on your arm, it can’t help but remind you of the nightmare…but in the back of your mind, you know it’s just Eddie.

Your Eddie.

Halting, you tear your arm away from his grasp, whipping around to face him.

He’s breathing heavily, his face flush from the short run. He looks at you with confusion-filled eyes, bewildered by your sudden exit and the look of fear etched on your face.

“What the hell’s wrong…?” He pants out, trying to catch his breath.

You look at him for a moment, the fear and panic still lingering in your eyes. The words spill out before you can stop them.

“I-I had a nightmare..” you stammer out, voice trembling slightly as you force yourself to continue “About…you.”

Your voice softens at the last few words, guilt seeping into your tone. You feel bad for just tearing out of his house in the middle of the night.

He looks down at you, his expression still confused and a bit bewildered. He runs a hand through his messy hair, processing her words.

“About me…?” He asks, the confusion evident in his voice. He doesn’t look angry or offended, just curious.

Your lip quivers as you avert your gaze down to the cracked sidewalk, “Back…Back when you were shot by the sniper.”

Recognition flickers across his features as you mention the sniper, his body tensing slightly. He’s silent for a moment, his expression turning into a grimace as he remembers the painful memory.

“Oh..” He mutters, his voice low.

He reaches a hand up to rub the spot on his shoulder where the sniper had shot him, a ghost of pain flaring up temporarily. The gesture seems involuntary, almost like an instinctual reflex.

“Yeah…that was a pretty shitty experience.” He mutters, his tone dry and humorless.

A pang of guilt shoots through you as you watch him rub his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to bring up the painful memory, you’d just blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

Fidgeting under his gaze, you shift awkwardly where you stand. With your (e/c) eyes filled with hot tears, you keep your attention fixated on the ground; you don’t want Eddie to see you in this state.

He looks at you, surprise flickering across his face for a brief moment at your apology. He shakes his head “Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He replies, his tone softer than before.

You know that, but still, “I know it’s not..but…but the nightmare…” you trail off, struggling to put your thoughts into words.

He lets out a deep sigh, his expression turning sympathetic. He takes a step closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face.

“Hey, it was just a dream…” He says gently, gesturing to himself as if to prove his point. Exhaling, He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it above his shoulders.

before you can process what he’s doing, the sight of his bare chest stops all thoughts in their tracks. Even in the low lighting, you can make out the definition of his muscles, and the smoothness of his skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening slightly as you stare at his exposed skin. You can feel your heartbeat quicken again, the sight of his bare chest sending a wave of heat through your body.

He seems completely oblivious to your reaction, his attention focused on his shoulder as he turns to point out the healed bullet wound left behind by the sniper.

You can see the pink puckered skin, the evidence of the traumatic injury marring his flawless skin. The sight of it only increases the guilt that’s already churning in your gut.

“I’m fine, see?”

Swallowing, you try to compose yourself as you force yourself to speak again.

“Y-yeah, I see it...” you try to keep your tone even. However, your voice still wavers, showing the effect of Eddie’s actions.

He lowers his shirt back down, his attention returning to your face. He studies you for a moment, a hint of concern in his gaze as he notices the way you’re staring at him, the way your voice trembles.

He takes a step closer to her, “Hey, it’s okay, alright? I’m fine. That’s all in the past now..” He mutters gently, his tone soothing.

Nodding, you look back down at the cracked sidewalk.

He reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and gentle. He speaks softly, his voice laced with concern.

“Hey, look at me.”

Slowly, you peer up at Eddie through your eyelashes. The feeling of his hand on your skin is almost grounding, bringing a small comfort in the torrent of emotions that you’re drowning in.

Tenderly, he pulls you into a safe, secure hug.

As he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt. The feeling of his body pressed against yours causes goosebumps to prickle your skin.

He rests his chin on top of your head, his grip around you tightening as he holds you close.

Your bottom lip trembles as Eddie's words sink in. Every gentle stroke of his hand, every soothing word he speaks, chips away at the barriers you’ve built around your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable in a way you’re not used to. You can't hold back the tears any longer, the dam breaking as a choked sob escapes your lips.

Every soothing word he whispers in your ear, every gentle touch he uses to comfort you, only serves to make you cry harder. Your emotions completely overwhelmed by the love and tenderness.

Your body shakes with sobs, your tears soaking through Eddie's shirt, leaving small damp patches against his skin. You cling to him like a lifeline, your fingers digging into his back as you try to hold back the flood of tears.

Eventually, you let yourself relax into his embrace. The steady beat of his heart under your ear is soothing, the sound chasing away the residual fear from the nightmare.

Eddie says nothing. His fingers gently glide up and down your back in a soothing motion, his touch comforting. He can feel your body relax against his, the tension slowly draining from your muscles as you sink into his embrace.

“C’mon, let's head back…”

You nod against his chest, not ready to break away from his embrace quite yet. When you finally do break away from his embrace, you can’t help the pang of disappointment that shoots through you. You look up at him, your (e/c) eyes locking onto his.

There’s no anger visible in his eyes, no trace of annoyance or irritation, just concern and gentle affection as he gazes down at you.

He reaches out a hand, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

The feel of his fingertips on your skin causes a small gasp to escape your lips. It’s such a simple, innocent gesture, but it’s enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

Eddie’s fingers linger on your face, tracing a slow path down your jawline. His touch is incredibly gentle, but it sets your skin on fire.

He leans down a presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes widen at the feel of his lips against your skin, your body responding involuntarily to his touch. The kiss is brief and gentle, but it’s enough to send a wave of heat coursing through your body, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

You let out a small, shaky sigh as Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours, his grip warm and firm. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his touch sending another wave of heat through your body.

He leads you back to his house, walking slowly alongside you. He glances down every now and then, his gaze filled with affection.

As you reach the front door of his house, the soft glow from the porch light washes over the two of you. He pauses for a moment, reaching down and brushing a strand of hair out of your face once again.

“You okay now..?” His voice is soft, almost inaudible as he speaks

Nodding, your heart pounds wildly in your chest as his fingers brush against your skin. You meet his gaze, your chest flooding with a confusing mixture of emotions—

Comfort…

Desire…

Longing…

He looks down at you, his gaze scanning your face. It’s as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. He can see the emotions swirling in your eyes, a mix of confusion and desire that’s almost palpable in the air. It’s a familiar feeling, something he’s felt himself on occasion.

He lets out a soft, ragged breath, his heart rate increasing slightly.

