#to be clear I have a day job so I can make my rent and regular expenses and bills

[ettawritesnstudies]

long story short: My short stories aren't selling as consistently as I hoped they would, and with publishing and wedding costs on the horizon, I'm hoping memberships will be a more effective way of making income, so I'm curious to see what people are most interested in seeing!

Tagging @abalonetea because I know you do patreon and that's similar so I'm curious to see what's worked for you in the past?

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[cheekios]

The streets are calling.

Eviction is imminent.

I have 5 days to raise $1275

I noticed alot of content surrounding homelessness especially in San Fransisco and Seattle. My biggest fear is being filmed without my consent and being plastered over social media because someone wanted to make a documentary surrounding homelessness without actually helping.

Goal: $1275

CA: $HushEmu

PP: emuslayter@gmail.com

I have nothing (Whitney Houston)

The smallest catalyst can occur to where someone can find themselves homeless. In my case it was my glasses breaking. Not having a back up pair. Not having insurance. Which caused me to be unable to work and drive. Resulting in me losing my job. A piece of plastic was my downfall ultimately.

I need community effort to stay housed. Even $1-2 for everyone who views this clears the goal. Please interact if you truly have nothing to spare. Reblogs ≠ do not equate to goals being met so please ask if curious wether goal has been met.

Update: 4/30/24

1200 reblogs and zero donations. I have 4 days to raise rent before I am given a notice to vacate.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone donated my reblog amount and saved me from the streets.

Update: May 1st. No donations. I have 48 hours to come up with $1000

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

@beebeechaos

@ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword

@quakeroaksguy

@waves-against-a-cliff

@depressed-but-make-it-cute

[cakelitter]

Apple Of My Eye Older! Leon x Fem! Reader (oneshot)

warnings: angst, fingering, oral (f recieve), p in v, daddy kink, makeup sex

summary: Leon and reader get into their first argument, but Leon apologizes in his own way.

words: 3.1k

a/n: i'm writing so much older Leon fics but this man lives in my head rent fucking free omg

Everything is going to shit.

Words were said, things were done, that all cut through you like a knife. This is your first actual argument, not just a simple misunderstanding or a silly disagreement. But a full-on fight.

To rewind, you and Leon were supposed to have a nice dinner date, romantic and sweet. Something the two of you haven’t had the chance to do since he’s busy all the time. You got ready, all dolled up and looking the best you’ve ever looked. You wore his favorite dress, painted your nails his favorite color, put on the kind of make up he likes. You wanted this to be special, a night to remember.

But he forgot, leaving you sitting at that table in the restaurant for an hour and 37 minutes to be exact, like an idiot. No text explaining why he was late, and wouldn’t pick up his phone either. By the time he arrived you had already downed most of the bottle of wine the two of you were supposed to share, and was feeling full from the sympathetic stares the waiter and other guests were giving you.

Worst part, he didn’t even apologize. No “Sorry baby, I had something come up at work” no nothing, just sat down, looking at you like what he did was normal. You decided to suck it up and continue on with the night. Trying to be the bigger person even though he’s twice your age and your size. Sure, you still had a bit of an attitude, some short answers, and not clawing to get closer to him like usual, but you have the right to.

Apparently not, cause he decides to get all pissy with you. Giving you glares from across the table, and in general being petty. It was clear to you, and to everyone around, that your nights wasn’t going great. You both end up leaving the restaurant after 30 minutes of his arrival, neither of you finishing the meals you ordered.

The car ride back to you shared apartment was quiet, but the tension was no joke. Instead of the normal sexual tension you both experience after these usual dates, or even just being around each other in general. There was the tension that made your heart sink and your throat tight. His eyes fixated on the road, both hands on the wheel gripping it firmly till his knuckles turned white, instead of having one in between your thighs like usual. You can’t tell who’s ignoring who, or who is more pissed at the other person more. Your mouth didn’t utter a peep, when shaky breaths and pleading words should be escaping it at this point. You hoped that once you get home, the two of you would have cooled down a bit and would talk it out like you always do.

Yet again you were wrong. As soon as you arrived back home, he slams the door behind the two of you. And starts to speak through gritted teeth.

“What he fuck was that whole fuss about?”

Turning around, you don’t know if you’re more shocked at the tone he is addressing you with or the fact that he genuinely doesn’t see what he did wrong.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that you left me there for almost two hours without explaining even why?!”

He scoffs, fucking scoffs. “What, am I supposed to give you reports on everything I do now? What I’m doing and who I’m with?”

“Leon, you can not be serious right now. All I wanted was for you to simply give me a heads up telling me that you were gonna be late.”

“Well, I was clearly busy. I’m sorry that I have a real job and responsibilities that I have to deal with.” Why is he acting like you don’t know that? like this is new information to you? In the past 2 years of your relationship, you have understood how demanding Leon’s job is, and have always been patient.

Going on missions for days and not being able to contact you. You get it, he should focus on his mission and getting home safe. Canceling plans with you last minute cause he was needed at his work. That’s fine, he can’t control it anyways.

But he always made it up for you. Taking the next day off to spend time with you, consoling you, spoiling you with gifts if he couldn’t be there physically with you. He has never gotten angry at you or talked to you in this tone before. He has never refused to apologize, and always tried to reach a solution. But now he is choosing to argue with you.

“You know how much I respect your job and how patient I am when it comes to this topic. But I can’t always brush off the feeling of neglect sometimes.”

“Well maybe you need to stop being so fucking needy.”

Ouch.

He always had loved it when you were needy though, loving the way you’d sit on his lap and shower him with kisses as he worked, loving how you needed to be close to him on the couch while watching a movie, loving the pout you do when he leaves for another mission.

You compose yourself, and start thinking of why he’s acting this way. Is he having a bad day? Did he get bad news before he came to see you?... Is he done dealing with you?

The last possibility makes your heart drop as you try to shoo that evil thought away, but it sticks like cigarette smoke on clothes.

“Are you having a bad day? Is there something bothering you?” your voice is gentle and understanding, trying to deescalate the situation. But he replies with the same harsh tone.

“Yeah, I’m tired of constantly dealing with your bullshit.”

…

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair and looking away from your face. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Feeling so stupid, just staring at him, praying he tells you that he didn’t mean that, that this was all a mistake. To pull you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear like he always does when you’re upset.

He was always so gentle with you, from his actions to his words. Scared to be too rough with you while play fighting as if you’re going to break. He constantly reminded you of how much you meant to him, how much he missed you on missions, and how much he couldn’t wait to be with you again. His sacred treasure, the apple of his eye, the love of his life.

But now, it all came crashing down with the venomous words he’s saying. Dropping your glass welded heart from what feels like a 13-story building, then proceeding to run over whatever survived. The burning sensation in your throat is starting to get hard to ignore, you try fight it off but to no use.

“What, are you gonna cry now like you always do?”

And that’s all it takes for tears that have been brimming in your eyes to finally break free dropping down to your cheek as your lip quivers. Yes, you are crying like you always do. Feeling so humiliated, tears blur your vision as you turn around and walk to your room shutting the door behind you.

You’re so upset. Sadness mixing with anger creating a disastrous cocktail causing your throat to burn like hell. And to make things worse, you can’t even go to the person that knows how to comfort you best, cause they are the reason why you feel like this in the same place.

Laying down on your side of the bed, tears are practically soaking your pillow. You’ve been crying for what feels like hours now and you’re sure your eyes are going to be swollen as fuck the next day. Multiple sobs, tears, and sniffles later, you fall asleep. Pass out is a better word for it actually. Only to be awaken by a knock on the bedroom door. You ignore it, and close your eyes again.

“Baby, please, let’s talk.”

You ignore again, hoping he takes the hint and leaves you alone. But he doesn’t. He opens the door slowly and looks over to your huddled figure laying on the bed. You’re clearly cold, legs tucked close to your chest, and your face nuzzled into your pillow as much as possible. He sighs, walking over to the bed, and lays down next to you with you back facing him. He stares at you for a bit, knowing that you’re not asleep, he knows your breathing a little too well. He scooches over placing an arm around you, and places a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“I’m sorry baby, I was being an asshole.” He whispers, planting another kiss.

You don’t reply, but you do open your eyes. Noticing that, he continues.

“I was just stressed from all the bullshit going on at work and… took it out on you. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have done that.”

…

“Those hurtful things, I don’t mean them. God, I don’t mean a single word I said.”

That last sentence was all it took for you to start crying again. But this time, those arms are around to pull you in. He turns you around and places you against his chest as you let it out. An arm is behind your back rubbing up and down soothingly, while the other helps getting your hair out of your face.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Are words he repeats in a tone juxtaposing the one he was using a couple of hours ago. This is the Leon you’re used to. Calm, and feels like home. The warmth of his body helps warm you up and the arm rubbing your back, helps ease your breathing back to normal. After a few minutes you calm down, and look up at him. He smiles kissing your forehead.

“Was Daddy mean to you earlier?” he asks and you nod.

“Want him to kiss it better?” you nod again.

He smiles softly and starts tenderly kissing your lips, your forehead, cheeks, and jaw.  Each kiss was full of affection and pure sincerity. You started sensing that warm feeling in your chest, heart beat regulating, and lips curling up into a smile as he kissed every single inch on your face. You’re not sure you quiet understand the science behind this technique and how he can manage to lift up your mood with a few kisses and his heart-warming voice. But it somehow always works.

However, can’t tell if it was the sudden change in your mood or his hot breath and soft lips on your face, but the wholesome warm feeling in your heart switched at one point, to heat pooling between your thighs. And soon enough you started being needy again.

“Daddy. Want more.” You muttered, making him stop momentarily to respond.

“Want what baby, you need to tell daddy what to do so he can help you.”

You start feeing a little shy to word it out for him. Normally he would keep you being a needy squirmy mess till you say it yourself. But he was already mean to you today, so it’s only fair to help his girl out.

“Want Daddy to kiss you somewhere else?”

“Mhm”

“Where?”

“My pussy.”

How could he say no to that face. Lips puffy, eyes glossy, and lashes wet from your tears. Humming in agreement, he places one final kiss on your lips and moves down between your thighs, spreading them open for him. You were still wearing your dress, so he was immediately greeted with the lace panties you wore for him. Running his finger up your cunt, he can already feel the dampness through the thin fabric.

“Damn baby, you wore all of this for me? God, I don’t deserve you.”

He says planting an opened mouth kiss on your clothed clit making you whine. Bunching up your dress, he grabs the hem of your panties sliding them down and shoving them in his pocket. He runs his tongue up your slit, and it feels warm as he tastes you. Spreading your cunt open with his fingers, his mouth starts sucking on your clit as shaky heavy breaths escape your mouth.

His blue eyes meet yours as he continues guzzle your pussy up while occasionally fucking his tongue into you. He laps up every single fluid that comes out, appreciating every drop. Eventually, he rewards you with one of his fingers penetrating inside of you and fucking into you at a slow pace as he pulls the hood of your clit back and continues sucking on your bundle of nerves.

Moments later he removes his mouth off of you, wanting to watch your expression as he sticks another finger into you. Your mouth opens slightly as a broken sound leaves your throat. His fingers were thick, much thicker than yours. The rough skin on them making your back arch at the sensation.

“So fucking pretty.”

You can’t tell if he’s addressing you or your dripping pussy as your eyes flutter shut when his palm makes contact with your cunt. He starts moving his digits in and out of you, mouth finding it’s way back to your clit once more. Your hips start squirming in place as he uses his other hand to hold you down in place. His digits then begin scissoring you open while his tongue flicks your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Amidst the intense feeling of pleasure, you grab his hair pulling his face towards your dripping cunt even more. Grabbing Daddy’s hair and not being gentle with it is against some of the rules the two of you have established. Leon is going above and beyond to make sure he doesn’t go bald, avoiding it like it’s the plague. Hence, pulling it, is something he would normally spank you for, fuck you roughly while pulling yours to make sure you always remember. But he’ll let it pass this time.

You start babbling, the pleasure fogging up your field of vision, and the ability to form a coherent sentence, but he knows your having a good time.

“Daddy, can I please cum?”

“Do whatever you wanna do sweetheart.” As soon as you get his permission, you reach your peak with a squeal, letting go of his hair and clutch instead on the white sheets beneath you. His fingers continue moving, easing your way back down from your high. And he eventually removes his fingers out of you, placing a final kiss on your clit before looking up at your blissed out expression.

He gets up, ready to run you a nice bath to relax, but you refuse.

“Want you.”

You say looking up at him. He smiles and replies.

“I don’t know baby. Don’t think it’s fair that you get punished for not behaving and I don’t.” You whine, a pout forming on your lips. Even though you just came, you fear that you’ll never satisfied till he’s deep inside you.

 You tug on his shirt, eyes pleading, batting your lashes at him the way you do, decreasing is chances of saying no to zero.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. Plus, that boner of yours looks pretty painful.” You retort, pointing at the way his dick is begging to be released out of his jeans.

“You sure?” You eagerly nod, and before you know it, your hands are already undoing his belt. He helps you out, taking his pants and shirt off while you strip out of your dress as well.

“How do you want me?” he asks as the two of you sit naked on the bed.

You put your finger on your chin, squinting your eyes as you think.

“On your back.”

He complies, resting his head against the pillow as you crawl over you him, placing a gentle peck on his mouth. Your legs straddle him, grabbing his dick and rubbing it up and down your leaky slit. He grits his teeth, eyes fixated at your motion before you start nudging it as your entrance.

You drop down on his length, making the two of you moan in unison as you bottom out on his dick, his hands involuntarily reaching over to grab the fat on the side of your hips. You don’t take too long to adjust thanks to his fingers warming you up earlier, and soon enough you start bouncing.

Placing a hand on his chest to balance yourself as you increase the pace while occasionally grinding your hips on his skin to get more friction on your clit. One of his hands leave your hips, making its way to your lips as you take two of his fingers into your mouth. He groans at the view in front of him.

“Fuckkk, such a good fucking girl.”

Moments later however, you start getting tired. Poor thing, doing all the work by yourself. You were always destined for princess treatment anyways.

“Getting tired?” he asks through heavy breaths, and you mindlessly nod.

Grabbing your hips once more, he plants his feet on the bed and grabs you pulling your body closer as he starts drilling into you. Your head falls back, all of that sadness you experienced before disappearing with each thrust of his hips. His dick feels amazing inside of you, hitting all of the sweet spots with each move.

The familiar sense of release starts approaching. The sound of skin slapping fills the room as you start chanting “daddy” over and over. You don’t even need anything from him, but he’s all your mind can think about.

“I’m right here, cum for me.” And you do. Your body convulses as sweet release takes over you. Leon moans from how tight your walls are gipping him. Dick throbbing inside of you as he fucks you through your release and starts chasing his. Picking up the pace even more, he feels himself getting closer and closer to his own climax.

“Where do you want it baby?” he asks through greeted teeth. You mind is complete mush at this point, completely and utterly cock drunk. “Inside please.”  Look at you, still using words like please and thank you even in this state.

He was hoping you would say that, he doubts he’ll make it in time to pull out anyways. Leon’s releases washes over his as he spurts his cum all over your walls, while crashing his lips into yours. You kiss him back, moaning as you feel so full and warm from the inside. His hips slow down and eventually reach a stop, and both of your bodies relax. Lips separating, you stare into each other’s eyes for a bit, one of his hands runs through your hair delicately, before cupping your cheek. You tilt your head, resting its weight on his palm as he strokes your face with his thumb.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

banner by @/anitalenia

[l4long-winded]

carmy is late on a payment and landlord!reader lets him fuck her as payment👀👀👀

you killed me with this one when you first sent this in, and i cannot go any longer not responding. i just really wanted to give you a solid piece of work, but longer stuff has escaped me these days since ive been working on an actual carmy fic!!! so sorry, anon, i ❤️ u

so let's talk about carmen's living situation. the bear is not doing well in terms of money. it may have scrutiny, and there's popularity, but it's not enough. in this, his financial issues are hitting a wall.

you, the pretty landlord who lent him a pen in your office when he forgot to sign his name on his check for rent over a month ago, are a naturally sociable person. you're amicable with one another. there's a light banter between the two of you that eases him before he gets anywhere. what's interesting is how much he sees you when he leaves and when he returns. early in the morning, late at night, you're a workaholic, much like he is. you share similar stresses and worries when the two of you talk to one another. there's softness. hushed laughs. shy waves. lingering stares.

but you're still his landlord. even though the two of you are—friends—you're honest with carmen. you're frustrated with the circumstances of your life. you've shared it with him, pieces in passing.

"don't mind the boxes. new equipment." - the morning of august 4th.

"had to spend a lot on repairs, i'm cleaned out right now." - the night of august 12th when carmen asked for some change.

"fuck my life. this is the thousandth time my accountant calls." - the afternoon of august 15th when your phone rang, while you had a paint pale in your hands passing in conversation with carmen who wanted to steal some of your attention just a few seconds longer.

you call him out on it because you have to. he's weeks behind and your patience can only last for so long. it's a culmination. he knows you're pissed whenever he approaches you in your office, your eyes locking onto his with creased eyebrows. he almost doesn't want to say it, but he has to, quickly asking for another week, apologizing right after, overexplaining his job and how he's in a rut, your voice in the background telling him to stop the excuses after a long, exasperated sigh. you can't give him so much courtesy just because you have other tenants and your own bills to pay.

he gets desperate. being evicted is not something he wants added in his ever growing list of problems. he tries to offer you free dinners. promises of cooking for you. driving you around since he knows it makes you anxious, another bit of information he memorized in your short but frequent talks. and finally, when you're refusing his extension of help, making it clear that he has to pay, or else you have to give him the dreaded slip, he leans onto your desk, looking at you in your rolling chair.

"please, don't do this. i need one more week and then i'll pay it, late fee and all."

"fees."

"... fees, okay, yeah," he gulps. "i'll pay those, too. i'm going to talk to my uncle's number guy. i'll do anything."

his forearms flex in that instance. he shifted his weight slightly forward, and the veins snaking up his skin crept into your eyesight. he saw that look, his lips parting in surprise. his mouth closes, studying your features, searching for more of that slip in your exterior.

"whatever you want..." he says slowly, conviction in his tone. he watches your gaze, eyss shutting before you wind up looking back at him. he tests his luck.

"whatever you need."

somehow, that segued to now. you, sprawled out on your desk, upper body hanging on, carmen's hands pulling and pushing your hips against his, your legs on his torso, one of your ankles dangling. your back arches as he speeds himself up, panting heavily, grunting with effort and pleasure combined, his full attention on your face. he needs to see your reactions. he's determined to please you.

he leans a bit over, reluctantly looking from your open lips down to where the two of you connect. carmen takes a chance, he needs to increase the intensity for you. he gathers the saliva in his mouth before he spits down. it's warm as it lands on your clit, your gasp of surprise music to his ears. it slides down, provides a sliver of extra lubrication, and that's what makes the delicious slide sink him in so suddenly when he was already driving into you with increasing momentum.

at the end of it all, you tell carmen you would've slept with him for free without any of it. you give him four more days instead of the full week. he asked if he could have the three extra days if he could give you four more orgasms.

you agreed... as long as he also cooked you dinner and the two of you spent your next day off together. you're in luck. carmen lives to serve.