You look up at him, noticing the way his breathing has quickened, the way his heart is beating a little faster in his chest.

It’s a subtle change, but it’s enough to send a spark of hope through you.

Taking a small step forward, your body moves closer to his on instinct, the need to be close to him growing too strong to resist.

Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Your proximity is intoxicating, your mere presence sending his senses into overdrive.

He tries to keep his composure, but it’s a losing battle. His gaze wanders down to your plump lips, his eyes lingering on them for a moment, his thoughts racing with a thousand sinful ideas.

You notice the way he’s looking at you, the heat in his gaze sending a jolt of electricity straight down your spine. You can see the desire in his eyes, the barely restrained need written all over his face.

“Eddie...?” You look up at him through half-lidded eyes, your breath coming out a soft, ragged gasp.

He swallows hard, your soft gasp sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your body pressed up against his, the heat of your skin radiating through his shirt.

“Yeah..?” His voice comes out in a low, rough whisper, the word carrying the weight of all the desire he’s been holding back.

“Kiss me again.”

His breath hitches at the words, the pure need in your voice sending a wave of heat coursing through his body. He looks down at you, his gaze fixed on your lips, your flushed face, your stunning (e/c) eyes.

He reaches out, cusping your face in his hands, his touch gentle and firm at the same time. He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Please…” That’s all Eddie needs, crashing his lips against yours.

You sigh into the kiss, It’s gentle and tender, soft and sweet. You press yourself closer to him, hands snaking around his neck.

Eddie takes his hand and weaves it into your hair, the other sliding down to rest on the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

You let out a soft gasp as you two break away, your breath coming out in short, ragged pants. Looking up at him, your vision is dazed and unfocused as you try to catch your breath.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin tingling from where his hands rest. You can feel his heart beating erratically against your chest, the rapid pace mirroring your own.

He runs his hand through your hair, tracing a slow path down your back, “God, you’re beautiful.” He admits, his voice low and hoarse.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the sound of his voice, low and gravelly in your ear; sending a shiver through your body. You lay your head against his chest, listening to the steadying beat of his heart.

“I guess you’re not so bad yourself.” You shyly smile, your tone teasing.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating throughout his chest. Tightening his grip on you, he pulls you even closer to him.

“And there’s the smartass I know.” Eddie jokes, his tone warm and affectionate.

He unlocks the door, holding it open for you while he gestures for you to go in with his head. A small smile tugs at your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you feel his breath against your skin.

Carefully, you step through the door. Your body still tingles from the feel of his touch. You glance back at him, “You’re lucky that I love you.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he trails in behind you.

“Oh! You love me now, do you?” He teases, closing the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

[momolady]

Art the Orc

If you live in a small town, maybe you'll know this place. It's a little art store run by the same family for ages. It's not changed in all that time either. Picture it, feel it, you know it's the only place that sells that one supply you like. Now, imagine an orc behind the counter. Female Reader x Male Monster

The visage of the old place looked like it had once been a gas station. There was one of those big metal awnings and signs that gas pumps had once been outside. But everything else looked like the art supply store it was. The window was painted, done up with flowers and a flourishing font, but it hadn’t been touched in ages and was chipping and weathering away.

The old place had seen better days, you could tell. But you were excited to tackle such a special project with your own two hands.

Inside the place had a familiar smell of paint thinner, book pages, and coffee. You looked around the front as the bells on the door chimed. The old floor had seen better days and was worn out where you stood, even the welcome mat was hard to read.

“Welcome to Greengold Creative Station,” the deep voice came from behind the front desk where there was an open door. ‘I’ll be out with you in just a moment.”

“Take your time,” you replied. You continued to look around, noting the mismatched shelving and thrown together renovations dotting the place.

A moment later, a large orc came from the back. He was wearing thick glasses and had on a corded cardigan that covered a paint splattered t-shirt.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked as he adjusted his glasses.

You approached the front desk again, extending your hand to him. “Hi! You must be Mr. Greengold, I’m from Regency Renovations.”

There was a surprised look upon his face as he shook your hand. “You’re the renovator?”

You smiled, half expecting some reservation based on your appearance. “I specialize in business and storefront renovations. That is what you wanted, correct, Mr. Greengold?”

He fumbled with his words for a moment, stuttering, touching his glasses until he spoke. “Call me Art, please.”

You held it in, but he knew where your mind went.

“It’s short for Arthur, but it's also my dad’s name so my mom calls me Art. Yes, I know, ha ha, very fun. A man named Art runs the art store.”

“It’s an easy target.” You tried to squash your giggling but a few came out.

He sighed and shook his head. “So, you’ll be handling the whole store. I want it updated completely. It was fine for my parents, but I need to bring in a new generation of artists and online shopping is destroying us.”

“It’s a common issue, Art,” you didn’t look at him as you said his name. “I already have some ideas brewing and I would be happy to discuss your thoughts for the business with you.”

He sighed heavily, gazing out at a store that was once his family’s legacy. “I would say I would like to keep some of what my parents did to this place, but I don’t think any of it is salvageable.”

“Well recycling is a thing.” You replied. “Like some of these old shelves, the wood can be reused to create a rustic facade for the front desk here.” You patted the worn out formica top. “And the vintage signage out from can be reused and framed, hung just right behind you there.”

Art made a face. “You can do all that.”

You returned his face, adding a smug smile to it. “I can do lots of things, Art. My father was a carpenter and my mother was a viper. Be careful of what you inflict about me.” You patted your chest proudly. You knew you were small and chubby, not many people expected much out of you, but your work spoke for itself. And that was how you told people off.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I have a lot riding on this so-”

“So you hired the best. That I can promise you. Now I know you said you didn’t have a lot of funds, but I already have my plans made for how to help you with that. I plan on doing most of the work on my own, but for heavy lifting and other things-”

“I don’t mind helping with that,” he said with a shake of his head.

You had planned to bring in your brother for help, he enjoyed the destruction part of your job and he worked for free food. “Well uh…if you’d like Art, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I wouldn’t want you getting hurt on the job. It would be best if I helped out,” he said.

You couldn’t tell if he was being kind or underestimating you again, so you brushed it off and continued. “I would also like to film the process of the renovation. Stuff like that will help reach your new audience.”

He frowned, and his thick brows pinched together. “You must be joking.”

“I am not. You’d be surprised what the kids these days are watching.” You smirked up at him. “I know what I am doing, Art. Have some faith.”