[yoongiseesawmp3]

anything but - jeonghan

summary: roommate!jeonghan. you thought living with your best friend, jeonghan, would be easy. fun. like a sleepover every night. but as he watches you struggle week in and week out with crushes that don't like you back or dates that never seem to go well, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

word count: 8.2k

warnings: none rly, afab reader, unedited, sry

masterlist

jeonghan is ready to go to sleep. he had a long day, followed by a good, but tiring, night with friends, and he's been thinking about his soft sheets for the past two hours now. he's also been thinking about you, thinking about how happy he gets seeing your face light up when he walks through the door, but he knows he won't see that tonight. you're going on a date, dinner with some loser who's not him. he knows he could treat you so much better, but he can't just say that. things would get weird, and jeonghan can't afford the rent on his own. so selfishly, he keeps you and his feelings at arm's length. he's still thinking about you as he puts his key in the lock, wondering if he can stay up late enough to make sure you get home safe. when he opens the door, he changes his mind.

"what are you doing here?" jeonghan asks with a bit of anger in his voice, finding you laid out on the couch scrolling through your phone. "you told me you were going on a date tonight. did you cancel on him?"

"nope," you reply, popping the p as you sit up to stare at your roommate. "he cancelled on me. ten minutes before he was supposed to pick me up, actually, so i got ready for nothing."

that's when jeonghan notices the nice clothes you have on, your hair done up but mussed now that you've been laying on it. and, with a pang in his chest, he notices your makeup that looks smudged with tears. he knows you've been having dating trouble lately, and it's definitely been getting to you. but it makes his heart ache to think that you've been home all night crying over some loser who couldn't even bother to take you out.

"why didn't you call me?" he asks softly, joining you on the couch as he lifts your legs to lay them over his lap. he keeps a comforting hand on your calf as you explain, a slight tremor in your bottom lip as you say, "i didn't want to interrupt boy's night."

"baby, come on," he sighs. "you should have told me. you could've come to boy's night!"

"right," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "and hear all of them talk about their beautiful girlfriends and being so happy in a relationship? i'd rather eat drywall."

"we talk about other stuff," jeonghan laughs. "i told them about you getting us tickets to that soccer game and now i think they like you better than me. mingyu might be calling to see if he can take my ticket."

"never," you smile at him, sitting up and swinging your legs from his lap. "well, it's late. you're probably tired."

"eh," jeonghan shrugs, looking over you carefully to gauge if you're upset. "i could stay up a little longer, if you wanted to watch something."

"we're caught up on all our shows though," you pout. jeonghan sees an idea cross your face, so he asks, "what are you thinking?"

"nothing," you shake your head. "i remembered i didn't watch project runway last week, but you don't like that show-"

"put it on," he nods to the tv, looking over you one more time and noticing your clothes must not be that comfortable. "or you go change, i'll set it up."

"you don't know what episode i'm on though," you squint at him, and he shakes his head.

"nope, you're two weeks behind," he says. "i remember, because we went out the week before and you were ticked off that you were missing it."

"you pay too much attention to me," you mumble as you finally get up from the couch, jeonghan barely hearing you as he checks you out from behind. you're right, he does. too bad you haven't realized why.

when you come back from your room, you're wearing a hoodie that's seen better days and shorts that aren't quite doing their job. jeonghan clears his throat, trying not to stare, but when you sit down and put your legs back over his lap he can't help but skirt his hand over your skin, getting too close to your thigh without realizing.

"that tickles," you giggle, pushing his hand away. "you're annoying."

"ha, sorry," he laughs nervously, not sure what to do with his hands now so he reaches for the remote to press play. not far into the episode you curl up on your side of the couch, your knees tucked up beneath you as you lay down. jeonghan keeps an eye on you the whole time, attune to all your reactions and movements. he notices when you shiver, up in an instant to get a blanket.

"where are you going?" you call out, and he comes back wordlessly with the comforter from his room. he wraps it over you, using the rest of it to cover himself as he gets comfortable again. you find yourself dozing off, waking up every few minutes to see the progress on your favorite designers. you sleep through a whole section of the show, whining that you need to rewind, but jeonghan quietly explains what's happened and you're satisfied enough.

"do you want me to turn this off?" jeonghan asks after he sees your eyes closed again after you just complained about missing part of the show. you shake your head, not much of it visible outside of his blanket. you're noticing how nice his blanket smells, recognizing it as the same fresh scent that follows jeonghan around. it makes you feel at home, and that's part of what's making you so sleepy.

"i don't wanna go to my room," you admit shyly, feeling the tears from earlier just a moment or two away. "i'll stay awake, promise."

"do you want to sleep out here?" jeonghan asks, and you think about it for a moment. it wouldn't be the first time you had a little sleepover of sorts, both of you squished awkwardly on the couch or sleeping far apart from each other on someone's mattress that's been dragged out from one of your rooms. your silence decides it for jeonghan, and he says, "i'll go change, and then we can go to sleep." all you do is nod, getting comfortable beneath his comforter again as jeonghan slinks back to his bedroom to get ready for bed.

he comes back out and laughs to himself, your messy hair and scrunched sleepy face pulling at his heart. he knows someday he should tell you how he feels. he knows what you're looking for, and he knows he's perfect for you. it's just a matter of time before you figure that out, too.

-

a few days later, jeonghan was in the middle of a nap when he heard mumbling in the hallway and the sound of someone slamming doors. he was worried for only a few minutes, thinking it could possibly be an intruder, but as the mumbling gets closer to his door he knows there's a very frustrated y/n on the other side. he groans as he hoists himself up, shuffling to the door so he can peek out at you putting laundry away in the most irritated way possible. it's like you're trying to punish the towels for existing, and jeonghan can't help but laugh at the annoyed look on your face. it's cute, he finds himself thinking, but his chuckle pulls you from your dark thoughts and brings your anger to a new victim.

"what."

"nothing," jeonghan says defensively. "i thought someone was breaking in, you know, with all the banging around."

"shut up," you mumble, shoving the washcloths into the hall closet before slamming the door. you turn to your best friend and roommate, finger pointed accusingly, "i'm in a bad mood so don't piss me off."

"that explains the stress cleaning," he notes, and you ignore him.

"i'm going downstairs to put the dishes away," you grumble as you pass by him to get to the stairs, and he puts a timid hand on your shoulder.

"maybe do something that involves less breakables," he says coolly. "go punch a pillow or something."

"that's a good idea," you say, face lighting up slightly, and he laughs nervously as he finally asks what's wrong. "you remember that bitch of a dude who i was talking to a couple weeks ago?"

"gar bear?" jeonghan asks, and you roll your eyes.

"gary, yeah."

"what about him?" he asks, watching you unlock your phone and scroll to find something. you shove it into his hands, open to a very disturbing picture of a very ugly dick. "no."

"yeah. at three pm on a fucking thursday."

"stop making me look at it," he whines, pushing your phone back to you. "that's what made you mad?"

"yes!" you shout. "how did that thought process work? oh, this girl who i led on and then gaslit and then weirded out, she really needs to see my dick right now. it's the middle of the day! get a job! contribute to society!!!"

"why's he posing like that?" jeonghan asks, noticing more about the photo since you haven't locked your phone yet. "he looks so stiff."

"please stop," you say, but jeonghan sees a smile pulling at your lips.

"so what did you do?"

"i said 'what is your problem' and then i blocked him," you shrug, and he laughs.

"remind me to never piss you off," he says as he wraps an arm around you. "i'm sorry guys are assholes."

"i think i'm gonna become a nun," you mumble into his shoulder, staying in his hold maybe a minute too long. he presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head before letting you go, a blush on your cheeks that he takes pride in.

"you'd suck at being a nun, you're not nice enough," he jokes, and the way you glare at him makes him smile. "plus you fuck too much, aren't they supposed to be celibate?"

"forget punching pillows, i'm gonna punch you."

"sure baby," he chuckles, looking back at you as he walks downstairs. "you want food or something? i'll do the dishes. you just focus on not burning down the patriarchy."

"no promises," you mumble as you follow behind him. "but yeah, i wanna try this recipe i found the other day..."

it's over dinner that night that you realize how perfect jeonghan is. if only you could find a guy just like your best friend. someone who supports you, makes you smile, know how to get your heart to skip a beat. take, for example, his compliments. you like to joke to jeonghan that you need validation on your cooking, like tinkerbell, so whenever you cook for him the praises are nonstop. he's nothing if not supportive, so he tries to find things to comment on that he knows will make you blush. it works, and you do your best to tell him to stop without making it obvious that your heart is doing somersaults at his words.

this is what you want from a relationship, you find yourself thinking. you want to be comfortable with them, feel supported, all the things that jeonghan gives you. that night, you scroll through your dating apps, looking for a guy you think could meet those standards. in reality, you spend the whole night comparing the men on your screen to your roommate, subconsciously thinking of all the things you like most about jeonghan that these losers don't possess. you fall asleep like that, phone open to an empty chat, with jeonghan still on your mind.

-

so, a downside to living with jeonghan is you get the brunt end of all his weird energy. sometimes it's fun, and manifests itself in silly ways. like when you go thrifting, he takes it upon himself to find the weirdest thing in the store and insists on bringing it home. it means your apartment is decorated uniquely, but some of the stranger things you make him keep in his room. you haven't figured out yet that he only does this to make you laugh, loving how you smile sweetly at all the funny trinkets littered around your house. anything that goes into his room is eventually donated back to goodwill, its purpose served, doomed to delight another unassuming shopper some day.

other times, his weird energy comes out in worse ways. like today, he's not home, but you can feel that something's wrong. you know jeonghan is helping his friends with some video shoot, and he won't be home until much later. but there's a vibe in your apartment when you walk in. something is off, and it doesn't take you long to realize it. jeonghan has moved everything around, the couch where your kitchen table should be, the chairs from the table lined up in place of your couch. he's a strange one, your best friend, but it makes you laugh nonetheless, sending him a picture of the chairs and asking, "how am i supposed to fall asleep watching tv on this?!"

jeonghan smiles when he gets your text, shooting back, "watch tv in your room if you know you're just gonna fall asleep!"

really, he did the switcharoo for you to let your guard down. yes, moving furniture around is something silly that he would do, but he hid something further in the house that he wants you to find. he's hoping he'll be home when you do, but just the mere thought of your reaction has him chuckling. he goes back to whatever vernon wanted him to do, curious at each buzz from his phone, wondering if it's you.

jeonghan got the best of you, like usual. you did just go to your room, putting on one of your comfort shows so you could relax after a boring shift at work. you only get up to make a quick meal, dozing off again with the empty plate beside you. when the tv wakes you up you figure it's just time for you to go to bed, so you shuffle to the kitchen and notice a light coming from under jeonghan's door. he must have come home while you were napping, but it's late, so you go about your business. you drop your things off in the kitchen, returning upstairs to grab a washcloth and towel from the closet before you lock yourself in the bathroom. jeonghan is listening intently as you move around, waiting for the sound of the shower curtain pulling back and-

"JEONGHAN?!"

with sock clad feet that send him crashing through the now open bathroom door, he greets you with a shit eating grin. "you rang?"

"what the FUCK is that doing in here," you bellow, pointing at the plastic skeleton jeonghan found at the party store earlier that day. he thought it would be funny to hide in the apartment, at first just thinking about propping it up in the kitchen like the dead guy was making a meal, but the idea of scaring you a little was too good for him to pass up.

"man, when was the last time you cleaned your bathroom?" jeonghan jokes, "he must've been in here a while."

"fuck you," you spit, heart still racing from the surprise. that's when jeonghan notices something: you're naked. well, not entirely. like, you definitely don't have clothes on, his eyes flicking down to see your discarded panties and sleep shirt on the floor. he can't see the goods though because you're dangerously holding a towel over your body, one edge of it slipping as you reach out to try and punch jeonghan.

"what, you don't like him?" jeonghan pouts, stepping out of the bathroom to protect himself. "i thought you said you wanted to start decorating for halloween."

"this is not what i meant and you know it, you jackass," you try to say meanly, but jeonghan finds it cute. "it scared the shit out of me."

"i'm sorry," he says finally, hands twitching to reach out and grab you by the waist so he can rub comforting circles on your skin. but he can't. he physically shakes his hands out, a thing he does often enough to reset his mind that you look at him quizzically.

"why'd you do that?" you ask, and he clasps his hands behind his back defensively.

"felt like it," he shrugs. you roll your eyes and reach for the door, grumbling more expletives at him as you try to shut it in his face. "um, y/n?"

"what."

"you gonna shower with him?" jeonghan asks, pointing to your new friend. "i gotta admit, i'm a little jealous-"

"oh my god," you groan, grabbing the skeleton and throwing it at jeonghan with a comical clangor of plastic bones. "i hate you."

"love you too baby," jeonghan laughs as he closes the door for you, hefting the skeleton over his shoulder to go hide him in another corner of the house.

-

a few days later (jeonghan has hid the skeleton twice now), you come home from a date, dopey smile still on your face. you gasp when you see a body on the couch, thinking it's that stupid skeleton again. you breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it's a snoozing jeonghan instead. he looks angelic, his soft features shining brightly even in the dark room, illuminated by the tv. you don't realize that you're staring, nor do you realize jeonghan is peeking at you, the sound of the door waking him up.

"hey," he calls quietly, startling you. "sorry. i can go back to sleep and you can keep staring."

"i wasn't staring," you say defensively.

"sure," jeonghan nods, checking you out. "you look nice."

"who's staring now?" you ask as you cross to the kitchen. "i went out to dinner, but the portions were too small. do you want something to eat?"

"no, i'm good!" jeonghan calls. "was it a fancy place?"

"what?" you ask, coming back into the living room with a bag of chips. "i couldn't hear you."

"where you ate," he clarifies. "you dressed up, the servings were small, must have been a fancy place this guy took you to."

"how'd you know i was on a date?" you pout.

"y/n, i know you better than anyone else," jeonghan chuckles. "it was obvious. how'd it go?"

"good," you nod, ears burning under jeonghan's close attention. "don't wanna jinx it though."

"ok," jeonghan nods. "well i'm glad it was a good date. you deserve one of those."

"how was your night?" you ask. jeonghan shifts on the couch so there's room for you to sit and join him. once you're settled he explains how his friend seungcheol had come over for drinks, but he left a little while ago.

"i think he's got a girlfriend and doesn't want to tell me," jeonghan says, "because he feels bad that i'm not seeing anybody."

"you want me to find you a lady?" you tease. "you know my friends love you, i'm sure it'd be easy.''

"no," he shakes his head so some of his hair falls in his eyes. it makes it easier for him to stare at you without you noticing. "i'm good."

"well, it's a standing offer," you say as you get up to return the chips to the pantry. when you walk back through the living room, you ask, "where's jack tonight? i'm about to shower, i don't want another heart attack."

"i put the skeleton in your bed," jeonghan smiles with an impish glint in his eyes. "i figured it would be a nice surprise for the poor sap you might have brought home."

"you're annoying."

"thanks!" jeonghan chirps, and you laugh before telling him goodnight. he watches you go, smiling at something on your phone. jeonghan feels a pang in his chest ever so slightly, but he shakes it off, turning the tv off before he goes back to sleep trying not to think about you.

-

the following week, you're acting off. jeonghan notices immediately, but he doesn't bring it up to you at first. he's not sure if maybe work is stressing you, or maybe you've got family stuff going on...whatever it is, he'll give it a day or two before he checks on you, knowing how you like having time to yourself before someone swoops in to help.

the reality is, you really like this guy you've been talking to. that first date was amazing, and you wanted to go out with him again as soon as possible. you talk all the time, always ducking into your room when he calls while you're around jeonghan. you're actually ignoring jeonghan a lot, which you feel bad about, but you just can't get enough of this new guy. even though you're talking a lot, it's hard to set up another date with him because you're both busy with work. you've got plans to hang out on sunday, and for the first time in a long time, you're excited for a date. not nervous, not dreading it, just pure schoolgirl crush excitement.

that's why it's so crushing when, a few hours before, the guy texts you and cancels. you play it off at first, asking when he's free to reschedule, but his response is basically telling you to get lost. it hurts your feelings more than it should, because he is just some loser dude, but you also didn't know him that long. you have no reason to be so devastated over this, but you are.

jeonghan knew about your second date with this guy, so he made plans to be out of the house for as long as possible on sunday. as selfish as it was, he didn't want to be there for the giddy getting ready (you always ask him for outfit advice and he always tells you that you look great) or for the nervous pacing while you waited for the guy to pick you up (jeonghan always distracts you with jokes to calm your nerves). he also didn't want to be there after the date, if you happened to bring the lucky guy home. so he's out running errands, bothering his friends, and killing time until he's sure he won't walk in on anything he doesn't want to see.

when jeonghan gets home, it's late. after his day of farting around he went to his friend wonwoo's apartment for a while to heckle him while he played video games, and wonwoo finally kicked him out.

"don't you need to go home to your girlfriend?" wonwoo had teased, and jeonghan kicked him from his spot on the couch.

"y/n's my best friend and my roommate."

"so basically your girlfriend," wonwoo smiles that little smile of his, and it annoys jeonghan.

"she doesn't think of it like that," jeonghan mumbles, looking for his phone so he can head home anyway.

"because you're being too subtle."

"i'm not trying to be anything!" jeonghan says defensively. "i don't want her to know."

"why not?" wonwoo asks, finally turning to look at his friend. "you afraid she'll say no? because we all think-"

"i'll see you later, ok?" jeonghan says quickly, his shoes barely on as he tries to unlock the door. "hope cheol doesn't kill you again."

"in his dreams," wonwoo mumbles, his attention effectively back on the game and off of jeonghan.

jeonghan comes home to a mostly dark apartment, the stove light in the kitchen the only indication that you got home before him. he stops at the door to make sure there's no...unpleasant sounds coming from elsewhere, and when he's met with silence he kicks his shoes off carefully before heading to his room. he's exhausted, hiding from you all day being a good way to wear a person out. when he passes by your room something catches his ear, and his heart stops. were you moaning?

jeonghan knows he shouldn't, but he presses his ear against your door, telling himself he's only doing this so he can decide if he needs to stay somewhere else tonight. he's waiting to hear another voice, a man's voice, but he's met with a quiet whimper, followed by some sniffles. his heart roars back to life hearing that, almost breaking to pieces when he realizes you're not moaning, you're in your room crying. he's opening the door before he knows what he's doing, and you jump out of your skin at the unwelcome intrusion.

"go away," you whisper. jeonghan ignores you, coming to your bedside and looking down at you with concern in his eyes. "jeonghan, please. go away-"

"why are you crying?" he asks, and you don't say anything. "what did that asshole do?"

"nothing," you sniff again, willing your tears to stay back as you try to appease your roommate long enough for him to decide you're fine and leave you alone. "h-he was bu-busy and had to cancel-"

"fuck him."

"yeah, whatever," you say shakily. "it doesn't matter. i'm fine. now leave. please." your eyes are closed, trying to hide the tears that are welling up, and jeonghan is so quiet you assume he left, but he's trying not to let his own emotions show as he calls your name.

"y/n," jeonghan whispers, and when you look up at him you can't help it. you start crying again seeing him so upset over you being so upset, and before long you're back to bawling your eyes out. you barely register jeonghan cooing softly at you, climbing into bed and scooping you up into his arms. his lips are pressing soft kisses up and down your hairline, and it makes you cry even more. this is what you want, you think. this is what you need, what you've been missing. you want a boyfriend that will care for you like jeonghan does, that will be there for you like jeonghan is. it physically hurts you to think that you may never have that, that there's a possibility you'll never feel that kind of romantic love from someone. and you want to say that, you want to tell jeonghan why he came home to you pathetically crying so much, but he doesn't care. he just wants you to stop, so he'll hold you in his arms whispering sweet jokes to you until there's no more tears. he gets the slightest smile out of you right before you doze off, hands bunched into his shirt holding on for dear life. jeonghan holds you tighter, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your snotty nose before he drifts off to sleep with you.

-

you wake up later, not quite in the morning, but a few hours have passed. you're not used to sharing a bed with someone, especially when that person has such a vice grip on you as jeonghan does. once your mind has registered that you're awake, you also feel the burn of someone's eyes on you. sure enough, when you peek into the darkness of your room you see jeonghan staring back, eyebrows creased and teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

"stop chewing your lip," you tell him, reaching out to tug it from between his teeth. "i'm fine. you don't need to worry about me."

"wrong," he replies, watching you intensely as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. the quiet that follows has your face heating up, and the heat spreads through the rest of your body. it feels like every point where jeonghan's body is pressed against yours is on fire, and you want to pull away. but you don't.

"why aren't you in your room."

"because i wanted to sleep here," he replies. "i hope that's ok."

"it's not-"

"bummer," jeonghan cuts you off. "i'm not leaving."

"i'm not crying anymore though," you point out. "so. i'm fine."

"nope," he shakes his head. his bangs fall back into his eyes, and you think briefly he must need a haircut, but you hope he doesn't get one. the long hair suits him, even if it keeps him from seeing sometimes. you don't think about it, your hand unclenching his shirt and instead reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. jeonghan watches you carefully, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you look back down to his eyes. he's staring at you so intensely you can feel it in your chest, and that's when it hits you: jeonghan. you want a boyfriend like jeonghan. well! jeonghan's right here! what are you gonna do about it?

"jeonghan, i..." you trail off, staring at him like you're seeing him in a new light. he waits patiently for you to go on, thinking you might explain the situation a little more, but you don't know what to say. you just get hit with the intense need to bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to his heartbeat as you fall back asleep.

"what?" he asks, trying to encourage you to keep speaking.

"um, can i just-" you try, but instead of speaking you just nuzzle into his chest, nose at the base of his neck tickling his skin. "i want to go back to sleep."

"then sleep baby," he whispers as he squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go. as you fall asleep, you let your hands relax against his chest, one of them laid right over his racing heart.

-

the next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and almost convince yourself you dreamed up jeonghan last night. like an oasis in the desert, he came to you when you needed him most. a little part of you wishes it wasn't real so you could go back to a time where you didn't know your true feelings for jeonghan, but your mussed sheets proves it wasn't a dream. jeonghan's scent is still lingering on your extra pillow, and you take a deep breath and remember how it felt to be wrapped up in your best friend.

jeonghan comes back into your room with two coffees in hand and he sees you nuzzling your face into the spot where his head laid just minutes ago. he lets you wallow for a moment before he calls your name softly. you jump up, cheeks warming as you look at jeonghan in your doorway.

"morning," he smiles. he hands you your coffee, your cold hands brushing his and sparking warmth across his skin. he stops himself from leaning down to kiss your forehead, knowing that whatever intimacy you shared last night is probably left in the past. you were sad, and jeonghan was there to comfort you. he'd happily do that a million times over, but he doesn't think you feel the same way he does.

"jeonghan, i'm sorry about last night," you try to apologize, but he shakes his head.

"don't," he stops you. "i would do it again if you needed it."

"well if you find me crying over some loser again tonight you have full permission to slap me," you tell him. "one night was enough."

"noted," he laughs, awkwardly standing in your room, unsure if he can get back into bed with you. you pick up on the way his eyes keep flitting from you to his spot, and you pat the empty space so he'll sit down.

"stop being weird," you say, bumping shoulders with him once he's comfortably next to you again. "so how'd you sleep?"

"pretty good," he starts out, "but there was this really annyoing sound coming from your side of the bed?"

"oh you mean me crying?"

"no, like this really loud, obnoxious snoring, kinda like-" jeonghan starts demonstrating, sending you into a fit of giggles and a pushing match to get him to stop.

"i think that was you!" you shriek, carefully trying not to spill your coffee. "don't spill that in my bed, i'll kill you."

"and then who are you gonna cuddle at night?" jeonghan asks, regretting it when he feels the tension between you both.

"i could always cuddle with jack," you joke to break the awkwardness, and jeonghan rolls his eyes.

"i hate that you named the skeleton."

"the skeleton is a guest in our home," you tease him. "show him some respect."

"whatever, freak," he says before downing the rest of his coffee. he gets an idea then, turning to you to ask, "what are you doing today?"

"um, nothing except work," you reply. "but you know my job is barely real so i'm basically doing nothing."

"let's go get coffee," jeonghan says, a playful look in his eyes.

"we just had coffee," you point out.

"no, no, we'll get good coffee, you can do some work, i'll watch you do some work, it'll be great," he insists, getting up and pulling you out of bed with him.

"if you're still trying to cheer me up i swear i'm fine," you say through your laughter, pressing back against jeonghan trying to push you toward your closet. "you don't need to take me for coffee or do anything else to make me feel better. i'm fine now."

"glad to hear it," he smiles softly, squeezing your hand that's clasped firmly in his. "but i still want to get coffee, so get dressed or everyone at the cafe will see you in that god forsaken t shirt."

the t shirt in question is one that jeonghan found for you during one of your goodwill visits. for whatever reason, it says 'i shaved my balls for this' and it got the biggest laugh from you all night, so jeonghan had to bring it home. despite being awful colors (light blue paired with neon yellow) it's actually quite comfortable, and you love the way it makes jeonghan laugh every time you wear it. it's unironically become your favorite sleep shirt, but you are mortified at the thought of anyone aside from your best friend seeing you in it. you quickly change, grabbing your work laptop from your desk before you head into the living room to find jeonghan waiting for you.

it's not unusual for him to take you out on random adventures, but this one feels different. he stays closer to you than normal, insists on buying your drink, and you catch him actually watching you work.

"get a hobby," you mumble, looking down at your laptop so he hopefully won't see your blushing cheeks.

"this is my hobby," he says. "i'm hanging out with my favorite person."

"seungcheol's going to be very sad to hear he's been demoted," you tease.

"he knows where he stands," jeonghan says, still watching you intently. you can't take it anymore, staring back at him.

"seriously, pretend to read or something! you're distracting me."

"i'm distracting you?" he smiles. "why? i'm not doing anything."

"i'm sending this email and then we're leaving," you say, and he shrugs.

"if you want, baby."

baby. it hits you harder this time, jeonghan's silly little nickname for you. you thought it started off as a sarcastic thing, but recently you feel like it sounds sweeter and sweeter coming from his lips. after last night, it makes your heart skip a beat, and that's when it hits you: are you on a date with jeonghan right now?!

"wait. waitwaitwait. hold on," you say, pointing at jeonghan and then yourself. "is this a date? are we on a date?"

"what? no baby," he shakes his head, and now you're confused. "no, if we were on a date you'd know."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you squeak out.

"do you want us to be on a date right now?" jeonghan counters, and you know your blushing cheeks have you in trouble. "you do?"

"i-i don't know-"

"hm, you wanna go on a date with me," jeonghan says matter of factly. "well, that's good to know."

"what are you doing?" you ask as he starts cleaning up his space.

"oh i need to go back to the apartment," he says. "gotta get my laptop so i can start planning a date that's worthy of you. i'll see you at home?"

"jeonghan, what?" you're left sputtering as he heads to the door, not looking back even though he knows your staring. he's afraid you'll see the excited/nervous shake in his hands, so he needs to go cool off. well, that and plan the best date of your entire life. he's got a lot of ground to cover. thankfully, the idiots you usually grace your time with have set the bar pretty low. jeonghan is determined to bring it higher, so high in fact that you won't be able to go on another first date without comparing it to his. if things go right though, maybe you won't have to go on a first date ever again.

-

jeonghan left the coffeeshop before you, so it would make sense if he was at the apartment when you got back, right? wrong. you come home about an hour later to an empty home, no sign of jeonghan. you think that's fine, it gives you a chance to actually get some work done. but jeonghan being mia has you a little nervous. what's he doing? he said he was going to plan a date. for you. and him. you and jeonghan...on a date? that's crazy.

you've done a good job ignoring that whole concept, trying to get ahead on a project you need to present later this week. you're so hyperfocused that the whole day goes by before you realize it, and when you finally emerge from your room you really expect to find jeonghan in the living room. he's still gone, so you decide to text him, asking casually if he would be home for dinner. the domesticity isn't lost on you, and it makes jeonghan smile when he gets it. he decides to call instead of texting back, balancing his phone against his shoulder and his cheek once you pick up.

"you miss me or something?" he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"i was just curious," you reply nonchalantly. "you've been missing all day."

"i've been busy."

"oh ok."

"i'll be home soon though," he tells you. "don't make dinner, just make sure you're dressed in an hour."

"for what?"

"a surprise."

"i need more information and you know that," you scoff, and you hear jeonghan chuckle.

"dress nice, but not fancy. and wear something blue so we'll match," he explains, and you feel your cheeks warm. "i gotta go, but i'll see you soon, baby."

hearing that coming from jeonghan now makes your heart skip a beat, and it makes you wonder if you've always felt like this and you just didn't notice. you keep thinking about him as you get ready, steaming out a dress you were planning to wear on a date that didn't happen. it's a soft blue with long sleeves and a low tie in the front. you worry for a moment that it might be too revealing, but checking the time rushes you into action. you're almost ready when there's a knock at the front door, which you ignore. there's another knock, this time louder, so you grumble your way to the living room to peek through the peephole. you gasp when you see what's on the other side.

you throw the door open, revealing a visibly nervous jeonghan with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. he's wearing a blue shirt, almost the exact shade of your dress, and he openly stares at you with a happy smile and a look in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"jeonghan?" you ask, pulling him from his intense focus on your chest.

"y/n," he smiles, eyes flicking up to yours. "you look stunning."

"i'm not ready yet," you pout slightly, checking the time on your phone. "you weren't very specific about when you were coming home."

"you look perfect," he says, checking you out again. "what else could you need to do?"

"wouldn't you like to know?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"i can give you ten minutes, but any longer than that and we'll be late."

"late for what?" you ask as he passes you the flowers. "these are beautiful by the way, carnations are-"

"your favorite, i know," he smiles softly. "you buy yourself a bunch almost every time you're at the grocery store."

"i can't remember the last time someone bought me flowers either," you mumble, opening the door enough for jeonghan to come inside. "what are you still doing out there? it's your house, come in."

"finish getting ready," he laughs at you, reaching for the flowers again. "i'm putting them in a vase, weirdo. you'll get them back when you're done getting pretty."

"i'll be back," you whisper, running off before he can see how nervous you just got. you try to calm your nerves as you finish your touch ups, panicking last minute over which shoes and purse go with your outfit.

jeonghan is sitting on the couch, your flowers in your favorite vase on the coffeetable. he perks up at the sound of you shuffling down the hallway, but he pouts when he sees you holding up all your shoes.

"y/n, we're gonna be late."

"i don't know which ones to wear," you say simply, and he smiles as he comes up to you, analyzing the choices. he picks the white shoes and the white purse.

"glad we're still keeping this tradition alive even though i'm the one taking you out this time," he says proudly, watching you get situated. you stand back up, mussing your hair one last time before he asks, "ready to go, beautiful?"

"i don't know why i'm so nervous," you tell him, taking his arm as you leave the apartment. "we hang out all the time."

"yeah, but this isn't us hanging out," jeonghan says as you wait for the elevator. "i'm taking you on the best date of your life. nerves are completely valid."

"are you nervous?" you whisper, leaning in so jeonghan gets a good whiff of your perfume that he loves finding traces of all through his life. he holds your gaze, eyes flicking down momentarily before he shakes his head.

"no, i thought i would be, but i'm not," he replies simply as you get on the elevator.

"ok good, so i'll just freak out for the both of us then."

"would you? that takes a lot of pressure off of me," jeonghan jokes, and you pinch his arm. "ouch! so mean to me when i've made the perfect night for you."

"and what does this perfect night entail?" you ask. jeonghan just shakes his head, leading you out into the lobby of the building. he takes you a different way, not walking to the parking garage but instead to the main entrance of your building. "jeonghan, are we walking there? i don't think i can make it in these shoes-"

you stop mid-sentence, spotting the shiny baby blue mustang convertible parked outside. you look at jeonghan, mouth open in surprise. he has to tug you down the hallway and out into the cool night air, helping you into the passenger seat with ease. you watch on in shock as he gets into the driver's side, finally cutting through the fog in your mind to ask, "do you even know how to drive this?"

"yeah," jeonghan says coolly, opening the glovebox to hand you a scrunchie of yours that he stole. "here, you might wanna put your hair up."

"you're insane," you tell him, playing with the scrunchie in your lap as he starts the car. you can't believe this so far, and the date's barely begun. what other surprises could he possibly have in store for you?

-

after a quick ride out of the city, you find yourself at a retro drive in that's completely empty. you have a sneaking suspicion jeonghan rented it just for the two of you tonight, but you don't have a chance to ask. once he parks, he's asking you to open the glovebox and you smile when you see the stack of movie theatre candy boxes he's stashed away. you take them out, turning back to jeonghan to see he's produced a tub of popcorn from somewhere and a couple of your favorite sodas. you stare at him with your mouth opening and closing like a fish and he just smiles proudly in return.

"jeonghan, what did you do?" you finally ask, and he laughs.

"do you like it?"

"what are we doing here?"

"watching a movie," he says obviously. he shifts the snacks, the drinks going into the holders by the radio and the popcorn and candy going on the dashboard. "come closer," he mumbles, tugging your arm. the smooth vinyl of the seats sending you flying into jeonghan's side, and you giggle nervously as you adjust your dress. jeonghan lays the snacks out over your laps and drapes his arm across your shoulders for good measure. he looks at you to gauge whether you're settled or not, and when he decides you're ready he presses on the horn once. the screen in front of you lights up, and you gasp as you see the opening credits for your favorite movie flashing before you.

"where did you get the idea to do this?" you ask him with a smile, taking a few pieces of popcorn to give you something to do with your hands.

"just thought it would be something different," he shrugs, and you leave it at that. you can barely focus on the movie, hyperaware of how warm jeonghan is next to you and how every glance he casts your way sends your heart racing faster and faster. a few minutes into it, you remember your hair is still tied up from the ride, so you shuffle out of jeonghan's grasp to pull the scrunchie down and reset yourself. you know jeonghan is watching, so you mumble, "watch the movie, weirdo."

"i've seen it before," he whispers back, eyes still heavy on you. "i'm not missing anything."

"you've seen me before too," you point out, leaning back into his side once you're done moving around. "quite a lot, actually."

"yeah, but i've never seen you on a date before," he says. "and on a date with me? whoa. i gotta soak it all in."

you turn to look at him then, admiring the way his hair falls so slightly into his eyes, the way his lips stretch over his shy smile, how his eyes glisten when they meet yours. you could kick yourself for not noticing any of this sooner. who knew you had exactly what you were looking for right here?

"jeonghan, i-" you start, but realize you don't have the words to tell him what you want to say. you stop, staring at him with your brows furrowed cutely.

"what, baby?" he laughs, his thumb coming up to trace the creases in your forehead. "you're gonna give yourself premature wrinkles like this."

"why are you doing this?" you ask quietly. "why are you so...wonderful? all the time?"

"because," he shrugs, his hand falling from your forehead to rest just below your chin. "i've been trying to show you what it would be like. took you long enough to come around."

"show me what?" you ask confused.

"what it's like being loved by me," he smiles back. you feel your breath catch in your throat, and you want to say something. you want to tell him how you feel, how you're sorry it took you so long, how you love every moment you spend with jeonghan by your side. instead you just lean forward, lips brushing over his. you bring your hands up to his neck, wrapping them in the soft hair at the back of his head as you scoot impossibly closer and try to press all your love into this one kiss. jeonghan keeps his hold on your chin, thumb stroking softly at your cheek. he's the first one to pull back, laughing when you try to bring his lips back to yours so quickly. he leans his forehead against yours, soft hair tickling your skin as he asks, "so you get it now?"

"yeah," you nod, knocking your heads together and sending you both into a fit of giggles. jeonghan steals a few more kisses, and when you finally calm down he pulls you back into his side, squeezing you as close to him as possible. you lay your head down on his shoulder, pressing your lips into the closest part of him you can reach. "thank you, jeonghan. my jeonghan."

"my y/n," he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "my beautiful, kind, funny girl."

"stop staring," you whisper bashfully. "you're missing the movie."

"i'm not missing anything," he repeats, but he takes one last look at you before he kisses the top of your head and finally turns back to the screen. this might be your first date with jeonghan, but it certainly won't be your last.

[kenananamin]

Beside Each Other

Chapter 1: Moving in

[masterlist]

Summary: Single mom moves into a third floor apartment with her 5 year old daughter. Nanami Kento lives on the second floor and knows someone is moving in when he hears the furniture scraping across the floor to find its spot in the apartment. He expects the noise to end in a day or two but then hears the little pitter patter of tiny feet followed by a muffled, "Stop running!" Well... this should be interesting.

fluff, nanami kento x fem!reader

~3.6k words

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Monday

*Second floor, Nanami's apartment* 

Team leader Nanami Kento grabs his mug of freshly brewed tea and goes to sit in his office to begin the work day. It's almost the same thing every single day but he enjoys the job so far. The team is responsible and quick, he can work quietly from home, and most importantly, the pay is much better than any of his past jobs. He'll be able to save most of his check and save enough to move to a better place soon. The current building was breaking down and it seemed that every neighbor had a new complaint every day. He really does feel bad for anyone that falls for the listing and is conned by the landlady who just wants to fill the apartments for rent. He should've known better, a two bed two bath for much less than anything in the area was bound to have its conditions.