His face read: easier said than done.

Discussion and planning was always the hard bit. You had to convince your employer of what needed to be done. Art was hesitant about some things, after all it was a family business and a place he had grown up in. But for the most part he was willing to go along with some of your ideas.

Art started the clean up process by first putting away his stock and setting most of the mismatched shelves outside. Once that was taken care of you began ripping up the old carpet and ancient linoleum.

“I remember when my dad put that stuff down,” Art said from behind you.

You looked up, eyes covered by goggles and mouth surrounded by one of those thick industrial masks. “Oh really?”

Art gave you a look. “Is all that necessary?”

“You’d be surprised.” You stacked another chunk of the linoleum to the side. “Lots of debris and who-knows-what is under these old floors. Decades of dirty shoes, dust, skin, and life are stored here.”

Art’s grimace deepened. “Skin?”

“Oh yeah, we shed like mad,” you laughed. “If you have dust in your house you can be assured it came from you!”

Art looked perturbed by this revelation but he continued in moving stock to the back and other store property outside.

Once the flooring was removed, you accessed what was underneath. It wasn’t marble or granite, but it was some type of stony tile that had existed when it was a gas station.

“Mom said it was inhospitable.”

You used a dust cloth to clean off a bit of the flooring. “But it’s easy to clean, and it’ll make the whole place appear brighter and bigger.” You turned and looked back at him, taking off the goggles. “It’ll be so much better in the long run. Plus! You won’t have to buy anything new except maybe a rug or two if you wanted.”

Art’s pinched brow was becoming the norm to see, but you could tell it was because the gears behind it were working so hard to process everything going on.

Once the tiles were cleaned and all the old flooring was hauled off to the dump, you started working on the walls, taking down slapdash shelving, and anything else hanging up. The old paint job, or jobs really, were layered on so thick and hadn’t been properly done. They had painted over the trim and electrical outlets, all of which needed to be replaced. The holes in the walls needed fixing too, and there were a few dents and scrapes from the years.

“You’re not hiring a painter?” Art asked one day.

You zipped up your coveralls and turned around to face him. “Not unless you want to shell out twice the money. Besides, I’m a good painter. A great painter even! Maybe not Rembrandt or anything, but I can handle a roller better than most.”

Art looked over your paint supplies. After days of you working on freeing the electric sockets and scraping the excess from the trim you could finally start working. You were painting the wall white, but you had found cheap sticker tiles to create a great accent wall, which could then be used for photo opportunities and special displays. Then another wall would also be painted white and used to display local artists and projects from the art class that Art taught.

“Mom always wanted to put wallpaper up,” Art murmured. “But said it wouldn’t be practical with everything we needed to hang up.”

There was a melancholy to Art’s face and tone as he said this. “What kind?” You asked as you poured your paint into the tray. “We could always find something close to what she had in mind for the office.”

Art glanced over his shoulder then shook his head. “I doubt I could afford it. I tried looking already.”

You put the roller into the paint, sliding it back and forth until it wasn’t too soupy. “Was this place your mom’s idea?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze going all about the store. “I can’t believe how empty it is now.”

“It’ll be full again in no time.” You gave him a reassuring smile when his amber eyes returned to you. “Do you have any pictures of your mother you would want to hang up?” you asked. “I can plan a special place for it.”

He huffed, seeming put off by this suggestion. “Excuse me. The smell of this paint is giving me a headache.” He walked off, stomping his feet a little as he went.

Art came back by the time you were finished with the first coat of white. You were sitting in front of the checkout desk, leaned back against it so your foot propped the door open. He stepped over your leg and looked at your work.

“The white really makes this place look…different,” he murmured.

“Don’t worry, there will be some color back soon enough,” you sighed. “Is your headache gone?”

Art nodded, leaning against the desk. “Sorry if I’ve been…obstinate.”

You waved it off. “I’m used to you.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been questioning and judging everything, all because I never really wanted to do this.”

You tilted your head up to look at him. “Then why are you?”

He let out that heavy, burdened sigh again. “Because it was in her will.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh.”

“She left me money, but only if I used a portion of it to renovate the old store. She said it was mine after all, it deserved to reflect the new generation. Even in death she was still hinting I get married.” He scoffed at this, but he still had a smile on his face.

“Sounds pretty motherly.” You stood up from the ground, standing beside him. Not feeling much taller than you did sitting beside his great size. You motioned to the front window. “Did she paint that?”

Art laughed. “No. I did. That’s why she kept it so long.”

Your smile beamed. “Really? That’s pretty adorable.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “For years upon years I’ve looked at that painting and wished every day she would wash it off and do something different. But I suppose her sentimentality was far too deep for that.”

“It’s a good painting,” you offered.

“I never thought she’d keep it so I barely tried,” he grunted and crossed his arms against his chest. “Boy, was I wrong.”

“Would you like to paint the new display? I was planning on just hanging a new sign and leaving the window clean.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

You patted his arm, and his eyes darted down to your hand, his brows unpinching for that one moment.

“I’ll wait till you decide then.” You stepped away from him, but his eyes still lingered on where you had touched him.

A few days later, as you were working on putting the sticker tile onto the wall, Art came from the back and offered you a ticket.

“A friend of mine has a gallery showing tonight. He gave me two tickets so I thought-” He hesitated and cleared his throat.

“How fancy is the affair?” You asked.

“Nothing too fancy. I mean, dress up, but not like black tie event or anything.” He cleared his throat again. “I was going to get dinner at my favorite restaurant since it was close by if you wanted to come.”

It clicked and you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed and your mouth started to go dry. “Oh. Sure.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “If that’s the case, maybe we should go in together. You know? Save the earth and stuff.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Smart idea. How about I pick you up tonight. Say…around six? Since the gallery is at eight?”

You nodded, biting down on your lip. “Yeah. Perfect. That should give me enough time to get ready after work.”

Art turned awkwardly away then back towards you. “Oh I uh, I guess I should get your address.” You traded info and the rest of the day went by in a jerky, tense sort of way.

That evening you waited in your living room until you heard from Art. You were wearing your favorite dress, and had even gotten your next door neighbor to do your makeup. You got his message and went downstairs to meet him at the front door.

Art was dressed nice in a dark purple suit and he had his long hair slicked back and tied into a bun. He didn’t have on his glasses, which surprised you. His eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Wow, you look great!” He said, a touch breathless.