He sighs thinking about the apartment but logs in for the day and begins reading through the emails that came in over the weekend. A few emails in and he hears a couple loud thumps upstairs. He knew Truman left last week but the landlady was very quick to con someone (again) to take that space.

Nanami sighs, "Welcome to the money pit, neighbor."

He continues his morning while hearing the furniture scraping across the floor to find its spot in the apartment. The heavier furniture was loud and slow and the lighter stuff was clear and quick. It should only be a day or two at most of this noise. That is, until he hears quick and small pitter patters from the living room to right above his office.

Nanami pauses and focuses to listen through the thin walls. He hears a very muffled, "This is my room, mommy! Mommy! Momma!"

A kid? Nanami wonders.

*Third floor, your apartment*

You swing the door open and pout at the old discolored paint. This apartment wasn't at the top of your list, not even in your top 10, but it was cheaper than everything else and close to Yunn's school. Mr. Truman warned you about this apartment but also said it was a good temporary spot for you and Yunn. At least until your application was approved for any of the other apartments, townhouses, or rental houses you applied for. Mr. Truman and Jessie promised they'd let you know if they ever passed by any 'For Rent' sign.

You move out of the way while holding Yunn's hand to let the mover see the space to know what to bring up first. They quickly scan the room and go back down to bring the first bunch of furniture. You walk to the kitchen bar to check the papers left on the counter and look up to see the movers with the couch and side tables. 

"Momma, can I go see the rooms?"

"Yeap, but remember what I told you please."

Yunn indeed does not remember and sprints off to one end of the apartment towards the smaller room. "This is my room, mommy! Mommy! Momma!"

You try to do a quiet tip-toe run after your daughter to get her to quiet down. 

"Stop running!" you catch up to your excited daughter. “Yunnuen, I had told you to please not run and not yell. Please, baby, we just talked about this.”

She looks up and nods but continues to look around the room. Mr. Truman had said that although the neighbors constantly complained about management, they were very nice to each other. He told you the downstairs neighbor wouldn’t mind a little noise but you wanted to avoid making any noise, period. Mr. Truman said the neighbor worked from home and the last thing you wanted was to disturb someone while they worked or become a nuisance when they're trying to rest.

“Knock knock!”

“Ms. Jessie!” Yunn ran to the room door where Mr. Truman and Jessie stood.

“The movers are in and out and the door is open, we hope you don’t mind that we came in!”

Jessie was Yunn’s old pre-k teacher. She knew everything from your work schedule, to Yunn’s dad, to your struggle of finding a new place. You both grew close throughout the year especially after Yunn moved up to kinder. Mr. Truman is Jessie’s father. He works as a janitor at the same school and saw you often when you’d stay a bit longer after school to talk to Jessie and let Yunn play in the playground. He had to move in with Jessie after a back injury and told you about his old apartment. He did warn you about the shabbiness of it but said it’d be alright in the meantime. The kind older man offered to help with any maintenance issues and although you agreed at the time, you knew you would never call the poor man to work with his injured back. You’d figure it out… you hoped.

“No no, of course not! You didn’t have to come! It’s your day off, you should’ve stayed home to relax.”

Jessie looks up from hugging Yunn, “Didn’t want to stay home. I can help put some of the boxes in the correct rooms and at least start unboxing a few things.”

“And I wanted to show you a couple things around the building. Most of the things in here are old and get stuck. We all have — or had for me, our own ways of doing things around here,” Mr. Truman smiled at you. The gentlest smile, similar to the smile he always had around Jessie. “Come on, follow me down to the mailbox. Damn thing always gets stuck”

If anyone knew the building, it would be him. You start to follow Mr. Truman out the door when you turn and tell Yunnuen to stay with Jessie and not leave her sight.

*First floor, mailboxes*

Nanami pushes his mailbox slot to get it open. He wasn’t expecting any mail but he was making time for the new upstairs neighbor to finish moving things in the room directly above him to make a couple work calls. He takes a coupon page from the inside and closes his box. 

“Be careful with the last steep step here, hold that baby’s hand tight when coming down or she might tumble one day.”

The familiar voice made Nanami turn quickly. Was that…? “Truman?” Nanami asked.

“Nanami! Hello boy, good thing I caught you here, there’s someone you should meet.”

You were a couple steps behind Mr. Truman, carrying a couple welcome bags with things the elderly neighbors had given you after knowing you were a friend of their close friend and had a little girl.

“Nanami, this is y/n, she’s moving into my old place with her little girl. y/n, this is Nanami, the downstairs neighbor,” Mr. Truman fumbles for the mailbox key you handed him on the staircase, “I’m gonna show her my trick to box 303.”

Only her and her daughter... single mom? Nanami extends his hand, “Well, welcome to the building, y/n.”

You shake his hand and smile, “Thank you, Mr. Truman mentioned you work from home. Please let me know if we get too loud, I’ll try to keep our volume down either way but please let me know if it’s too much.”

Nanami shakes his head, “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

You smile again, but still feel a little bad at the thought that Yunnuen could be running around while this man tried to work. Despite Mr. Truman telling you about this man's calm and patient behavior, you still wanted to avoid any extreme noise. It’s a temporary place, but you still want to be considerate to others.

Mr. Truman calls you over to show you how he would push the mailbox up and slightly to the left to get it open. Mr. Truman closes the mailbox after wiggling it around and continues to talk about the trash chute, the main doorway, avoiding the elevator unless you have heavy things, the never opened or available maintenance office, the broken window at the end of the hall, the flickering light on the 2nd floor staircase, and on and on and on. 

“Call me when you need something. I’m still close and know this building better than anyone, including that landlady!” Mr. Truman hits his chest to emphasize his point, making you smile. 

Nanami notices your hesitation about calling Truman, but excuses himself to go up to his apartment. 

“Don’t work too much, boy! It’s a holiday and it’s supposed to be a long weekend!”

Nanami gives a small smile to the old man, “Just a bit more today, promise.” He politely smiles, nods towards you and turns to leave.

Handsome, you thought.

Pretty, Nanami thought.

Thursday

*First floor, maintenance office*

Nanami opens the main entrance door and is immediately greeted by the warmth of the first floor. He pulls the bags on his right hand closer to himself and begins going up the stairs, but stops when he sees you trying to peek through the closed blinds of the maintenance office.

Nanami steps away from the staircase and walks a few feet towards you, “They’re supposed to be here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at least half day but I’ve never seen them open for more than a couple hours at a time. You might have missed them already.”

You quickly turn towards him, slightly disgruntled at the closed office. You put your hands on your hips and ask, "do you think they’ll come in tomorrow?"

Nanami slightly tilts his head to the side and without saying a word, you understood completely. You sigh heavily and pace in front of the office before pointing to the closed door, “Would you happen to have a number or contact for any maintenance person?”

"Yeah," he shrugs, but before you get too excited, he said, "Truman. He was our unofficial in-house maintenance man and he was the one that everyone called."

You hesitate before saying, "I wouldn’t want to bother him. His back is still hurt pretty bad and I wouldn’t want him on the floor."

"On the floor?" Nanami raises his eyebrows.

Nanami notices how you hesitate to answer, but you continue, "I noticed a small leak underneath the kitchen sink and I thought I just had to tighten it so I did but it’s been leaking nonstop since yesterday. I wouldn’t want to call Mr. Truman and ask him to basically crawl under my sink to figure out what’s wrong."

Nanami looks at his watch and sees he has 40 minutes left of his lunch. He looks back up, "I know we just met and I’m not a maintenance man but Truman did teach me a few things. Before you, I was the youngest in this building and he said every young man needed to learn how to handle things around his apartment," He chuckles at the memory of the older man happily walking downstairs to Nanami's apartment to help, "He helped me at first, but towards the end, he would just bring me the tools and supplies and watch me fix things on my own. I can go up and see what’s wrong with it, I have about 40 minutes left so I can at least check it out."

"Didn't you just say Mr. Truman would take his tools to you?" you ask, trying to find a way to sneak in a kind no, thank you. 

"Yeah but he gave me about half his tool box when he moved out. Said I’d need it eventually," Nanami grins at the memory, "guess he was right."

Nanami sees you hesitate again and look down the hall. I don't want to ask any neighbor for this kind of help, I just moved in and don't know anything about him, you think. But — I do need the help, I can't have Yunn in a place without a properly working kitchen sink. You cross your arms and tell him, "I wouldn’t want to impose. I haven’t even been here in a week and I would already be asking you for something."

Nanami smiles and shakes his head. "It would be no imposition," he nods towards the staircase and motions you to walk up with him. "And I think you’ve held out long enough, maybe longer than the rest of us. A lot of us came down to the maintenance office the second day we were here."

Damn... I guess I can repay him later?

You lightly laugh and start ascending the stairs with your neighbor. "I'm y/n by the way, I know the last time I saw you was Monday," you stretch your hand out and Nanami introduces himself again.

"How can I pay you back? I wouldn’t want a free favor and I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity."

"Well let’s see what the issue is first. But I really don’t mind, Truman helped me when I needed it most. I’d be happy to help."

You turned your face away from Nanami, but he saw your tight-lipped smile. You both reach the second floor and tell Nanami you have a few tools he can use so he wouldn't have to stop to get his tools. Nanami nods and gives a small ok as you slowly reach your apartment door.

"Let me just say that I haven’t really had a chance to organize things how I would like and my daughter is not very good at picking things up before school," you reach into your pocket for the key and start to open your door.

Nanami laughs a bit behind you as you open the door. If it weren’t because you and Truman have mentioned your daughter, or the toys splattered on the living room floor, he wouldn’t believe a kid lived above him. Besides the first day and the chaos of moving in, he never heard any small footsteps running around or a child's laugh through the walls. He was somewhat impressed that you had kept your promise about keeping the noise down, but he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed though. Maybe he was looking forward to the noise of a child's laughter, sometimes the evenings were too quiet or they were filled with the elderly neighbor's drama filled evening programs.

"May I?" Nanami points to the bags in his hand and a spot on the floor near your door.

"Oh, I can take those, we can just put them on the table."

Nanami shrugs his shoulders a bit, his heavy coat becoming heavier in your warm apartment. You put his bags on an entryway table and ask him to follow you to the kitchen. He had been inside Truman’s apartment before and even though he knows it's the exact same layout as his own, he says nothing and lets you lead him in. 

Nanami sees you keep a good few feet from him in your apartment and he honestly can’t blame you, you just let a new neighbor you don’t know into your house. He avoids getting closer than necessary to not make you uncomfortable and opens the cabinets under the kitchen sink. You open the cupboard beside the sink and take out your toolbox for him to use.

"Thank you," he smiles and gives you a quick glance before turning back to the pipe underneath the sink. He shrugs his shoulders again to try to shift the increasingly warm jacket and reaches for the wrench to start working on the sink trap.

You leave the small kitchen and head for the area on the other side of the bar. If Nanami looked up, he would be able to find you and you weren’t sure where to stand while he worked. You didn't want to hover, but you also didn’t feel like you should leave him completely alone since he was doing you a favor. You grab a closed box and start unpacking the extra dishes and utensils. You can’t see what he’s doing exactly but you hear a couple tools moving on the pipes and the clanking of other tools in the toolbox.

You grab another box and start removing the newspaper from the top when you see Nanami shrugging again. Since it was cold outside, you always kept your home slightly warmer for Yunn. You’re comfortable and not too warm in what you’re wearing, but a 6-foot well-built man with a winter coat must feel like an oven.

"Umm, let me take your jacket. I can put it by your bags so it’s out of your way if you'd like." Your neighbor looks up and although you can only see the top half of his face, you notice the slight sweat building on his brow.

"Thank you, I don’t think it’ll take much longer, but I appreciate it," he drops the tool in his hand and stands to take off his jacket. He was definitely handsome, very handsome, in fact, and apparently very helpful. You nod and smile at the man and quickly turn to put his jacket by the entryway.

You return to your spot on the other side of the bar and he stands back up after unpacking your third box.

"So the sink trap is going to have to be replaced. If you ask management for the sink trap alone, then they can get it to you maybe early next week. Can't promise they'll do anything for the labor part of it but they'll send the part somewhat quickly," Nanami closes the cupboard and reaches back down for the toolbox.

You nod and take a mental note of what he says, "Can you show me which part that is? I can change it as soon as they give it to me."

Nanami looks at you round the kitchen bar to move next to him and asks, "Are you sure? I’m sure you would be able to figure it out, but I wouldn’t mind coming back and switching it quickly. This alone took," he looks back at his watch and continues, "10 minutes." 

You shift your weight from one leg to the other and contemplate his offer, "That’s a huge imposition, I can’t ask you to fix or switch everything for me."

Nanami gets on one knee to put the tools back in the cupboard where you retrieved them from. "I work eight hours a day, but I don’t have an exact assigned time to work. I can take my breaks whenever I want as long as I finish everything so I'd be able to replace it even during a break."

You hesitate again, but he continues, "Truman never let anybody help him. With the condition of the sink trap, I imagine that he couldn’t fix this himself, but he would be willing to help any of us if we needed anything. Think of this as me repaying him."

"Actually, he probably wasn't even aware of this, his daughter would take him home with her a lot towards the end of his lease here," you look up to your neighbor’s eyes. Even though the thought of a complete stranger in the same house as your daughter makes you nervous, you admit that you might need that help. It might be worth trusting Nanami especially when Mr. Truman kept talking about him so highly after your mailbox interaction last time.

The man is now gently smiling at you, waiting for your answer, and you smile back. "I work at the office two to three times a week. I work from home the rest of the week. I can let you know when I finally catch management so they can give me or order the part.” You pick at your fingernail, “I want you to know that I really really would not want to ask for any help, especially anything keeping you away from your real work or anything of yours, but I really would — do appreciate your help."

Nanami gives you another small smile and says, "Great, just let me know. You can just knock on my door or give me a call." He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands you a business card. "It's my work cell but it's always on and I carry it everywhere."

You nod and take his card: Kento Nanami, Senior Mechanical Product Designer at Schneider Electric. Hmm, fancy. 

Nanami walks around you and heads to the front door. You follow behind as he's grabbing his jacket and bags from the table when he turns around to look at you. "I'm not sure if I should say this or not, but I really wouldn't mind if your daughter runs around a bit. I haven't heard anything from up here since the day you moved in... you don't have to be so careful. It's ok if you show a couple signs of life up here." He gives his last smile before opening the door, "See you soon, y/n." Nanami softly closes the door behind him. 

You stare at the door after his departure, his business card still in your hands. Show a couple signs of life up here. Anywhere else you've lived, you've been shushed through the walls and neighbors would complain about hearing your baby when you were trying your best to keep her quiet. You got used to keeping quiet ever since. Maybe it is ok — loud laughter, speaking a bit louder, maybe that much would be ok.

You smile down at the business card and put it behind your phone case for safekeeping.

Nanami returns to his apartment and looks at his watch. A little more than 25 minutes left for lunch. He sets his bags down and thinks about his pretty and nice neighbor. So she is a single mom. He sits on his couch and takes out his phone. 

Truman was no longer looking over his shoulder to make sure everything was being done correctly. Nanami did not want to mess this up.

Google search: how to replace a sink trap 

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Chapter 2: The Pizza and the Tooth Fairy

[liliewrites]

Requesting a NSFW transfem! Arle with fem!reader who works at the hearth & arle simps for reader but like reader is oblivious to all that cus like she's surrounded by kids almost 24/7. Somehow reader convinced Arle to bring the kids to a beach (I am not even sure if there's a beach in Fontaine but let's assume so XD). So on beach day, bringing a whole bunch of kids means a bunch of guards gotta be there (cus safety). So Arle sees reader wearing a bikini with a sash(is that what it's called I have no idea) since it's like hot out and then arle gets a pretty bad boner & rails reader in her room privately after the day at the beach. Since arle got jealous of the stares reader gets from the guards. (Sorry if its very long & no pressure.)

lmaoooo bare with me anon, this is giving me brainrot... jealous arlecchino. also forgive me if the ending is a little silly and my writing isn't that great waksjdk i rlly didn't know how to end it and this was supposed to be just a thirst lmaoo. anyw i hope u like this!!:))

- warning/s : transfem! arlecchino, jealous sex, creampie.

(men and minors dni under the cut!)

filthy, disgusting, outrageous-

oh, but arlecchino was not better than her men. those men- ogling and staring at you. it irritated her to no end. to her defense, she was simply watching over you and the children, it's not like she was busy staring at your.. pretty tits, nor was she staring at your.. plump ass. arlecchino was a woman of duty and responsibility, she was just here to watch over the kids, yes. as the father and head of the house of hearth, it was her job to ensure the safety-

oh who was she kidding? "fuck.."

she cursed under her breath, no matter how hard she convinced herself, she could not suppress her rushing emotions- especially the blood rushing down her pants. she let out a frustrated groan. oh, oh, archons, the fatui guards who were ogling at you were making her blood rush in annoyance, and your pretty figure exposed in broad daylight made blood rush in her pants. she couldn't help it anymore, she couldn't just stand by and watch you get eye-fucked by the guards.

she got up with a scoff. her tall stature, straight and stiff shoulders coupled with an annoyed glare was what greeted the guards.

"you buffoons, stop slacking off and watch the kids." she scolded them, not needing to raise her voice. they were not kids, they didn't need to be told twice to do their jobs properly, and hopefully the guards had immediately understood that she caught them staring at who was supposed to be hers, and had made it clear to not make the mistake of doing so again- or they will be fucked up.

after doing that, however, arlecchino could not afford any more time pass by without her making it also clear to you what you were making her feel- it was annoying her, it was getting on her nerves- how you act so clueless about the feelings she’d been trying to convey across to you for the past few days. so the harbinger walked towards you, grabbing your wrist with no explanation whatsoever.

much to your fear (and.. delight?), she brought you to her private room that she had rented for herself during the house of hearth’s whole stay at the beach, shoving you in just enough to force you inside her room, but not too much to actually make you fall on the floor.

"f-father? what's wrong-"

"do not call me father, woman. i am done playing these stupid little games with you."

pray tell, you were confused about what she said and you really wanted to know what she was talking about, as you were currently cowering in fear under the knave's harsh glare. she refused that you call her father, and she spoke with a tone that dripped with irk making you unsure of how to properly react to her as you were scared that you’d anger her further. "m-my lord, i am confused. what is it that you mean?" you asked, and she grabbed your wrist once more, pushing you on the bed and pinning you down.

"my dear, do not act coy with me. i have done all that i can to convey my feelings towards you, and yet you let those filthy men drool and fantasize about what i wish to claim as mine?"

you let arlecchino's words register for a moment. acting coy? feelings? claim as hers?

the dumbfounded look on your face was enough to make arlecchino realize that you had indeed not been able to grasp her feelings, you were not acting coy, nor were you pretending to be clueless. you really, really, didn’t know.

— for her whole life as an underling of the fatui and as a harbinger, a master of wearing a mask of apathy, a trained actor in the field of faux cruelty, she has never been able to experience embarrassment to this degree, and besotted! she couldn’t believe it was because of silly, petty feelings of romance.

she immediately moved away, feeling guilty and ashamed of her own actions, but mostly annoyed at herself- and those damned fatui guards. they were the reason for her acting this way, they were the reason, they-

you, however, noticed the little.. bump in her pants while sat there in silence, seemingly lost in thought (she was busy convincing herself it was the guards’ fault). you were as flustered as she was, of course, but seeing arlecchino, the feared knave, turned on and vulnerable because of you? it was plain to see that you had a little confidence boost and you ended up provoking the said harbinger, catching her off guard.

"my lord, is.. this because of me?" "what do you think, milaya?" "i don't know. i asked you because i do not know why you are so aroused and turned on, my lord. could it be because of someone else? oh, oh boo.”

now, now arlecchino was sure that this form of teasing from you was intentional. she looked at you with a rather dark stare, her earlier annoyed expression returning to her face, and she clicked her tongue.

”i was about to forgive you for being oblivious towards my displays of affection, but your behavior right now is inexcusable, my dear.”

she crawled back towards you, and you could feel a rush of adrenaline through your veins. you were no longer afraid, as you were sure that the knave held some sort of sentimental feelings towards you — you were unsure for now what it was, but to know that you were important to her, oh, it made you feel confident.

”milaya, accuse me one more time of loving another woman, consider this a warning, but i will definitely have to show you these feelings that pester me day and night because of you.”

”then show me, my lord, must i admit? i do not know the identity of the woman whom you clearly fantasize enough about to make you have such a.. hard-on”

oh, you’ve definitely pushed enough of arlecchino’s buttons today but now you really were riling her up on purpose? needless to say, no more words were exchanged between you, and the pretty little bikini that caused all this jealous fiasco of hers was ripped off of you (with the promise that arlecchino would buy you a new one, a better one.) and now you were face-front and pushed down against the bed.

oh, she definitely was not small. you could feel her fill you up and stretch you out. deep, harsh, thrusts were the only thing you felt. your senses were overstimulated with the sensations of her, everything was just her now. your mind was hazy, but all you could see was her white and black locks, framing her handsome face. all you could smell was her slightly woody smell, along with the musk coming from the love-making you both were currently doing. all you could hear was her grunts and your incoherent cries of her name. all you could taste were her lips pressed against yours, her tongue running against your lips as she separates. all you could feel were her hands gripping on your wrists, her hips slamming against yours and her dick reaching spots you never knew could even be reached, oh, oh and the overwhelming sensation of those little jolts of pleasure whenever she rammed against you. everything was just her, her and her—

”m-my lord, i-i can’t-”

”silence, you’ve irked me enough, take it.”

“milaya, my dear. oh how i’ve waited for this..” she grumbled in your ear, bringing you slightly back to your senses, before biting down on your skin that caused you to be fully awake and aware of everything again. the speed of her thrusts increasing but her rhythm had started to falter. it made you whine and whimper, you could barely understand what she was saying, the pleasure was messing with your train of thought.

”those dirty.. dirty bastards, staring at you- well too bad, because i am the one who’s fucking you right now. mine, mine. i could barely stand it.”

the jealousy on her face, the scowl and her gritted teeth as she continued fucking you to no end despite you already clawing at the sheets with how close you are. you could tell, her feelings were genuine, and if you weren’t fucking you’d be a flustered mess- not that you currently weren’t a mess. just a different kind. her lips wrapped itself around your pretty little nips, sucking on it and playing with it using her tongue in a rather aggressive manner. biting every now and then on your chest too, creating purple splotches on your skin that made her feel proud to see. however, with every single movement that she did to you, you inched closer to the edge.

as her lips latched onto that one particular spot on your neck, licking it, biting it— you swear you felt yourself black out for a moment, something snapping in your lower region and your whole body arched and convulsed. you’ve never felt an orgasm this intense. it felt so good. so fucking good, not just for you- but for arlecchino too.

”f-fuck, milaya, you take me so good- i-i- fuck-”

with a loud curse, her hips stilled and shook, slamming deep into you and you felt warmth flood your insides while you were still feeling the ebbs of your high. it made you have mini convulsions, as you were extremely sensitive from how rough she was pounding into you. panting, breathless, she didn’t pull out but she did collapse on top of you. her face shoved in your neck, and you knew she felt embarrassed as she refused to face you.

as you called her that title, she got on her elbows and hovered on top of you, looking at you with a stern stare. “milaya, you are free to call me by my name and not by any title anymore. please, call me by my name.” she requested, and it was.. so different from her commanding tone that you got used to. your heart melted at the noticeable vulnerability she was showing you, and it made you smile. “okay, arlecchino. i take it that we should go back to the beach and see the kids?” the sound of her name rolling of your tongue made her feel bliss, but the next few words that came from your mouth had reminded her of today's earlier events.

”.. my dear, i was not too rough with you, was i? i didn’t force myself on you, did i?”

”no, my lord.”

oh, right, the beach. arlecchino shook her head at the thought, knowing that the guards were there. she scoffed at the thought and returned to her previous position of burying her face in your neck.

“no. let’s stay here.”

”- but the kids- a-arlecchino!”

”i’m afraid that we’ll have to stay here for awhile, my dear. i have not shown enough of my love to you, and i wish to make it clear to whom you belong to.”

before you could even protest, she gently thrusted her hips once more to cut you off. “no, milaya, we stay here. who said i was done disciplining you?” she told you, voice low followed by a groan.

her pace was slow but deep, you could feel every inch of her rubbing against your sensitive walls. it made you tremble once more that you couldn’t find it in you to answer back anymore.

safe to say, you were unable to come out of the room for the rest of the day nor the following. you were worried about the kids and the kids were worried about you— but you were safe here in arlecchino’s room, and they were safe under the guards’ surveillance, otherwise they’d have to face execution if anything ever happened to them. surely, it wouldn’t be selfish of arlecchino have you all to herself without any distraction for a day, yes? it was a vacation after all!:3

a/n : owjhasjdh my bad, i forgot to include this, but milaya ("милая") is a russian endearment used for feminine lover hihi.

[entomolog-t]

Silly lil brainrot thats stuck in my head cause everyone's been talking about sizeshifters lately (AND I AM HERE FOR IT)

Just image a character looking for a roommate to help split rent, but their spare room is stupidly small. They put an add out, and get a few people coming by but no one wants that cramped of a bedroom, no matter how cheap they make it-

Until someone does.

They're frankly surprised- they figured at this point it was a lost cause but the person seems weirdly delighted??

Odd.

They are overjoyed at the price too- and character A can understand their joy- given the size of the room they were getting desperate price wise.

A week goes by and everything seems fairly normal. They put a lock on their door, but that seemed pretty standard when you're moving in with a stranger. They're clean, friendly, and pretty fun to be around- just a little forgetful, but who isn't?

By the second week though, Character A is noticing some weirdness. B doesn't seem to eat... They never see them cooking, theres nothing in the fridge, and they don't seem to go out for food either.

When A brings it up B brushes it off, saying they have a minifridge in their room and a lil personal stove. It seems like a good enough excuse until A realizes they've never seem them do dishes. Ever.

By the third week A is convinced theres something weird about B. They have to do some repairs on B's room and when they go in they're just in shock. It looks even smaller than before- B having put bookshelves along almost every wall- but theres no books in the shelves. Its all...

Miniatures?

Fantastically intricate rooms, ranging from something out of a fantasy castle, to influencer mansion type rooms. The longer they look, the weirder it seems though. The rooms are all connected- slides, bridges, ladders... Did they have a pet mouse or something??

Spying one room with a hamster wheel, A is convinced that B has the most spoiled pet in the world. Although... they never mentioned having a pet. Not that it was an issue, but A made it pretty clear that they should tell them if the have a pet in case of a fire or any type of emergency.

And then A sees it- or well, more accurately, doesn't see it.

They ... they dont have a bed??

Sufficiently weirded out but trying their best not to judge, A starts on whatever repairs they have to make, only to realize the project is not going to be a one and done job.

They let B know they'll have to go back into their room later this week and they work out a date and time-B assures them they'll be out of the house and will leave the door unlocked.

The day rolls around and when A goes to start the repairs they grimace. B forgot to leave their door unlocked. They really didn't have time for this. They give B a call, but it goes straight to voicemail.

With a sigh, they grab a credit card. It looked like a cheap lock anyways. Slipping the card between the door and frame they manage to bypass the lock with ease. It really was a cheap thing...

As they go to start the repairs, a little bit of movement catches their eye.

A small lump curled up under the covers of a massively luxurious bed.

Awe! So they did have a mouse!

and it slept under the covers?? Adorable.

It had to be pretty well trained if it didn't have any sort of actual cage? Maybe it was a rat? They could be pretty smart... though it was small.

Curiosity peaked, A pinches the tiny covers in their hand- not without noticing how incredibly soft and high quality they are- pulling the covers back.

A small hand rips the cover back, and they here a muffled

"Five more minutes..."

Eyes wide, they freeze, the world around them feeling frozen in this bizarre moment. A second passes. Then another.

The tiny figure in the bed bolts upright, head turning to A.

Their eyes lock in the most awkward dual realization.

"What are you doing-"

A interrupts them, holding up a tool.

"Repairs were today."

B nods, eyes wide.

"I uh... I forgot about that."

_____________________

I JUST THINK IF I WERE ABLE TO SHIFT SIZES I WOULD BE LIVING THE MOST LUXURIOUS LIFE

"BuT eNtO, DoNt YoU wAnT tO bE bIg?"

Yes obviously, but in this economy?? In the privacy of my own home I'll subsist for month off of 10$ in groceries thank you very much.

[flowerbetweenfangs]

Cream Filling: Chapter Two

Warning: abusive ex partner/stalking

(Abusive ex appears and scares the mc, but nothing happens)

This is part two of a series. You can find part one here!

Elle felt a sense of relief wash over her when she turned the sign to closed. Once she locked the doors, she picked up a broom and began to sweep.  Humming softly, she paused when a shadow loomed over her. Turning, she looked up at the face of her coworker. 

Wrecks drummed his fingers together, his face pensive. 

“Hey.” She set the broom against the wall as Horac came through with a pile of dishes, grunting and snorting with the effort. 

“Shepard.” He began. 

“Please, call me Elle.” She interrupted, feeling her cheeks flushed at the last name. It was better than Elodie, but only just barely. They’d been working together for nearly four weeks, and he still acted so formally. 

Then again, she had terrified him the first day.

“Elle…” Wrecks drew out the syllable as if the single sound baffled him, before scowling. Clearing his throat, Wrecks removed his spectacles and wiped them off. 

“I have a favor to ask. And I’m terribly sorry to put you on the spot.” He patted at his pockets, before producing a carton of cigarettes. 

“I need a smoke. Join me?” 

They exited through the kitchen, with Wrecks lighting up. He offered the pack to Elle, but she shook her head. 

“I’m not sure how up-to-date you are on Drider culture.” Wrecks began, taking a long drag. Silvery green smoke floated up toward the sky in thin tendrils. Whatever was in the cigarettes wasn’t tobacco or cannabis. 

Elle shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t want to be rude and badger you on the job about it.” The scent of the smoke made her nose itch. Earthy, with a strange dankness. 

“Well.” He sighed. “Normally I don’t ask anyone this, but I’m in a tight spot.” Another drag. “The Festival of Arachne is coming up, so a lot of Driders are going to be swarming this part of town.” 

“Need a date?” Elle asked, before chuckling at his flustered expression. 

“No.” He said sharply, dragging out the vowel and making a slicing motion through the air. The smoke danced at the reaction. 

“Quite the opposite. I need to be far, far away from all of it.” He sighed. “I still have to work, since we’re shorthanded, but…”  

Inhaling sharply, he pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his spectacles up to his forehead. “I called around. I can’t stay in a human hotel without paying an exorbitant fee. And all the local ones are going to be filled to the brim with attendees.” Swallowing, he stubbed out the cigarette and stuck it in the breast pocket of his vest. 

“Can I stay at your place the week the festival is being held here?” He clasped his hands together. “I’m not saying I’ll be by myself while you’re at work. I’ll still come with you to the morning shift, but I want to… Minimize my exposure.” 

“Horac has his kids, and they’re terrified of me. Ram has his own place, but it’s too close to… All this. Night shift is going to be busy…” 

“Wrecks…” Elle bit her lip, “I live in a studio apartment, in the Leviathan district.” She felt her cheeks burning. “We’ll be in close quarters.” 

“I will pay half your month’s rent.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his wallet. “And I’ll buy groceries and pay for anything I use.” 

The one thing she couldn’t refuse. Money. 

Wrecks’ cheeks flushed, his pleading expression making it hard to say no. 

“You can’t smoke inside. Landlord’s rules.” She was trying to figure out how to fit him in her car when Horac bellowed for them to come back inside. 

“It’s bad enough when Spinner is rushing out for a smoke every hour.” The Boarman chastised when they came back in. “Don’t you slip into the habit, too.” 

Elle sighed, rolling her eyes and picking up a rag. He was right, but it still made her nervous to even fathom losing the job. She was going to make up for it by cleaning so well, they’d see reflections on every surface. 

***

Wrecks was silent on the drive back. His suitcase fit in the front seat, and he took up the entire back. His legs pushed the button to roll the window up and down. The breeze stirred Elle’s hair, making a few strands tickle the back of her neck. She kept her eyes on the road, but the sound was starting to get on her nerves. 

“You’re going to break it.” She warned him. “I’ve got the AC on, why do you keep messing with the window?” 

“Sorry.” He rolled the window up. “I’ve never been in a car before.” 

The statement baffled Elle so much she nearly pulled over to look at him. But traffic was too good to slow down. 

“How do you get around?” 

“I generally walk. Or swing.” He cleared his throat. “Webbing has many uses. I used to have a bridge from my place to the restaurant until some kids burnt it.”  

“Hopefully not while you were on it.” Elle frowned. 

“Arachne, no!” He shook his head. “Caused some damage to a local shop. The poor owner had to shut down for two weeks. Ramses paid for it all.” Sighing, he set an elbow on the armrest, rolling down the window. Eyes wide, he quickly rolled it back up. 

“Because he takes good care of his employees?” Elle asked, half laughing at the quote, before images of her first day flashed through her mind. Focusing on the road, she tried to ignore the tingling between her legs. 

Wrecks stifled his own laugh. “Yeah.” He looked around. “Can I smoke in the car?” 

“...Let me pull over.” 

“I can wait!” He insisted. 

When she pulled into the complex, the parking lot was mostly empty. Good. The fewer questions she’d have to answer, the better. 

Wrecks fell out of the back seat, unable to get proper footing in all six of his legs. After righting himself, he went to grab his suitcase. 

“I’m impressed you can afford this on your pay.” He remarked, looking at the entire building. "The things I heard about this side of the district made me think it was a shantytown."

Elle shook her head. “I wish.” She pointed at the top floor. “I live in one unit.” 

Locking her car, she began to head for the stairs. Wrecks hadn’t moved from his spot, still taking it in, a look of awe on his face. 

“What kind of place do you live in?” She grabbed his arm and tugged gently. The contact broke him out of the trance, and he began to follow her. 

“There’s a nice area not too far from work, right on the border between the Mammon and Satan District.” Wrecks explained. “A little swampy, but secluded.” He sighed. “But around this time of year, it’s unbearable.” Pulling his glasses off, he rubbed his brow. 

“Like a…” He frowned, trying to find the appropriate comparison. “...Let’s just say I wouldn’t be getting much sleep.” 

When they arrived at the door, Elle hesitated. She hadn’t brought anyone home since she’d moved in. Even with her frenzied cleaning, she hadn’t unpacked half her belongings. This place was barely lived in. 

“Do you… Not want me to come in?” Wrecks’ grip tightened on the handle of his suitcase. 

“It’s a little messy.” She admitted. 

“I’ve seen a nest after a clutch has been born.” Wrecks assured her. “It can’t be that bad.”

As the door creaked open, Elle flicked on the lights, making sure to kick off her shoes. Holding her purse close, she sidestepped to let Wrecks inside the available space in the living room.

The apartment was cramped, with her mattress taking up a third of the available space. At least she’d made the bed before leaving. There was a coffee table next to the bed, her laptop open and switched off resting on it. Bookshelves covered the walls, filled with her favorite texts and various magazines. Boxes filled most of the free space on the floor, with a small line to get to the kitchen, bed, one corner, and bathroom.   

She went to the corner, kneeling next to a small table. Lighting the half-melted candle, Elle counted her tips for the day and placed them in an envelope. 

Once she’d pressed a rune into the wax, sealing it, she set the papers aflame. Before the fire reached her fingers, it flickered away, leaving her hands closing on empty air. 

“I thought you weren’t a mage.” Wrecks was behind her, staring at the table, head cocked to the side. 

“I’m not.” Elle cupped the flame and blew it out, the scent of magic in the air. “I just use it to pay bills and send letters.” 

Wrecks pointedly looked at her laptop, raising a brow.

“When I don’t want them to trace it or bother me.” Elle crawled under his legs, standing once she was behind him. “You know how it is.” 

Going to the bathroom, she undid her buns and started to wipe off her makeup. The thought of dressing in the bathroom for the next week made her nearly groan in annoyance. But at least she’d have money. Even if it was only a little. 

When she came out, Wrecks was picking up various things from the floor and placing them on the coffee table and bed. Her clothes, powerstrips, he’d even gone to the kitchen and seized her empty cups and plates she hadn’t washed. 

“What… Are you doing?” 

He froze, slowly turning and picking a glass he’d just set down back up. “Sorry.” He looked around at the boxes scattered around the apartment, fingers twitching. 

Sucking in a breath, Elle looked around. “Is it going to bother you if my apartment looks like this?” It was an excuse to finally unpack… It had been a month. 

“You see…” Wrecks collected the cups and took them back to the kitchen. “A Drider will make their home kind of a… A nest? Since this place is so small.” He winced apologetically. “I just started…” 

“It’s okay.” Elle found herself smiling and giggling. “It’s actually kind of adorable.” She took a box and set it on her bed. “Help me unpack then?” 

There wasn’t actually much to organize once it was actually done. There was more clean-up than actual unpacking done. 

Breaking down boxes, hanging up and folding clothes, washing dishes seemed to ease the anxiety Wrecks was feeling. He was running the vacuum when she went to the kitchen and pulled out leftovers for dinner. As the container spun in the microwave, she realized. 