You blushed and smiled. “Thanks. You look pretty great too. I’m not used to seeing you without your glasses.”

“Yeah, contacts tonight,” he said shyly. He then took your hand and led you to his car.

The restaurant was nice, the two of you had a clumsy start to it, but eventually you both started having an in depth conversation about color. From there, you both laughed and joked around, having a good time with great food and even better wine.

From there you walked to the gallery, meeting his friend then roaming through the show. Her artwork was lovely, but you noticed Art’s pinch brow had returned.

“A lot more nudes than I expected,” he whispered.

“I think it’s nice,” you replied. “I can see what her intent with the motif is. How it’s classic, it's natural, but also subversive.” You turned to Art, noticing him fidgeting and adjusting himself.

“Yes. I understand what she is doing,” he muttered. “I must have had just a little too much wine I think.”

You smiled at him, chuckling as your cheeks grew warm.

The car windows were fogged over, and in the dark all you could do was touch. His kisses felt rough but intimate. His tusks brushed against your skin, making your shiver. Every so often the darkness was halted by the motion light of the parking lot turning on. You’d still for a moment, then continue on with your youthful antics.

“We should stop.”

“We should.”

“Why aren’t we?”

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You kissed Art and breathed, looking into his eyes while you clasped your hands around his face. Maybe it was the wine or the nudes on display, maybe it was weeks of working so close and holding back so long.

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You smiled at him, kissing him again while his hands moved below. Your panties were pushed aside, his zipper brushed against your thigh. Big. Oh my god it was big!

You gasped softly and he stilled, watching your expression. You eased over him, taking as much of Art as you could stand. You pressed your palms to the roof of the car for balance, his strong hands kneaded into your thick thighs.

“Aren’t we a bit too old for this?” he breathed.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.” Your laughter turned into moaning. Maybe you were both a bit too old for this, but you’d never had so much fun before! He pressed deeply inside you, and his hands couldn’t stop touching your body. He roamed over the soft curves, and plump form, his desire seeming to grow the more he did.

The next morning you came into work, seeing Art standing in the middle of the room. You held your breath, wondering if it was all a wonderful dream. He turned and smiled, his thick glasses back in place.

“Hi” he said breathlessly.

Your smile bloomed. “Hi.”

Art motioned to the desk. “I brought coffee.”

“I see that.” You smiled and took a cup he offered.

He sighed then laughed and you laughed. “So uh…last night.”

“I liked your friend’s gallery. It was very nice. I also liked your favorite restaurant.” You took a sip of the coffee, testing it before you added anything.

Art nodded, his gaze drifted until it fell back onto you. “Is that all?”

You smiled over your coffee cup. “No. Just barely.” You looked into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate work topic.”

“Not exactly but uhm…I just wanted to check.” His eyes darted over you. “Were we really too old for that?”

You laughed and cupped your hand over your mouth. “A little. But I’m not too sore. Are you?”

“No. But I would prefer somewhere much comfier next time.” he leaned in close and you closed your eyes, accepting his kiss and the touch of his tusks against your cheeks.

“Yes, it would be nice.” You saw he had paints and brushes set on the front desk. “What’s this for?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I thought I’d paint the window. I got a bit of inspiration last night.” He grinned your way. “Plus, I think mom would like to see how I’ve improved.”

You grinned. “I’ll be very excited to see how you work. Outside a car at least.”

[donatellawritings]

cherry - subtle body - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language, age-gap

song: baby boy by childish gambino

4:15AM. Richie was the first to wake up, following the fast-paced events that had taken place the night prior - and he would be lying, if he said that he didn’t love it. The shrill of his alarm was enough to cause you to stir, but not enough to wake you as he carefully reached over you, silencing the alarm before taking a moment to soak it all in, to soak you all in. He gently pulled his arm out from under you, pressing a kiss to the top of your hair, before standing from the bed. Richie didn’t want to leave you, but he had to - he’d promised his daughter, the absolute apple of his eye, that he would take her to school, before he had to leave for work.

Running his calloused hand over his face with a huff, Richie collected his slacks from the floor, sliding them up his legs, without buttoning them. Picking up his dress-shirt that laid beside your vanity, Richie looked over to you, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest as you peacefully slept. It took everything in Richie to not crawl back into your bed and hold you in his arms, yet he remained resilient as he buttoned the cuffs of the shirt, proceeding to button up the shirt.

Smoothing a hand down against his short hair, Richie scanned the environment of your room, should he write you a note? Deciding against it, Richie walked towards the bed, leaning down to kiss the side of your head, before grabbing his phone.

Now making his way to your bathroom, Richie opened the cabinet underneath the sink, searching for a spare toothbrush, toothpaste, anything he could use to freshen his breath. Coming up unsuccessful, Richie pulled at the mirror that was mounted on your wall, the prescribed-pill bottle that sat on one of the shelves catching his eye. Sure, he was prescribed medication for the demons that dwelled in his mind, but knowing that they plagued your mind too caused an ache in his chest. Shaking away the thoughts, Richie’s eyes fell on the travel-sized bottle of mouth wash that sat on the center shelf.

Thank fuckin’ god.

Using over half of the bottle, Richie poured the blue liquid into his mouth, throwing his head back with a gargle, before spitting into the sink, briefly allowing a quick stream of water to wash away the remaining mouthwash that lingered against the porcelain bowl of the sink. Closing the mirror, Richie took a quick glance over of himself.

Craning his neck to the side, Richie exhaled through his nose as he looked at the three scratches that tainted his skin, courtesy of your nails, “fuck,” he groaned, running his hand over the wounds before exiting the bathroom.

Making his way to the living room, Richie snatched his leather jacket off of the arm of your sofa, sliding his arms through in a fluid motion, before he exited your apartment, making sure to shut your front door softly, not wanting to wake you.

Once in the hallway, Richie unlocked his phone, typing a quick text message to you as he awaited the elevator.

taking the kid 2 school. call me when ur awake

dinner on me tonight

-

Richie loved spending time with his little girl, the mere two hours they’d spend together whenever he’d take her to school, never truly fulfilling him. It always seemed as though he’d have little Eva singing her heart out one minute, then, pulling up alone to the back parking lot of The Bear. It was now 7:32AM as Richie’s phone rang.

The sight of your name flashing across his phone screen caused Richie to clear his throat, before accepting the call and bringing the phone to his ear, “Hi, sweetheart,” he speaks, a hint of excitement now apparent in his usually stoic voice.