“Can you eat human food?” She knew there was a Monster Market down the street, but they closed before sundown. 

“Hm?” Wrecks put the vacuum cleaner next to a bookshelf. 

She pulled out the container when it was finished. “I wasn’t expecting a guest. I’m not sure what you all eat. We can go shopping tomorrow.” He had offered to buy groceries, after all. 

“Hm…” The kitchen became more cramped as Wrecks looked in the fridge. She once again found herself crawling under his legs to escape. 

Pulling out a package of defrosting meat, he sniffed it. “I think I can have this?” Holding it up, he stared at a few stray drops of blood trickling down his fingers. 

“...Sure.” Elle went to her laptop and shoveled down leftover rice and beans, doing her best to ignore the chewing sounds coming from the kitchen. Should she have gotten him a plate and utensils to eat with? 

Booting up her laptop, Elle suddenly remembered what she’d been watching before going to sleep. Her headphones rattled with the moans of a woman. They were plugged in, and she hoped Wrecks’ hearing wasn’t better than a human’s. 

A video of a woman moaning, bent over an altar, as a goat-headed man pounded her from behind flashed across the screen. Elle scrambled, managing to exit from the video in record time. Reopening her browser, she loaded up a TV show. 

Hovering back, Wrecks squinted at the screen. Elle patted the spot on the bed next to her. Slowly, he approached and prodded at the mattress with his front legs, before settling down awkwardly, tucking limbs under himself. 

Raw meat clung to his hands and he continued to eat, lapping at the blood on his fingers, trying to be quiet about it. He seemed transfixed by the show, his eyes wide and focused the entire time. Elle wondered if he had internet at his place. 

Wrecks washed the dishes again once the episode was over. Elle realized he was still in his uniform. 

“Erm, do you want to change into something more comfortable?” 

Wrecks looked down at his vest. 

“I suppose.” He cleared his throat, before rifling through his suitcase and then taking his new attire into the bathroom. Elle focused on the screen as she heard rustling and rattling, followed by noises of discomfort. 

“You alright in there?” She called. 

“Tiny…. Space!” He yelped, followed by a loud thud, and a metallic bang. “Ow!” 

Elle rushed into the bathroom, seeing Wrecks in the tub, the shower curtain wrapped around him, and the rod across his midsection. His legs twitched, running on the air and attempting to find solid ground. 

With a sigh, Elle offered her hand. He took it and she pulled him up, a task she didn’t think possible, then helped him out into the living room. Sighing, Wrecks unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. 

Turning her head, Elle gave him privacy but caught the Drider’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. His upper body was bony, void of any muscle, with a strange spider tattoo across his chest, his veins dark and resembling a web for it to sit on. 

He caught her looking, and sighed. 

“It’s Arachne’s mark.” He placed a hand on it. “I wanted to get it removed, but it turns out that isn’t an easy fix.” 

“Wait, I thought Arachne was the goddess or something?” Wrecks never stuck her as religious. 

“She is. But she still has followers in the material realm.” He pulled a t-shirt over his head, then let undid his braid. His hair fell down around his shoulders in a shaggy white mane. 

Her mind went to when she’d ingested the Admodues fruit, and how she’d tried to kiss him. How he’d shoved her back and tied her up, afraid. The thought cooled her off, and she gave him room to sit. 

At nine, she found herself nodding off. Wrecks was dozing himself, sharply inhaling when his head lulled. 

“I’ve got some extra blankets if you get cold,” Elle explained as she began to pile pillows on the floor. “As you… Saw.” 

Wrecks watched her curiously. “I don’t need them, but thank you. Why are you nesting on the floor?” 

“Because you’re the guest. So you get the bed.” She resisted the urge to suggest they share. 

Reaching down, Wrecks poked the mattress with his smaller foreleg again. 

“I don’t think I’ll be comfortable.” Tilting his head back, he looked at the ceiling. Raising his human arm, he knocked on the wall, placing his ear to it. Nodding to himself, he cleared his throat. 

“Can I make myself my own bedding?” 

“Um… Sure?” 

Elle watched as he used his webbing to create himself a hammock-like structure just below the ceiling, right above a bookshelf. Hopefully, it would hold, but his movements were practiced and confident, so she didn’t ask. 

Crawling back onto the mattress, Elle cocooned herself and settled down for the night. Her alarm would go off in a few hours. Hopefully, Wrecks wasn’t a grump in the morning. 

***

The candle lit. Elle jerked awake and saw the table in the corner glowing with the light of the fire. After a few heartbeats, the flame went from orange to pink. Arching a brow, Elle debated going over and blowing it out. Maybe someone had tried to communicate with a local mage and wires got crossed?  

Slipping off the bed, Elle went to the table and knelt. 

Her blood ran cold at the sight of the figure in the flame. In the magenta glow of the fire, stood a demon. Even though it was obscured by a pink tint, Elle knew it too well. 

Wavy brown hair framed his face, two flesh-colored horns growing from his brow. His eyes were purple, with black sclera. He grit his teeth, showing fangs that she certainly remembered. 

He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, with purple runes and symbols twisting up his bare arms. His hand paused, tracing a pattern in the air, his nails seeming to retract as he lowered his fist.

“Elodie.” He crooned, the name twisting around her with Power. “Let me in, babe.” He leaned against something on his side, eyes coming close to whatever he was using to scry. “I know you’re right there.” 

He pulled back, his hand hovering in the air, offering Elle to take it. She stared at it, seeing the pink fall away, the flesh taking on a peachy color. Despite knowing she shouldn’t, she reached for it. 

Then, Elle had her mind back. Blinking, she scraped her nails against the wall as her hands became fists. She started to stand, but the flame grew brighter, lighting up the room better than any bulb could. 

He was manifesting, his scent overpowering her. Breathing caught in her throat. It was like the berries all over again, the way her body was reacting. No. She had to stay focused. 

“What do you want?” Fear and anger warred in her chest. How could he have found her? No one was supposed to know about her current residence. The table was supposed to cloak her location from any scryers unless she gave permission. 

“Aw. I wanted to see you.” He reached for her, but his hands shook. Small waves of Power rose from the floor. 

A threshold had finally formed… Not enough to keep him from coming through, but he would lose a lot of his power or injure himself to push past it. She thought about rushing back and grabbing her charm, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. 

“I see you’ve gotten comfortable.” Anger started to creep into his voice. 

Elle took a step forward, about to smother the candle. She reached for the tool on the table.  

“Fuck off, Adrian.” 

She went to snuff it, but he reached through the threshold and put a hand on the douter. His skin blistered and twisted, the runes glowing with heat. Lip twitching, he took another step toward her, the veins in his face contorting. 

Then, his eyes widened. 

“A fucking Drider?” Clenching his jaw, he released the door, reaching for the front of Elle’s shirt. “What, you can’t take a dick anymore? So you have to have someone who doesn’t-” 

A hand shot over Elle’s shoulder and seized Adrian by the wrist. Pink power twisted around, and she saw it glowing brightly against grey skin. 

“Raise your hand like that again, and I’ll throw you into the Underdark.” Wreck’s voice was raspy with sleep. Elle hadn’t even heard him get out of bed. 

Adrian yanked his hand back, teeth bared. 

“Careful who you threaten, Drider.” Rolling his shoulders, Adrian slammed his hand against the barrier. 

“You know he’s never going to give you what I did!” He hit the barrier again, his hands twisting to claws. 

Blood and sparks showered Elle, and she raised her hands to shield herself. A hand grabbed the nape of her neck and pulled. She screamed, starting to thrash as she heard the flame snuff out. 

“Shepard!” Wrecks shook her. “It’s me. Keep your mouth closed.” He produced a rag and wiped her face. “Demon blood is toxic. If you swallow it…” 

Elle’s teeth chattered and she shivered. Wrecks cleaned her face, his expression solemn. 

Putting hands to her face, Elle doubled over and took in deep breaths. 

“You’re shaking.” 

“I’m fine.” She said, with more anger than she intended. Swallowing, she straightened and staggered to the mattress, plopping on it. Wrecks picked up his spectacles and put them on, coming over with the rag and offering it. 

She shook her head, putting a hand to her cheek. It was sensitive, probably burned from the blood. 

“Can you get my work uniform?” 

“You’re going to work after that?” Wrecks asked in disbelief. 

“We’re shorthanded. And if I don’t go, neither do you.” She felt the urge to run, to grab her important papers and flee once the sun came up. 

No… This was her place. She wasn’t going to give it up. All she wanted to do was scream, her eyes going to the corner table. Some cloaking spell. 

Fabric brushed against her arm. Looking up, she saw Wrecks with her uniform folded over his forelegs. He’d thrown on his button-up shirt but had left it undone. 

“Are you okay?” She took the uniform and held it to her chest. 

“I just…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I thought he was going to hit you. It was hard to tell because…” He waved a hand in front of his glasses. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you want me to call Ramses?” 

The name made her stomach drop. “No. Leave him out of this.” 

She went to the bathroom, staring at the red splattering on her cheek. Touching it, she winced. It was like a wicked sunburn. At least she could take a petty comfort in the fact that Adrian hurt himself enough to bleed trying to get through. 

Prodding it a little more, she shook her head. It would sting, but if she didn’t cover it up, there was no doubt in her mind word would get back to Ramses. As Elle dressed, she tried to psych herself up. 

Work was good. It was money. And once the last bits of her debts were paid off, she could save up to sever this tie once and for all. 

Her reflection was blurry as she applied foundation. Face stinging, she sniffed and shook her head. She could cover it up all she wanted, but the pain would always be a reminder. Even if he never got physical, Adrian could still find ways to hurt her. 

Once she decided her face was presentable, she exited the bathroom and the apartment, locking the door and deadbolt. On her way to her car, she tossed the candle in the garbage after breaking it into thirteen pieces, as she’d been instructed to. It neutralized the spells it could cast. Saving for a new one… 

Wrecks paused to smoke, but his eyes scanned the parking lot. She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. He’d been trying to stay out of trouble, and she’d drug him into the middle of it. 

The drive was silent. Elle stared at the road, Wrecks sprawled in the backseat, rubbing his forelegs together in what looked like a self-soothing gesture. The window was cracked, the morning breeze rolling over them both. 

“So, who was he?” Wrecks prodded. 

“An incubus I summoned when I was young and dumb.” Elle sighed. “I didn’t read the fine print.” She shuddered at the memory. “I’d rather not go into intimate details.” 

“Could have stopped at ‘incubus’.” Wrecks laced his fingers together, resting them on his stomach. “He called you ‘Elodie’.” The Power crackled in the air. 

“And he said you didn’t have a dick. Both things we didn’t…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Wrecks shrugged. “He’s right you know, and-” 

“Don’t.” She warned, before sighing in relief as they approached the restaurant. Horac was there, talking on the phone and rubbing his face. 

“Behave for Mama, alright?” He quickly hung up, giving them a two-finger wave.

“Morning.” He grunted, before watching with fascination as Wrecks attempted to get out of the car. “You alright, Elle?” 

“Rough morning.” Elle went to Wrecks and pulled, freeing him from the vehicle. He stumbled, before righting himself and smoothing his shirt. 

“Uptick in tourists.” Horac pulled the front door open. “Expect a busy day.” 

He fixed a human-friendly coffee for Elle (they were to keep at least one edible meal for her in the restaurant at all times, and to inspect every ingredient that came through) and the sludgy liquid for themselves. 

The coffee helped wake Elle up and stave off the anxiety. She still felt jittery. But the feeling of something about to snatch her away started to dissipate. 

Horac eyed the two of them, before sighing. 

“Look, did something happen?” 

Wrecks looked at Elle, eyes urging her to speak. 

Sighing, Elle looked at her mug. The man had kids. He knew when things were off. 

“My ex showed up this morning. Things got a little heated, but he left.” She looked to Wrecks. “It’s nothing you need to go to Ramses about.” 

“Did you call the human authorities?” Horac crossed his large arms. “Or the Guardians? The Church?” 

Elle sucked in air through her teeth. “It’s more complicated than that.” She rubbed her face. “But he’s a coward. He won’t come after me during the day.” Like all Demons, he was weak to the sun. He’d puff out his chest at someone, but physical fighting was beneath him. And if he saw Horac, he’d never come near her. 

Horac sighed, nodding. 

“Let’s open up. It’s almost five.” 

***

Elle hadn’t seen so many Driders in her life. They chatted as she wove through tables. Occasionally, one would do a double-take at the human serving their pastry or coffee. She craned her neck, trying to see if any had the same marking as Wrecks. 

“So, it is true.” One whispered as Elle scurried by with a tray of dirty dishes. “He does have a human working for him.” 

“Do you think that means the rumors about the intact male working here are true?” 

The phrase made Elle go stiff for a moment, having to mentally tell herself what to do rather than rely on muscle memory. The phrasing was so odd it gave her pause. Suppressing a snort, she ducked in the kitchen and noticed Wreck was further back than normal. He was intentionally staying away from the window. 

And he hadn’t gone out for a smoke since they’d opened. 

There was no way… Elle found her head tilting, but shook herself when she realized the implications. 

The breakfast rush ended, with Wrecks throwing himself out the backdoor for a smoke. Elle picked up her phone and saw it had been blown up with calls and texts from an unknown number. Sighing, she blocked it and wondered if it was time for a new one. 

It would be a shame she couldn’t even celebrate the bonus and extra tips all the customers were passing over. 

“I swear their numbers get bigger every year,” Horac commented, breaking her daze. “I’ve heard rumors they’re going to move the festival to the Beezelbub district next year.” He looked at the freezer. “We’re about cleared out.” 

“The truck’s going to be here tomorrow,” Elle assured him. “And worst case, I can run to-” 

There was a loud thud as something hit the side of the building. The two shared a look of confusion before Elle headed out the front door. As she rounded the building, she saw a bunch of webbing all over the ground and side of the building. 

“-think I can’t smell you?” A voice broke through the air. “What the fuck, Wrecks? Why are you hiding out here?” 

“Calamity,” Wrecks whined in response. “You’re hurting me.” 

Peeking around the corner, Elle saw a female Drider pinning Wrecks against the wall, her human arms holding his wrists above his head. Webbing and threads tangled his legs, so getting away would be impossible. 

Wrecks caught her eye, and he shot back a piteous look. The universal expression of “help me.” 

“You’ve got a duty to your people and Arachne.” Calamity argued. “And you’re wasting it playing chef for a demon?” 

“Excuse me.” Elle approached slowly, her cheek burning. 

Calamity whipped around, front legs flexing. Glittery black eyes stared down at Elle. There was no question she was beautiful, human or Drider. Her features were sharp, each eye glittering like onyx in the sun. Long hair fell around her hips, accentuating her tasteful blouse and scarf. Even her fingers were well-manicured, rings sparkling on each one. It made Elle suck in a breath. 

“Fuck off, human.” She sniffed. “This doesn’t concern you.” 

Elle walked closer, not breaking eye contact. Her legs threatened to give out.

“You’re hurting Wrecks.” Elle struggled to keep her voice steady. “Leave him alone.” 

Calamity snorted, brushing a curtain of black hair from her eyes. She was a lot taller than Wrecks, and towered over Elle. If she whipped her legs, it would send Elle flying. 

“You think because you have a Demon Prince for a boss that means you can order Underworlders around? Because you’re in for a rude awakening.” 

“A what now?” Elle’s shock must have shown, barely registering the first part. Calamity’s expression darkened, silvery drool dribbling down her lips. 

“Enough!” Horac bellowed, voice rumbling hard enough to rattle the windows of the restaurant. “I normally wouldn’t hit a lady, but if you don’t stop harassing these two, I’ll make an exception.” 

He and Calamity glared at one another, before she broke free, slashing Wrecks across the stomach, tearing his shirt and vest open. His cigarette carton fell to the ground. 

When she walked past Elle, the hatred of her expression was palpable. 

Running to Wrecks, Elle pulled at the weaving. The webbing wasn’t just sticky, but it also seemed to have… Something on it that tore at her skin. While it didn’t leave gashes, there were tiny cuts that would be a pain. 

“Ah…” Wrecks winced. “Stop pulling at it.” 

Rolling his shoulders, he yanked his legs free. The motion sent a crack up the wall. They both stared at it with wide eyes. 

Swallowing, Elle offered her hand to him. His fingers wrapped around hers, and she led him back inside. Even though he probably didn’t need it, there was a silent appreciation. 

“Should we call an ambulance?” Would he even fit in one?

“I’m fine.” Wrecks assured her as Horac locked the backdoor. “She didn’t break the skin. Although I did like this shirt.” He tried to hold the tattered ends together frowning when they came apart. 

“This is going to be a bitch to fix.” 

Elle knew it had to be serious. Wrecks rarely even rose his voice. To have him swearing, even if it was a ‘minor’ one… 

“Well, she must have rattled you up pretty good if you’re cursing like that.” She said, grabbing a paper towel and using it to soak up the blood blossoming on her palms. 

“Shepard, I can have a filthy mouth, I choose not to.” Wrecks held this hands over the rip and sighed. “It’s hard finding shirts in my size…” 

Horac sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, tusks wiggling in irritation. “This is the kinda crud that night shift is supposed to deal with.” 

They didn’t reopen for lunch, with a bandaged covered Ramses on the phone with a local contractor. He apologized to Wrecks over and over, promising a bonus, paid overtime. 

“It’s fine, really.” Wrecks assured him. “I’m just sorry for breaking the building.” 

“Buildings can be replaced,” Ramses replied. “You can’t.” He rubbed the phone’s screen against his brow. “We may have to close down for the festival.” 

“Horac and I can handle it.” Elle piped up, not wanting to go back to her apartment. “Maybe only close for lunch so you can prep the bar?” 

“The full moon is coming up, too. We’re out of food until tomorrow… All these thirsty Driders will probably be wanting drinks…” Ramses groaned. “Ugh. Too much is happening at once.” He smacked the heels of his palms against his horns. 

“Perhaps I could help?” A sing-song voice called out. With a crack like a whip, Tanpopo was sitting on the front counter, fanning himself with a menu. 

Ramses put himself between the Kitsune and Elle. He made a fist, the residue on his hands beginning to seep through the bandages. 

“Oh relax, Mammy.” Tanpopo set the menu down, pulling out a proper fan and unfolding it. Waving it, he sighed. “I’m not here to play with your human. I’m here because I want to make a deal.” 

“Want me to throw him out?” Horac asked, popping his knuckles loudly. 

“Oh, call off your Pig, Mammy.” Tanpopo scowled. “I don’t like these Driders anymore than you do. The heat makes them aggressive. The less of them concentrated in one area, the better. Besides.” He smirked. “Having a Demon Prince owe me a favor would be simply divine.” 

“How about you leave before I skin you alive for drugging my employee.” Ramses lip split, red drops spilling on the floor. 

“Oh come now, you can’t put all that on me.” The fan snapped closed. “She didn’t have to eat the cakes I brought her.” He looked pointedly at Horac. 

“And weren’t you supposed to be a deterrent? Shame you chose to leave early that day. Are your Piglets at home doing well? Your Sow?” 

The Kitsune grinned. “Now, if we’re all done being squabbling children.” He tapped the fan to his lips. “I keep a favor on retainer, you get some extra hands.” 

“No.” Ramses shook his head. “Never darken my doorstep again.” 

“Fine. Your loss.” With another crack, Tanpopo was gone. His voice faded slowly. “And here I thought you would want a profit.” 

“Boss?” Horac asked. 

“Go home. I’ll handle things here.” Ramses snarled. 

“Understood.” Horac cleared his throat and was out the door. “I’m gonna pick up my kids.” There was worry in his voice. 

“I’m sorry, Ramses.” Wrecks stuttered. “I-” 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Ramses forced a smile, which made his fangs show. Elle felt a flush of heat go through her. Even if it was fake, the Demon was dazzling. “I knew the risk when you took you on.” 

He turned to Elle. “He’s staying with you?” 

Elle nodded. “For now, until the festival is over.” 

“Good. Head home.” Ramses’ tone left no room for debate. “I expect you to perform up to par or better upon return.” 

“Yes, sir.” Elle nodded, about to turn when Ramses grabbed her arm. Gently, so she could pull free with little effort. Even the slight touch made the liquid start to bubble under the bandages. He kept his face stoic, despite his eyes becoming watery with pain. 

“Are you okay?” He nodded to her hands, his eyes scouring her face. Could he see the marks left by Adrian? 

She pulled herself free before he could.  

“Of course!” Elle forced a smile of her own, before turning to Wrecks. “You ready?” 

***

Wrecks was fiddling with his shirt for what felt like hours while Elle watched him and the show she’d put on. Finally, she dug out her sewing kit. 

“No!” He insisted, “I can do it.” He clutched the shirt protectively. 

“You’re driving me crazy!” She set the sewing kit on the coffee table. “Give it here.” She held out her hand expectantly. 

“No.” He hissed, before crawling up to his mini nest. 

Elle sighed and rubbed her face before she settled back down on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing to talk about.” He said sharply. “Calamity was a friend. Things changed.” Realizing his tone, he sighed and set the shirt down, descending and sitting next to Elle. 

“Drider women get crazy this time of year.” 

She watched him rock, forelegs rubbing together. 

“And you’re not?” 

Wrecks looked toward the window. “Can’t work, can’t go outside, my mind is racing.” He shut the blinds. “What do you do to relieve stress?” 

Elle raised a brow, pausing the show and closing her laptop. They weren’t watching it anyway.  

“What’s that look for?” 

“I don’t think you’re ready for that answer.”  

His face screwed up in realization. “Shepard!” 

“You asked.” 

He rubbed his face. “I forget humans are always ready to go.” He laid back on the mattress, legs pointed straight up. It was almost comical. 

“How do you put up with it? I can barely weave two thoughts together.” 

Elle rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m constantly humping anything that moves.” She held up a finger when he opened his mouth. “The Asmodeus Fruit was a one-time exception, and I was drugged.” 

Wrecks closed his mouth, eyes rolling to the side as he pursed his lips, before opening it again. “How did that work out, anyway?” 

The memory of Ramses’ hands over her body, his lips on her skin… Elle shook her head. They’d agreed not to talk about it. 

“He had the antidote. I drank it and we were fine.” She answered quickly, cheeks burning. There was some truth to it. “Although I did give him a run for his money.” Her legs clamped together, the sensation of the silk binding them… 

“Your bindings helped a lot.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s one of the first things we learn to spin. It’s pretty easy.” As he spoke, he wove a few strands around his wrist. “And tying things up… It’s a useful skill.” He swallowed. 

“I prefer to use mine to make things.” He paused, braiding the silk into a bracelet and passing it over to Elle. 

Slipping it on her wrist, Elle watched it slide down. It rested above the crook of her elbow, a small silken spider dangling from the braiding. Wrecks looked disappointed at the result. 

“It’s fine!” She assured him, slipping it around her throat. “I’ve always been more of a choker girl, anyway!” 

He stared at the spider, flicking it and giving a slight smile. 

“Last year, I made some clothes for Horac’s daughters. The silk in Ramses parasol? I made that too.” He smiled, “I didn’t really… Pursue my passions in childhood. I was one of Arachne’s chosen, so I was slotted for other purposes.” 

“Oh.” Elle winced. “You weren’t like… In a cult or something, were you?” 

“Depends on your definition.” He shrugged. “Arachne’s followers have their beliefs. A woman was punished by the Gods to become a spider because she mocked and bested them.” He sighed. “And those who were nearby or came to her defense were cursed as well.” 

Taking more strands, he began to weave them around his fingers, making a cat’s cradle. “Talented weavers, but cursed in their own ways. Some Driders follow without taking it to the extreme, but…” He dropped a few strands, forming “witch’s broom”. “If you were one of her ‘chosen’ you’d be in a cage.”   

Elle put a hand to her throat, touching the spider. “Why aren’t you working as like… A tailor or something?” 

Wrecks shrugged. “I’ve always liked cooking, too. The wages for a Drider in the textile business can be… Lower than you would think.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “I don’t want to bore you with Underworld Politics, but let’s just say Ramses is rather… Progressive for our kind.” 

Our kind? Elle opened her mouth to ask, but closed it, letting him continue. It made sense demons and creatures of the Underdark communicated and interacted regularly. 

“Anyway, I wanted to make you something. I’ve been wanting to spin all day it’s been driving me crazy. Having someone else give me orders… It’ll help.” He slid more webbing around his fingers. “I guess being a follower never really left my nature.” 

Elle stared at it, before biting her lip. So many uses for ropes… 

No. Focus.  

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” 

Wrecks shrugged. “I’ve gone to therapy about it. They gave me some good coping mechanisms. But this time of year… It’s hard. Because I want to partake, it’s part of my culture.” His forelegs rubbed together so much, Elle worried they would spark. 

“But I don’t want children. If I father a clutch, any like me will relieve my childhood. And those who aren’t… They’ll grow up in the Underworld or on the fringes of society.” 

‘The intact male…’ 

“I thought you said Driders didn’t…” Her eyes went to where skin met chitin.

“Most don’t,” Wrecks corrected. “An intact male… It’s a rarity.” He inhaled sharply. “Driders are about 75 percent women, with the remaining 25 percent consisting of males, mostly neutered. I couldn’t give you an exact number, but maybe one out of eight clutches will produce an intact male?” 

“Normally, they would give someone like me a little harem or something, never have to work a day in my life. Luxury, wanting for nothing. In exchange, I could never leave the Underworld, and once the Mating Season began....” He let himself trail off, sighing deeply. 

“But I didn’t want that life.” Sighing, he shook his head. “I know this is sounding like a pity party… Poor little privileged Drider complaining about how his perfect life sucked.” 

Elle put a hand on his shoulder. He stared at it, then gave a strained smile. 

“If you didn’t want it, you didn’t want it.” She chuckled nervously. “I understand why you tied me up now.” 

“I generally don’t do it.” He cleared his throat. “When you tried to kiss me, I was worried that some of the berry residues would get on me and it would trigger my mating cycle.” The blush spread down his neck. “I grew up with very aggressive pursuers. And we can be… Violent when mating.” 

Elle slid her hand off his shoulder and put it in her lap. “I’m sorry.” 

“You were under the influence, so I don’t hold it against you.” He stroked her hair. “When Calamity had me tied up and struck me, it got triggered.” Swallowing, he nervously rubbed the back of his head. 

“You see… When Driders go into their cycles, they pair off and mate for the duration of it. Sometimes, there’s combat involved.” 

“Combat!?” Elle sputtered. “Why?” 

“Because we’re predatory. A female needs a strong male to fertilize her clutch. Otherwise, the children born will most likely be neutered, so the legends say.” He rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “Usually, a dozen or so are born per cycle, but maybe five will make it to adulthood.” 

“Oh.” Elle swallowed, suddenly feeling guilty. This sounded barbaric. She thought of Calamity, her anger. Had she had children that…? 

“It’s… Complicated.” He tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Elle’s ear, the touch making her shiver. “I know you stepped in as my friend and I was looking at you when it got triggered. If you had been a Drider, it would have probably mate bonded us for the cycle.” 

Elle blushed. “I’m not looking for that kind of commitment.” Or another Adrian. The thought made her shiver. 

“Oh. No!” Wrecks waved his hands. “I didn’t mean to imply that! But… When you kissed me that day, even if you didn’t consider it one, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I… Really was flattered. I know outside the Underdark, I’m… Rather frightening. What made me special is common here.”  

He swallowed hard, tongue flicking across his lips, leaving a silvery residue. “And when you came to my rescue, I felt the same pang that I normally would when trying to bond. I know we’re different species, so you probably couldn’t even comprehend such a thing-” 

His face fell, “Not that I’m implying you’re too stupid to, or anything, but-” He inhaled sharply and rubbed his brow. “I have six feet, and I’m shoving them all in my mouth.” 

Elle patted his leg closest to her. “I get what you mean.” 

“Even though we aren’t bonded. Can’t be bonded.” Wrecks explained, “I’m… happy you still came to my aid. And… I do think you’re attractive. And it’s not just the attempted bond talking.” He twisted a section of hair around his finger, staring at it. “I’m not… Good at these types of things.” 

“That’s okay.” She focused on the laptop. “I won’t hold it against you. And I know you’re… Sort of under an influence of your own.” 

Swallowing, he rubbed his hands together. “But it will only last a week or so. After that, my feelings will plummet right back down to platonic. And I do have some self-control.”

She swallowed, closing her eyes. A way to regain control… 

“Why not have fun then?” Elle asked. “You can blow off some steam, and don’t have to worry about a clutch.” 

Wrecks sputtered. “Shepard! I… Look, I know I’ve probably put you in an awkward spot. But, you’re my friend and coworker first. Erm… Well, I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to and…” Realization dawned on him as she shot him a look. 

“Oh.” He paused. “Wait, you… I mean, the incubus was one thing, but-” 

“Do you need a minute to process?” She felt her cheeks flush. 

Lips were on hers. Front legs wrapped around Elle’s hips, pulling them close. Bitter liquid pooled in her mouth.

Gagging, Elle pulled away and spat, seeing silvery liquid on the coffee table. 

“S-Sorry.” Wrecks gave her a rag. “That’s venom. It’s harmless, though. I keep myself on a strict diet to remove the toxins.” He watched as Elle dabbed at her lips. 

Her mouth tingled, but there seemed to be no ill effects.

“Just caught me off guard.” She found herself smiling, despite it all.

“Do you want to stop?” He swallowed, setting her down. 

“It’s fine!” Elle assured him. “Just uh… Warn a girl next time.” 

“Then… Do you mind if I undress you?” 

“Let me do it.” She pushed him against the mattress, straddling him. His legs tangled with hers. 

Grabbing her shirt, Elle pulled it over her head. 

Wrecks stared at her bra, before looking horribly confused. He ran his hands over it, before pulling at the cups and straps. Elle sighed, and reached back and unhooked it, knowing she’d have to educate him later. 

Wrecks reached up, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Then, he leaned forward, circling his tongue around it, teeth grazing the tip. 

More venom dribbled down her skin, the tingling following. The sensation made Elle’s nipples go erect, the arousal fanning inside her. A soft moan escaped her and she ground against him. 

“I guess that means I’m going it right.” Wrecks chuckled, holding onto her hips. “I’ve never felt a breast before. They’re soft.” He held it in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Drider women… Don’t have to-” 

She put a finger to his lips. “You’re not with a drider. You’re with a human.” 

Eyes wide, Wrecks slowly nodded. Hands trailed lower, and Elle slipped out of her pants, smashing breasts to his face to do so. When she settled again, his cheeks were inflamed.

He stared at her panties, frowning as his forelegs tugged at the waistband. It snapped against Elle’s skin, making her yelp. 

“I don’t want to rip it.” 

“Slow down.” She laughed, slipping his shirt off over his head. “I don’t even know where to touch you.” 

“It’s still flesh like yours above the waist.” He guided her hand over his chitin, around where she assumed a human groin would be. There was a slit. It was widening at her touch. Running her fingers over the edges, she felt him squirm under the touch. 

Then, she tried to stick a finger in. 

Wrecks flinched, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulders. “No. That’s not what that’s meant to do.” Elle quickly pulled her finger out, resting a hand on the widening hole. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m fighting against biology, hold on.” 

“Maybe you could try tying me up?” She suggested. “Make me a conquest?” 

“You wouldn’t be able to stop me, then.” Wrecks shifted. “I could hurt you.” 

Elle leaned forward where his neck and shoulder met. She planted a kiss, then sucked hard on the skin, using her teeth. 

Wrecks yelped, grabbing the back of her head. “You’re going to leave a mark…” He whimpered when she moved across his collarbone. Something slick and hard pressed against her, fluid trickling down her thighs. 

Staring at the mark on the Drider’s neck, Elle ground against him again. 

“You’re drenched. I can feel it, even through your panties.” A leg tugged at the waistband. He ran his lips over Elle’s, before pressing hard to the nape of her neck. Their mouths locked again, and she threw her arms around him. 

One leg pushed her panties to the side, and she felt him pressing. Slick and wet, like a very stiff tongue. She wondered if it would be colored like his skin or the chitin.

Reaching down, she guided him inside. Wrecks gasped, hands and legs digging into her skin. More drool and venom dripped onto her cheek. 

“I keep feeling the urge to attack you.” He winced.

“Do you want to stop?” It pained her to say, but the distress was obvious. 

“Just…” His cheeks were purple, “Take control?” 

“Can you make any webbing?” 

He nodded, and she used it to bind his wrists above his head, using the wall to secure it. The legs behind his cock were bound together, and his legs above it to his thorax. Unlike Calamity’s, his webbing was smooth.

He whimpered at first and Elle worried that he would be reminded of Calamity, but his (black!) cock was drooling and erect, and he nodded in approval. More venom drooled out, but he assured her it was normal. 

Lastly, she bound his neck with a leash so he couldn’t rear up and bite her.  

“You alright? Knots aren’t too tight?” 

“I’m… Fine.” He blushed as his cock twitched. “You’ll have to teach me how to do this.” 

Putting her hand at the nape of his neck, she gripped the leash tightly, holding it in place as she straddled him, slipping back onto his cock. The motion made him gasp, his abdomen rocking so he could penetrate further. 

The length was almost too much to take, but she knew how to work around that. Rolling her hips, she found a rhythm that worked. Resting against his bound forelegs, she planted a kiss on his jaw, which made him shudder. 

He thrust against Elle, the motion sending warmth through her body. She pressed her free hand to the wall, continuing to rock her hips and take him nearly to the base. 

Wrecks moans and whimpers grew louder, and she debated gagging him, but knew it would only make him panic. 

“I have neighbors, remember?” She hissed. 

“S-Sorry. Just feels too good.” He gasped, the bite mark on his neck nearly turning black.

 Tingling on her skin made Elle’s skin pebble, each thrust drowning her in wave after wave of pleasure. Leaning down, she covered Wrecks’ lips with her own. Venom pooled in her mouth, more salty than bitter this time 

The barrage of her mouth and tongue made Wrecks’ body grow scorching hot, the binding suddenly ripping apart, tattered silk flying everywhere. His legs wrapped around hers, spreading them wide. Forelegs pulled them close together, holding Elle against his chest as he began to thrust with vigor, hilting each time. 

“F-fuck, Elle…” 

She couldn’t help it and laughed. 

“What?” He swallowed, brows raised. 

“It’s just… The first time you’ve ever called me by my first name.” And if she had her way, it would be said several more times. 

She stayed close as she felt the pleasure building, her high-pitched gasps filling his ears. The noise encouraged him further and he pushed as much of himself into her as possible, before yelping when she clenched. 

Back arching, Elle shuddered as the orgasm hit. The sudden change made Wrecks flinch. His legs dug into her like nails as his own body trembled, the stimulation too much. His cock twitched, fluid spilling out of her and onto the bed. 

And just kept coming. 

“Ah!” She yelped, trying to disentangle herself and save the blankets. 

She should have laid down towels! What was she thinking? The more she struggled, the tighter Wrecks’ hold became.

“S-sorry. It’s for a clutch, remember?” His legs twitched, holding her in place until he finished. "I'm not holding you like this on purpose." His cheeks flared. "I have to make sure you, uh, get... Fertilized. Even if it's not possible."

Once he released her, she pulled him onto the floor. Switching on her fan, she let the cool air roll over them as they tried to catch their breath. 

“Are you okay?” He brushed damp wisps of hair from her face. 

“I’m fine.” She chuckled, smiling. “I guess that’s one thing off my ‘fuck-it’ list.” 

“Your what!?” 

With wobbly legs, she managed to get to the bathroom and rinse off, barely able to stand for the short shower. 

When she came out, he had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and was trying to clean the comforter with a wet rag. 

And bleach.

“Wrecks!” She about full-body tackled him. 

“I was trying to fix it!” He said awkwardly around the cigarette. His front legs twitched, pulling her into an awkward embrace as they wrapped around her thighs, just under her rear. “Because I wanted to… Try again.” 

Elle felt herself blushing, even more so when she saw the head start to peek out from the slit again. Swallowing, she retrieved towels from the bathroom while he tossed the comforter to the side. 

“Okay. But we’re going to do it right this time. And you still have to smoke outside.” 

Next part here!