You turnover, the sound of your shuffling now heard over the other side of the phone, “Hi,” you rasped, your voice laced with sleep, “I miss you,” you added.

Fuck, Richie leaned his head back against the headrest of his driver’s seat as his eyes closed for a second, he was so fucking into you, it hurt.

“I know, pretty girl, I, uh,” he forced out a breathy chuckle, “I miss you too.”

“You owe me dinner,”you teased playfully, your laughing echoing through the phone, “and a proper sleepover.”

Richie rubbed his fingers over his eyebrows, a goofy grin playing on his lips, “I owe you a new mouthwash too,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” you questioned, “then I’ll have to get an extra toothbrush for when you stay the night,” you commented, more so to yourself than to Richie.

Richie stilled, a silence falling over his car as he took a breath. You made him nervous - I mean, fuck, it usually took months, for some even years, to witness Richie’s softer side, yet here you were, knowing him for not even a fraction of that, making him blush and plan cutesy sleepover dates. Shit, the last time Richie had his own toothbrush for overnight stays was at his ex-wife’s house.

Richie remained caught up in his trailing thoughts, until your voice cut in, “You still there?” You asked, your voice now pitched higher with worry.

“Shit, sorry baby, uh yeah,” Richie blinked, “yeah, we should definitely have an extra toothbrush - I’ll have to get you one at my place,” he breathed out.

Noticing your silence, Richie decided to take hold of the conversation, “Listen, m’gonna come get you around six? I got us a table at this fuckin’ place downtown, it’s uh, real fancy.”

The sound of the faucet running can be heard on your end, followed by soft brushing, “Y’brushing your teeth over there?” Richie asked.

“Yes, I have class at eleven,” you answered, your words muffled from the toothbrush that sat between your teeth.

“Shit, which class is that?” Richie asked.

Water can be heard hitting the sink, “Film, thankfully,” you sighed, “it’s my favorite.”

Richie knew you were a film major, you wanted to write scripts. If you weren’t on the phone with him, or doing assignments, you were usually studying watching a movie. You’d watched movies intently, paying attention to every minor detail, always anxious to see if it would be referenced in the future.

It made Richie proud, knowing that his girl was going for her education, and was excited to use it. You’d be graduating from college in a few months, Richie grew excited at the thought of you donning your degree, looking beautiful as ever in a cap and gown.

“I know, baby,” he muttered, “you’re so fuckin’ smart.”

“Thank you, Richie,” you blushed, “um, I really enjoyed last night, by the way,” you added, the screech of the faucet stopping filling Richie’s ears.

The scratches on Richie’s neck grew warm, a smirk tugging at his lips as he recalled the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, “So did I- I got the scratches on my neck to prove it,” he teased, chuckling as you gasped.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-” you began to panic.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he spoke, “it’ll give the guys something to talk about at work.”

Richie was being a cocky fuck. He loved that he could indirectly show you off with the scratches on his neck, wanting to hold off on introducing you to his family coworkers, until things were steady between you two.

“Alright, well I gotta start heading in, okay?” He sighed.

“Okay, have a good day at work, Richie,” you beamed.

“Thank you, sweetheart - I’ll see you at six.”

“See you at six.”

-

Richie made his way through the main dining room and kitchen, mentally taking note of any upstanding flaws that needed to be corrected prior to opening. This usually took him anywhere around one to two hours, depending on how meticulous he’d decided he needed to be that day.

“Richie, good morning, papa!” Tina greeted, her signature wide grin on full display as she approached Richie.

“What’s goin’ on, T?” He responded, pulling the woman in for a kiss to her cheek.

Tina cocked her head to the side, “Woah, what the fuck happened to you,” she questioned, reached her hand towards the scratches that peeked out from beneath the collar of Richie’s dress-shirt.

Richie smiled, softly pulling away from Tina, “S’nothing, uh, how was the drive here this morning,” he attempted to deflect, refusing to make eye contact with the woman in front of him.

Tina scoffed, “I’ll tell you all about my drive in, when you tell me about those marks on your neck.”

Richie shoved his hands into his pockets, with a huff. Richie considered Tina to be a confidant of his, the older woman being one of the closes people to him, due to their years of friendship and history.

So, naturally, he caved, “Just a girl I’ve been seeing recently, y’know?”

Tina nodded, her eyebrows raised, “Ah, and what is this “girl” like?”

“She’s beautiful, I mean, T, she’s a fuckin’ knockout,” Richie rambled, “she’s Puerto Rican-”

Tina gasped, nudging Richie’s arm, “A latina? Look at you, Richie.”

“Yeah, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, she’s good, y’know?” Richie praised, shyly bringing his gaze to Tina as she cradled the side of his face.

“I’m happy for you.”

-

The hours of the day came and went as Richie found himself leaned against the hood of his car as he waited for you to come downstairs. He was thankful to have gotten out of work early enough to make a quick pit stop at his apartment to shower and brush his teeth, not wanting to take you out without being the most pristine and prepared version of himself. He’d even made sure to bring a small bag of clothes and toiletries in the backseat of his car as a ‘just in-case’.

There was a part of Richie that ached to know how you did, to know how you’d manage to seem as though you had it all together, despite being in the same boat as him. Richie wouldn’t be the one to bring up your inner workings, he’d figured that hed let you come to him, that is, if you ever wanted to even tell him about your internal battles.

The hum of his phone vibrating in his pocket jolted Richie out of his thoughts, “shit,” he muttered.

sorry for taking so long … wanna come up?

Richie nodded to himself, a sigh leaving himelf as he opened the door to the backseat of his car, grabbing ahold of the drawstring bag that sat neatly on the seat. Closing the car door with a huff, Richie add his way into your apartment building, his stomach churning with concern - something was off with you.

You’d been beaming about this date, since Richie first brought it up. Shit, it had been the last thing you’d spoken about, before you fell asleep on his chest last night. I mean, yeah, Richie shared the same sentiment, he’d felt like a teenager going on his first date, again, but it brought a warmth to his chest knowing and seeing first-hand how excited you were.

Now in the main lobby of the building, Richie impatiently slapped the elevator button, blankly staring at the elevator door that had yet to open.

Richie got lost in his own mind as he wracked through what changed within you. Was the age-difference too much for you? Were you having cold feet? Were you going to end things? Did you not want to be seen with him? Fuck, it had only been about two minutes since Richie read your text and he was already driving himself insane with assumptions and differing conclusions. So much so, that Richie didn’t even realize that he’d subconsciously already made his way into the elevator and to the fourth floor.

Richie rushed to your door, softly knocking his knuckles against the heavy door, “S’me, sweetheart!” He called out sweetly.

You were quick to open the door, Richie’s heart sinking to his ankles as you answered the door with tear-soaked eyes, “hi Richie,” you squeaked, your voice broken.

“Hey, hey -what’s going on?” He asked, following you inside your apartment.

You were dressed for tonight’s occasion: a skintight black dress that barely reached your mid-thigh, black pantyhose concealing the skin of your legs. Your hair was curled, flowing down your back loosely as you stood barefoot, turning to face Richie.

You let out a shaky breath of frustration as you walked into Richie’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Richie knew that he sucked when it came to situations like this. You see, he’d become accustomed to letting his frustrations out with a string of profanities, and a cigarette, and maybe even a fistfight. So, he settled with doing the one thing that he knew he couldn’t manage to fuck up: hold you in his arms and simply listen to what you had to say.

You tried to speak, your words jumbled as you spoke directly into Richie’s chest. Slightly leaning away from you, Richie craned his neck down to get a good look at you, “I can’t hear you when you’re talking straight into me, baby.”

You pulled yourself out of Richie’s arms with a roll of your eyes, you hated letting your guard down, “I just don’t know what I am fucking doing, I mean,” you laughed, “you are a fucking father, y-you were married, and me? I have no idea what the fuck I am doing.”

Richie remained silent, he could tell that this was something that weighed heavy on your conscience. So, he decided to take it all in, only jump in when he felt he had to.

And you continued.

“I’m twenty-three years old, Richie, a-and what if this is fun for you in the beginning, but then you realize that you should be with someone who has it together?” You questioned aloud.

Richie remained silent.

And you continued.

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t even go one day without taking these fucking pills, isn’t that so fucked?” You shake your head with a smile of disbelief.

Richie remained silent - this was killing him.

And so, you continued.

“I just- you should go home, okay? Y-you can go home and forget about me, forget about this, and you can be with someone who can give you what you need-”

Richie could no longer remain silent, so he laughed.

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about,” he spat with a shrug of his shoulders.

Richie could feel the frustration quickly boiling into anger, a frustrated anger that burned in his chest. He’d thought he made it clear just how much he fuckin’ liked you, yet here he was, feeling as though he was being backed into a corner - forced to defend himself.

”Let me just tell you somethin’, sweetheart,” he began, “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ standing here, listening to you say shit that makes no fuckin’ sense.”

The blue-eyed man decided that he wasn’t done, “You’re not the only fuckin’ person going through shit, I just don’t take the fuckin’ easy way out and run away when shit gets scary, but hey, maybe you’ll learn that when you grow up.”

You froze in place, letting out a scoff.

In the deep part of Richie’s psyche, he knew that he shouldn’t have brought up your age against you, but fuck, everything you were saying was so far from the truth. He was hurt that you’d questioned his motives, so he resorted to his cutting words to try and get through to you.

Wordlessly, you walked away from Richie, in the direction of your bedroom.

“Fuck,” Richie cursed himself as he watched you disappear into the hallway.

-

You left your bedroom door open, grabbing the oversized graphic tee that rested on your vanity, before slipping it over the tight dress that uncomfortably clung to your body, tugging it down your legs by the hem. Kicking the dress to the side, you took hold of the headphones that laid on your bed, placing them on your head, potentially blocking out the noise of Richie leaving your apartment.

But, he never left.

In fact, Richie locked the front door of your apartment, making sure to turn off the lights in your living room, before he made his way towards your bedroom, drawstring bag in hand. Fuck the reservation, fuck the fancy outfits, all Richie could focus on was the fact that he’d hurt his girl.

Richie found you on your bed, seated with your legs crossed, larger headphones on your head as you forced yourself to keep your eyes trained forward.

Standing beside your bed, Richie dropped his bag onto the floor as he gently reached for your headphones, carefully removing them from your head, “Can y’look at me, pretty girl?” He questioned softly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed, his hands folded over his lap.

Your eyes met his, god, he absolutely hated seeing you cry, let alone bring the reason for your tears.

“C’mere,” he beckoned.

You were hesitant, but nevertheless, you had somehow found yourself straddling Richie’s hips, there was no sexual urges behind your decision and Richie loved it. You had every right to be upset with him, yet you sat on him, solely for the sake of needing to be as close to him as possible.

Richie’s hand softly held your face, “Didn’t want to make you cry, baby, I just-” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “I just - you’ve got this shit all wrong.”

You nodded, wanting him to explain - you needed the reassurance.

Richie’s lips softly pecked yours, before he continued, “I don’t give a fuck if you got your shit together or not - I mean, fuck, baby, I don’t even have my shit in order,” he chuckled.

“But what if you get bored of me?” You mumbled, earning an exaggerated eye roll, coupled with an obnoxious scoff from Richie.

“Not gonna happen, I’d have to be the world’s biggest jagoff if that ever happened,” He dismissed politely, pulling one of your hands that laid interlocked with the other, replacing that hand with his own.

“You don’t think I’m too young? You said that I have to grow u-”

“I was being a fuckin’ asshole, alright?” Richie countered, “Yeah, you’re younger, a lot younger, but you are doing good for yourself, yeah? You’re finishing college, I didn’t even make it in to fuckin’ college.”

Richie’s hands softly grab your face as he leans his forehead against yours, “M’not that great at this, sweetheart, but I want to try, for you,” he coaxed.

“I’m just scared, Richie.” you confessed.

“I’m scared too, just let me- let me take care of you,okay? I promise, m’not going to hurt you, just give me a chance, okay?”

You nodded, “okay.”

The two of you were terrified. This was uncharted territory for the both of you - but you both wanted this to work, you both needed it to work. So, you both sat, Richie holding you closely to his chest as you steadied your breathing to match his.

“I owe you a dinner,” you whispered.

Richie exhaled a short laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He was falling for you, fast, and what scared him the most was knowing that he’d go to pretty deep lengths, just to make sure that you always knew that.

-

and that’s it for part 4 of cherry, so sorry if this is too long, I really just wanted a part that focus on Richie’s inner-workings and his thoughts, I hope you all enjoyed!

[nerdy-novelist017]

Borrowed Bites (Eric Draven x Rebel!Reader pt 2)

Added another part since the last one was received so well! Thank you for the kind words and appreciation! I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts on this part! 💕

Eric Draven Masterlist

Word Count- 2.9k+

Summary- He just couldn't get away from you. You were corrupting his routine, his life, his thoughts.

Eric sought refuge in the library, a quiet sanctuary where the weight of the facility’s sterile air seemed to lift, just a little. The room was a cocoon of silence, the faint scent of old, yellowed books filtering through his senses. Here, amid the shelves of dusty volumes, he could be transported to somewhere else, somewhere where the walls were not closing in on him little by little every day. 

He was supposed to be assigned to cleaning the room for the next hour, but he was finished within the first 30 minutes, so now he sat in the aisle, leaning up against the shelf. He was lost in the pages of an old art book, the kind that made him ache for life outside of these walls. He was staring at a particular page of a charcoal drawing of a horse, the scene bringing back his own past in a swirl of paint strokes, charcoal lines, the delicate dance of light and dark. 

But that moment was shattered by the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching him. His heart sank, a heavy stone sinking into the pit of his stomach. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The air around him seemed to buzz with a familiar energy, one he had been trying – and failing – to avoid. 

“You hiding out in here, artist boy?” your voice broke through the stillness of the room, a playful tone that underscored something sharper, something that pricked at his defenses. 

Eric’s eyes glanced up, catching just a brief look at your face above him before dropping back to the book in his lap. He knew by just the few times of your interactions since your arrival to the facility a week ago, that his disinterest would not be enough to make you go away. No, it seemed that you could not take a hint, no matter how obvious it was. 

“This place is a real snoozefest,” you said as you lowered yourself on the floor in front of him, sitting cross-legged. You leaned forward on your hands, trying to peer at his book. “I didn’t peg you for the library type.”

“It’s quiet here,” he muttered, his voice almost devoid of emotion. “That’s why I like it here.”

“And here I thought you came for the thrilling company,” you teased, your voice taking on a hint of something more – a curiosity perhaps, or an understanding that he didn’t want you to have. 

“Shouldn’t you be off trying to seduce the guards?” he bit back, referencing your words from his first unwanted interaction with you. 

You grinned mischievously as you brushed a strand of your unruly hair out of your face. “I’m still working on that, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not interested,” his fingers tightened around the edges of his book as he spoke with a certain level of finality, attempting to completely sever the connection you were trying to forge. 

“Not interested in what?” you pressed, tilting your head in a way that Eric came to understand as you attempting to figure him out, like you were trying to put together the puzzle pieces of his mind. 

He hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He didn’t know how to answer, how to articulate the mind-jumbling swirl of emotions inside him. He finally grumbled, “In whatever game you’re playing.”

A brief flash of hurt flickered across your face, so quick that he almost missed it. But then you recovered with that infuriating grin. “Who says I’m playing a game?”

Uncomfortable with that reaction, his gaze fell back down to his book, as if the words would allow him an escape of whatever trap you were setting. “Just leave me alone.”

But of course, that wasn’t enough to deter you. You weren’t the type to back down so easily. Instead, you leaned back against the opposite shelf from him, folding your arms as if preparing for a long conversation he had no interest in having. 

“You know,” you started, your voice a touch softer now, “you’re not as invisible as you might think.”

Eric’s jaw tightened, the words hitting him hard. He had spent so long trying to be just that – invisible, a ghost passing through unnoticed. But you saw him, and you wouldn’t look away. 

“I’m not hiding,” he retorted quietly, but the words sounded hollow even to himself. 

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Your question hung heavy in the air between you, a challenge he wasn't sure how to meet. 

He forced himself to look up at you, your direct gaze sending his heart to his stomach. He refused to admit it, refused, but something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame, something about your eyes that refused to look away. 

“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice low. 

You didn’t answer immediately, your gaze evocative as you studied him silently, as if searching for something beneath the surface. “I want to know you,” you said finally, the simplicity of the words cutting through him. 

Eric stared at you, his mind racing to find a response to that strange statement, something that would push you away, make you see that there was nothing worth knowing in him. But all he could manage was, “Why?”

“Because,” you said as you leaned forward slightly, your voice barely above a whisper, “you’re different. I can tell.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to respond to the sincerity in your voice. The way you seemed to genuinely care unsettled him, the way you saw him and refused to let him fade into the background like he wanted. 

“You don’t know me,” he said after a moment, his words heavy with frustration and something else that he didn’t want to examine too closely. It was the same words he had told you a week ago when you first spoke to him and flipped his world upside down, but he couldn’t find anything else to say to you. You didn’t know him, that was true. But you definitely wanted to fit yourself into his life, to know him as he knew himself. 

“I think you’re worth figuring out.” A small smile tugged at your lips.

He wanted to scoff, to brush off your words as naive and misguided, but there was something in your tone, in the way you were looking not just at him but through him, made it impossible to miss. You were being sincere, and that shook him to his core.

“I’m not,” he retorted, his voice weaker than he intended. “I’m just another screw-up, just like everyone else in here.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re more than that.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, didn’t know how to process the unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest. All he knew was you were getting way too close, digging too deep into feelings he’d locked away a long time ago. He reached for the book, flipping it open to a random page in a futile attempt to avoid your intense gaze. But the words on the page blurred, the images that had once brought him comfort now seemed distant, unreachable. 

Before you could say anything else, the sound of the door opening again startled both of you, shattering the temporary bubble you were enclosed in, and Eric looked up just in time to see a guard round the corner of the aisle, his heavy footsteps thudding on the worn carpet. He instantly sat up straighter, his heart racing slightly when the guard’s eyes caught sight of the two of you. 

“What are you doing in here?” The guard’s voice was a harsh intrusion, his gaze narrowing between you like a hawk sizing up its prey. 

Eric shot you a nervous glance your way. To anyone else, your expression would have looked completely neutral as you regarded the man nearing you both, but Eric could see the tension in your jaw, the way it ticked ever so slightly, betraying the anger brewing just beneath the surface. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied casually, almost dismissive. But the guard’s wasn’t in the mood for games. He cut you off before you could say anything more.

“You know the rules,” he barked, his voice echoing in the stillness of the library. “No fraternizing.”

You put your hands up in mock surrender, a gesture that might have seemed playful if not for the sarcasm dripping in your voice as you replied, “Yeah, right. God forbid anyone make any friends in here.”

The guard’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing to slits. Without warning, he grabbed your arm and yanked you to your feet with a roughness that made Eric flinch  “You’re not here to make friends. You’re here to get sober and stop being a burden and a piece of shit to society.” 

The harsh words hung in the air like poison, their words seeping into the cracks the moment. Eric felt a surge of panic in his chest as he snapped the book shut, the sound like a gunshot in the tense silence. He stood quickly, instinctively knowing it was best not to argue, not to escalate the situation further. Just follow the rules, he told himself, a mantra he clung to since he got here. But he knew you well enough now that you wouldn’t �� couldn't – do that.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel about it,” you shot back, your voice clouded with defiance. 

“You think this is funny?” The guard hissed, his voice dropping to a menacing low. “Keep running that mouth and you’ll find out just how serious we are.”

For a brief moment, Eric saw a flicker of something in your eyes – a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear – but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same defiance that both worried and awed him. 

Eric felt the weight of the moment bearing down on the room, the oppressive atmosphere of the facility closing in. He knew he should say something, do something to alleviate the tension, but the fear of the repercussions, of going back to solitary confinement, held him back, rendering him silent and still. 

“Come on,” the guard snapped, pulling you towards the door. “We’re done here.”

As you were dragged away, you cast one last look over your shoulder to Eric, and he could see the mix of emotions in your eyes – anger, frustration and something that resembled regret. And Eric’s chest tightened at the sight because you weren’t just leaving as you always did. You were being taken away, and he was powerless to stop it. 

The door slammed shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening. Eric stood frozen, staring at the spot you occupied just moments before, his mind racing. He gripped the book in his hand with a white knuckle power as he realized he had let the guard take you without so much as lifting a finger, without saying a word. The realization twisted like a knife in his gut, a painful reminder of his own helplessness. 

*****

Eric didn’t see you for the rest of the day. He tried not to think about how he even noticed your lack of presence and especially how it made him feel. The day passed with the same level of dreadful monotony that he had been subjected to since the very first day he’d arrived in this hellhole. 

It wasn’t until lunchtime the next day until he saw you again. The cafeteria thrummed with the repeated sounds of everyday life here – the clatter of trays connecting, the gentle murmur of quiet conversation, the sporadic eruptions of laughter or from souls lost in their own struggles. Eric sat by himself at a table near the corner of the room, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of his tray as he picked at the array of bland, tasteless food before him. The harsh fluorescence above cast a stark, unforgiving light over everything, rendering the room devoid of any warmth. 

He was halfway through forcing another bite of the food when you suddenly materialized across the expanse of the bustling room. You slid into the seat across from him, a mirthful grin on your face. 

“Did you miss me, artist boy?” you asked with a tilt of your head, that signature smirk playing across your lips.

He wasn’t going to answer that, not even for himself. He averted his gaze to his tray instead, afraid that you would be able to read through his expressions as you so often did. That didn’t seem to bother you though because without hesitation (or permission) you reached over and swiped a roll from his tray, taking a bite as if it was casual. 

“Hey,” Eric protested softly, though his voice lacked any true anger, more like mild annoyance. In fact, he was actually relieved to see you, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. There was a brief moment last night as he lay awake in his bed going over the interaction of the library when he wondered if you had been locked in solitary for your actions. He didn’t think you had said or done anything to warrant such an offense, but you were unpredictable. He had no idea if you continued to fight, to mouth off after the guard dragged you away. Seeing you here in front of him was confirmation that, for once, you had refrained from doing anything to further your punishments here. 

“What?” you asked with a nonchalant shrug. “You weren’t eating it.”

Eric rolled his eyes, a silent gesture of exasperation. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You quipped as you leaned back in your seat, your gaze sweeping across the room as if you were just examining the scene before you, waiting patiently for something – anything – to disrupt the routine. 

He watched you for a moment, captivated by the restless energy that perpetually seemed to follow you. It was as though you were perched on the edge of some unseen cliff, ready to plunge off the side at any given moment. The near constant state of heightened alertness was both exhausting and irresistibly captivating for him, an anomaly that left him simultaneously drained and drawed in. 

“Why do you do that?” he asked suddenly, the question catching himself off guard, and he instantly wanted to take it back. 

“Do what?” you replied smoothly, not missing a beat. 

“Act like . . . I don’t know. Like nothing matters.”

You blinked at him, momentarily taken aback. Then you smiled and with a half shrug, responded, “Because it doesn’t. 

But Eric could see the flicker of something more profound, a bit sad even in your eyes, and it casted doubt in the authenticity of your words. 

“Right,” he muttered, his voice laced with skepticism. Your gaze left his and he took that as a sign of your wanting to drop the subject so he returned to his food, though his appetite was severely diminished. 

For a while, silence enveloped the two of you. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence, albeit still surrounded with the rest of the cafeteria buzz. When he glanced back up at you, he could see the sudden change in your eyes as you glanced about the room once again. He had witnessed that look before – one that usually preceded your reckless actions, the calm before the storm. 

“Don’t,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with caution.

You turned your attention back to him with a look of feigned innocence. “Don’t what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing,” Eric replied, his tone now carrying seriousness. 

A familiar spark of chaotic energy ignited in your eyes as you grinned. “What makes you think I’m planning something, Eric?”

“Because you always are.”

You giggled, clearly amused at his concern, and he tried to ignore the rush of butterflies that hit his chest at the sound of it. “Relax. I’m not about to blow up the place or anything.”

“That’s not comforting,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smile betrayed his true feelings. 

Before you could respond with yet another one of your signature quips, a guard ambled by, scanning the room with hawkish vigilance. You immediately straightened up, your playful grin fading as you donned a more neutral, guarded expression. 

As the guard continued his stroll, you leaned forward, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial low. “Meet me by the west wing storage closet after lunch.”

Your tone left no room for negotiation or refusal, but Eric hesitated, a storm of instincts battling within him, urging him to resist. But there was something in the way you looked at him – something that compelled him to nod reluctantly. 

You shot him a quick, satisfied smile before rising gracefully and sauntering away, leaving Eric alone once again with a whirlwind of emotions and a nagging feeling that he was about to be pulled into something he would regret. Yet, despite the better judgment that screamed caution, he knew he would go. Because as much as you exasperated him, left him bewildered, and sometimes even frightened him, there was a part of him that was irresistibly drawn to you. A part that yearned to unravel the mystery of why you were the way you were. 

"Fuck," he murmured under his breath.

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