[syoddeye]

thinking about gaz specializing in vip protection.

gaz x gn!reader | ~660 words. tags: stalking, threats of violence and sexual assault, italics a/n: written on my phone during a lunch break, so there's that. apologies for any formatting issues.

gaz knows from the outset that the gig’s gonna be rough. that it’s not the usual kind of vip protection.

the client’s a victim of stalking and harassment. poor thing’s found dozens of foul messages painted on their front door, ranging from angry diatribes to garbled nonsense. letters left in their mailbox. notes tucked under their car’s wipers. their phone number and email address have been compromised repeatedly, and no amount of changing them shakes the bastard.

gaz does his best. he is the best. on the first day on the job, he lays out the ground rules and implements checks. they’re extensive. he sweeps every nook and cranny of the house when they leave or arrive. he looks under the beds, in closets, and behind the shower curtain. the client doesn’t set foot outside unless he gives them the okay. with their permission, he installs additional cameras and alarms. he’s insistent. he won’t take any chances, won’t compromise their safety. never failed a client, doll. not gonna fail you.

for a few weeks, the new measures work. the routines are strict but effective. gaz's client sleeps through the night. they stop losing their hair. they even feel safe enough to leave the house for public engagements.

his heart swells with pride. it’s flattering when his vip boasts about his skills and how safe they feel around him. he sees the lines between the personal and professional blur, but he doesn’t stop them from hanging off his arm when he escorts around town.

but the threats return with a vengeance. the stalker escalates. the tone shifts. the messages turn violent. sexual. they don’t just target the client this time, but gaz, too.

can't wait to fuck you on top of his body. 

stop making eyes at him or i'll gouge them out. 

gonna make him watch me fuck you, gonna make you watch me kill him.

gaz tries to comfort them. he phones old friends and calls in favors. whatever it takes to catch the bastard, he’ll do it. however, when someone tries to break in one night, the vip reaches their breaking point. gaz returns after chasing the would-be intruder off and finds them in hysterics. they can’t do this anymore. no amount of money or fame is worth it. they weepily announce a hiatus, quit their projects, and withdraw from their social life. they sever ties with their management team because, for all they know, they’re the ones leaking their information.

they rent a remote property under a pseudonym and use cash. they pick somewhere idyllic, surrounded by nature. time in isolation to clear their head and hopefully throw their stalker off the trail. of course, they keep gaz on as their personal protection. they trust him. they like him.

the land's beautiful. quiet. from the house, they can see for miles around. there isn't a chance that someone can sneak up on them out here. and with no internet or phone service, and mail only available for pick up an hour away, no one can reach them either. peace at last. the client thanks gaz for sticking by them. anything for you, doll.

that first evening, while walking the perimeter, gaz calls soap on his sat phone.

—you're well and true fucked in the head, sergeant.

—i thought i wrote pure poetry. they fuckin' worked.

—affirm. you on your way?

—aye. comin' in quiet like ye asked. ready to play hero again? gonna share?

—s'pose you've earned it. see you soon.

sure enough, there’s a dark shape outside the bedroom window when gaz checks. a crouching body, fogging the corner of the glass like a panting dog, invisible unless one knows to look. gaz gives the all-clear and excuses himself. he needs to relax. sweet dreams, doll.

just as he eases into an armchair, a blood-curdling scream echoes through the house before it’s abruptly cut off. he smiles to himself and takes his time, enjoying a drink. he might as well give soap some exclusive access before showtime.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett blurb 18+

hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."

[tokkias]

down bad ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: There's nothing special about the day that Natsu first notices. It's a day like any other he spends with Lucy, but maybe that's the reason why, because he can see himself doing this with her for the rest of their lives, and he doesn't even mind that he's already wading in far too deep in the ocean of love. ao3

happy nalu day!

There’s nothing really different about the day Natsu first notices. It’s not like the sun shines brighter or the birds sing louder than they do any other day; it really is just one like any other. He rises with the sun like he does every other day and cobbles together some passable breakfast for him and Happy before they take on the day.

It’s a nice day outside—warm and sunny but with enough clouds that Lucy won’t spend the day complaining about her decision to not wear sunscreen that day. It would be the perfect weather for a day job, but it's the last Friday of the month, which means it’s errands day for Lucy. With rent taken care of for the month, she makes sure to take care of any other tasks she needs to deal with by the end of the month, and taking menial tasks around town is the perfect chance for Natsu and Happy to follow her around all day. She complains about it every time they do, but makes no real effort to stop them and even treats them to lunch on occasion. It’s become something of an unspoken routine for them, and there’s nothing really unusual about today. It truly is routine.

She’s just coming out of the building when the duo arrives because they’ve done this so often that their internal clocks seem to have synced. She seems to light up when she meets his eye—or at least he thinks she does. Lucy’s always been the type of person to perk up around her friends, but he selfishly hopes that the little glimmer he sees in her eyes right now is reserved for him.

“Natsu! Happy!” She calls out, raising her hand to wave to them as they walk over.

“Hey, Lucy,” he grins.

She doesn’t usually dress up for the occasion because there is no occasion to dress up for, but she’s always well put together. Her ponytail is slicked up and falls in tresses over her shoulder. Rosy blush accentuates her cheeks, and her lips have a slight gloss to them that makes Natsu lick his own. She looks really pretty today. Granted, she looks pretty every day, but he’s never really given much thought to it until now. Lucy being pretty is just a fact of life that he has come to accept, so he doesn’t pay it much mind, but today she just looks like she bathed in sunshine before she showed up, and he feels inclined to take any chance he has to look at her just a little bit longer. There’s no real tangible difference that he can put his finger on why today is different because she doesn’t look any different from normal, but he feels he just notices it more. He feels like he’s being discreet about it, but it doesn’t slip by Lucy unnoticed.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Looking at you like what?”

“I don’t know! Weird! You’re looking at me weird! Do I have something on my face?” She asks, her brows knitted together in concern.

He doesn’t think he’s looking at her weird, or at least he doesn’t mean to.

“You just look nice today,” he tells her.

He can see in her expression that she’s taken aback by his casual candour. He’s not usually so sweet, and he knows she would be the first to notice. The look of surprise on her face quickly turns into one of annoyance.

“Are you making fun of me?” She accuses.

“What? No! Why would I be making fun of you?”

She narrows her eyes at him slightly and doesn’t reply right away, as though she’s weighing up whether she should believe him or not. When it becomes clear that he’s being sincere, she seems to soften a little bit.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet as she bashfully averts her gaze, but he hears her as clear as day.

They don’t have to talk about their plans for the day because they’ve done this a million times before. It’s all boring, menial stuff, but it’s not boring if he’s doing it with Lucy. They make their way around Magnolia, past places he remembers introducing Lucy to for the first time, but are now familiar stops on this route she’s come to know like the back of her hand. She takes them to the bank, the post office, the pharmacy—places he probably never would have gone to before meeting her, but he now holds a fond familiarity for. They exchange pleasantries with the workers they’ve come to recognise, who know their routine just as well as they do. Natsu’s never been one for strict routine, but this is one he doesn’t mind. It feels somewhat… domestic. Domesticity wasn’t something Natsu ever saw for himself until it seemingly fell into his lap, and he finds himself comparing antihistamines with Lucy on a Friday afternoon.

He doesn’t mind it—if anything, he likes it. He looks forward to their errand day and enjoys the time he gets to spend with Lucy. He would never enjoy doing this stuff on his own, but when it’s with Lucy, it doesn’t matter what they’re doing as long as they’re together. He makes it a point to call attention to silly things he finds as they walk the aisles of stores. She smiles, and then she laughs, and Natsu doesn’t think he’s seen anything quite that bright in his life. He would be happy if the rest of his life looked just like this.

Their reward for being Lucy’s pack-mule for the day—the thing that had Natsu and Happy first tagging along all those years ago—is the prospect of lunch in the middle of all this. It’s a quaint little place in the middle of town that they’ve become regulars at. Natsu’s memorised the whole menu at this point, a feat that may come in handy if Lucy ever followed through on her claims that she’d like to try something new the next time they came, but she always ends up with the same order as last time. The waitress flashes them a smile, and they don’t even have to say anything before the barista is already fixing up Lucy’s chai latte. Déjà vu hits him when the same granola bowl that Lucy orders whenever they come is brought out, topped with yogurt, sickly sweet honey, and fresh, juicy berries. He, on the other hand, chooses to switch things up and orders something new this time—it’s the biggest burger they could possibly serve him with so much cheese that it drips down onto his plate when it melts, and a side of fries to boot.

He has better table manners now, at Lucy’s insistence. She’s loosened up since they first met, but she’s still drilled the rules into his head. Sit up straight, no elbows on the table, knife in right hand, fork in left, no licking the knife, and absolutely no burping at the table. He certainly doesn’t follow them all the time, but in Lucy’s presence, it’s a small sacrifice he’s happy to make. It’s a little hard to keep good manners when what he’s eating is as messy as this, but he tries his best, and Lucy sees and appreciates it.

Between bites, he notices her eyeing up his fries. She’s not one for greasy foods like him, but she’s not immune to the delectable aroma of his well-seasoned fries and the various dipping sauces that come with them. Even if she tries to hide it, he notices the temptation in her eyes, and she soon caves.

“Can I try some?” She politely asks.

If it were him, he wouldn’t have asked permission and would have instead gone straight in, but Lucy has always had better manners than him.

“Yeah, sure,” he answers, not giving it much thought.

It’s not until she is already taking from his plate that he considers that Lucy is the only one he would even consider letting do that, and then how easy it is for him to say yes. He shares everything in his life with her, so there’s no reason to stop at food. He’d give her everything and the clothes off his own back for her, so letting her eat off his plate is merely a small blip in the grand scheme of sacrifices he would make for her. He watches her take a bite, and her eyes light up, and she can eat the whole damn plate if it means he gets to watch her smile like that. She offers him some of her food, but he doesn’t take it, instead nudging his own over to her in an unconditional offer. She pretends she’s not interested in it for a brief period, but when she realises he sees right through her, she gives in. He doesn’t even mind that she eats nearly all of them.

Their final stop takes them to pick up groceries for the next week. Natsu’s in charge of pushing the cart—a privilege he’s had to earn back after crashing one into a stack of cans one time, but he has better special awareness now. He still rides it down the empty aisles, but as long as he doesn’t cause any trouble, Lucy pretends not to notice. Happy sits in the cart seat and relishes in all the attention he gets when fellow shoppers coo over just how cute he looks. They look like a happy family, and it almost feels like they are one too.

They’re shopping for Lucy’s groceries, but they’re just as much for Natsu and Happy as they are for her, even if she doesn’t want to admit it out loud. The implication of admission comes when she asks for their opinions—what do they want for dinner next week when they inevitably crash at her place, what brand of pasta sauce do they prefer, what snacks should she stock up her kitchen with for them. She always claims she’s not buying anything more than they need, but Natsu knows how and when to flash her his puppy dog eyes to convince her to buy him a little snack for the way home.

Magnolia is awash in an orange early-evening glow when they finally make it back to Strawberry Street. Lucy walks along the side of the canal, just like she always does, and Natsu is content to watch. The sun highlights her golden hair as it falls across her shoulders, where it frames her face perfectly. His eyes are drawn to her lips, which are quirked up in a small smile as she looks in front of them. As if she notices his gaze, she looks up to meet it, and he gets to see that smile in all its glory. It makes his heart tighten in his chest, and all he can do is smile back.

Carrying her groceries up to her apartment for her is his least favourite part of the day, and it’s not because he doesn’t like being her pack mule. If he minded carrying her stuff around for her, he wouldn’t be doing it all day, but when he lugs them up the stairs, it signals the impending end of their time together, and it never fails to bum him out. He takes the last precious moments they have together, taking his time as he helps her put her groceries away. When they’re finished, she rewards him with a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso and her head resting against his chest. He reciprocates eagerly, his chin resting atop her head. Happy only pretends to retch in disgust a little bit.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” She says, hand resting against the doorframe as she sees them out.

“See you tomorrow, Lucy!” Happy gleefully replies.

Natsu leaves her with one final grin before they descend down the stairs.

“See ya tomorrow!”

When he gets over the initial wave of grief that comes with leaving Lucy, there’s a sense of contentment that overflows him. His heart just feels so… full. Even though he was just with her, there’s this ache he feels in his chest of sheer excitement for the next time he gets to see her. Natsu’s never really been the type who was incredibly in touch with his emotions, but what he’s feeling right now—not even he can deny. He flops down onto his hammock, his gaze up at the ceiling as a smile crosses his face.

“Hey, Happy?” He calls out, attracting the attention of the exceed.

“Yeah?”

There’s a moment of quiet between them—just a beat as he gathers his thoughts and considers the way the words might feel on his lips.

“I think I’m in love with Lucy,” he finally says.

“Yeah, I know,” Happy replies.

His little buddy’s reply causes his lips to quirk up slightly at the corners. He supposes it’s something they’ve both known for a long time now, but it’s just taken him a while to fully put the pieces together. Even though it’s seemingly not a surprise to hear, it feels good to say it out loud.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He’s giving him a look as though it were obvious, and maybe it is, because Lucy is the easiest person on earth to love, and he doesn’t know how he didn’t realise it earlier. He’s always been a man who’s full of love, but the love he feels for Lucy is different and fulfilling in a way he can barely comprehend. As he lingers on it, he realises he gets to spend every day with her for the rest of their lives, and he feels like the luckiest man alive.

There’s a large, dopey grin on his face as his brain is plagued with all thoughts of Lucy, but it feels so good that he doesn’t even mind when Happy teases him about it the rest of the day.

[swanimagines]

Hello! Can I request D47. Letter with Kaz Brekker? 😘

Prompt: D47. Letter

Kaz had gone missing. 

It wasn’t unheard of, your boss was often going on his “walks” and just happened to come back with a DeKappel, but you having new intel that should be told to him as quickly as possible, him being absent was particularly frustrating.

Jesper had seen him standing by the bar, looking even angrier as he usually looked like when Jesper was going to the kitchen. When Jesper had greeted him, Kaz had told him to shut up, and after Jesper came out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee, Kaz had disappeared into thin air and had been away from the Slat since. You had checked all the usual places he was in. The Crow Club, the usual places around the Barrel, the roof, the harbor and no sign of him anywhere. You even asked from the harbor if there was a chance he had gone to the Black Veil Island for some reason, but no one could confirm they had seen him rent a boat there. You had also asked the barkeeper Joris about him, but he had just shrugged, telling you he hadn't seen him either even though he was scheduled to come meet his new employee. The poor boy had sat in the backroom for over two hours, sweating so much because of being nervous that Joris had thought he could even melt.

All of it was making you pace around the house. Your fellow Crows were telling you to calm down, but you just couldn’t, the opportunity you had was a golden bullseye, Kaz would be incredibly angry if he found out too late.

You had followed that old rich fool Van Benschoten for months, just waiting for him to slip, to lose his guard, to show you how to get into his manor’s cellar. The man was an idiot in many ways, but he had had his wits present when he had chosen his security architect. It had been incredibly hard to find out anything about it, because he kept changing it up every few days, and tomorrow could be too late for this information.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you decided to climb into Kaz’s office to wait for him there, to make sure he wouldn’t be able to slip by your attention. You knew he didn’t like you or Inej going there without him being present, but if you happened to fall asleep, Kaz would wake you up once he came back.

“Kaz?” you called out from the window just in case, even though you didn’t expect to get an answer. And you didn’t. You slid into his dark office before you lit the oil lamp and took a seat across from his desk. You stared at the door for a while, but then turned your head to his desk. Maps, a blueprint, one of his ledgers, and… in the corner of your eye on the floor was a crumpled paper.

Your name was written on it.

You swallowed, looking around as if to make sure no one sees you looking at it, that Kaz wasn’t hiding somewhere observing what you do when you see it. And you knew you shouldn’t snoop. It was nothing, probably. Likely. But what would Kaz write about you, that got him so worked up that he’d crumple it up, toss it aside and march out of the Slat in a burst of anger?

But still, you found yourself picking it up from the floor and carefully straightening it. It was clear Kaz had squeezed it into a ball before throwing it aside.

Was it the reason why Kaz had been angrier this morning, barking at Jesper like that?

You just couldn’t help yourself, just a few words, you promised to yourself. You just want to know what it's about, if it was something important. Maybe something to do with one of the upcoming jobs.

The ink had dried, but it had still been wet when Kaz had crumpled it up. Most of the letters had blurred, but you were able to distinguish what one paragraph said despite it. You took in a deep breath and began reading.

“I wanted to tell you yesterday. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. What use would it be, why would you want me? I’m broken, I wouldn’t even be able to hold your hand, I wouldn’t be able to tell you my feelings, you’d always have to guess and speculate. It wouldn’t be fair to you. Ghezen, these times I wish I would be able to be like others, I—”

The rest of it was too smudged to read, and you lowered the letter slightly, standing up and starting to pace. Your heart was thumping as you stared at the words, they didn’t sound like Kaz at all, and you doubted your eyesight for a moment, wondering if it was someone else’s handwriting instead.

And your name in that kind of letter… did it mean Kaz had feelings for you? After all this time of you believing he had feelings for Inej?

Then it hit you, and your shoulders slumped. He was sketching a letter for Inej, and had accidentally written your name into it. You had seen them together, they had their moments, their own language, heads pressed together in the corner as they shared secrets. It couldn’t be you. Or maybe Kaz had thought about asking for your opinion about the letter draft, a bizarre idea, which is why it had your name.

Then, you suddenly heard the key turning in the lock, and you quickly threw the letter back on the desk to see Kaz coming through the door. He stared at you for a moment, and you dug your pocket before finding your written-out intel, barely being able to hold his gaze. “Van Benschoten is ready to be picked, I found out this morning.”

Kaz narrowed his eyes on you. “What were you doing?”

You swallowed. “Waiting for you. And, uh… I saw my name, and I thought…”

His eyes flickered on the letter on the desk. “Have you always read things that aren’t yours?”

You felt like your heart stopped as you quickly stepped aside, trying to blurt out an apology, but Kaz ignored you, striding over and grabbing the letter, crumpling it into a ball again.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry, I thought it had something to do with the job, because it had my name on it. I thought you had left it for me to read.”

He leaned over the desk, throwing the letter into the trashcan before looking at you. “You surely saw it wasn’t about the job once you read the first word. It’s personal, not for you to read.”

You nodded, lowering your gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He was quiet for a moment, before he looked at the little paper in his hand you had given him and sat down, placing his cane next to him to lean against his desk. “Tell me about Van Benschoten.”

You sat down immediately, starting to spurt out everything you had found out. “He changes up his security arrangements every few days, but he has a secret hatch behind a small hut in the garden. I bet we could get to his treasure chamber from there. Inej agrees, I talked about this with her this morning.”

You continued your explanation, tracing your finger along the blueprint in front of Kaz, and once you had finished, he leaned back. “I will send out Inej to scout ahead. Jesper will handle the guards. Wylan creates the distraction. You… you will guide us to the hatch. You’ve seen it in action, I trust you know how to open it?”

You nodded, clasping your hands behind your back. “I do.”

He stood up, picking up his cane again. “Good. Let’s move.”

---

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[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol.

5 years,

5 long years, of nothing but love and trust but more than that. Of course honesty, right?

Well on yn’s end there was definitely honesty. Jungkook’s? Not so much. You see there is this dark secret that jungkook has been hiding since they met 6 years ago…

It’s so deadly that it could possibly end their relationship if she found out about it.

She was so beautiful, so calm and gentle with him, he loved that side of her. Hes never seen her angry, sad, or even hurt. He never wants to see that side of her.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be the reason he sees that side of her.

Like now, There are siting on their shared bed, in their shared bedroom, in their shared apartment. Telling the truth, would risk him loosing all of this. He cant have that.

Jungkook looked at her then smiled, “ You are so beautiful you know?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head. YN blushed lightly staring up at him.

YN was quite literally everyone’s dream girl. Maybe that was the problem to Jungkook.

She was too good to everyone including himself and he hated. He knows she has a bad side but he never gets to see it so when he knows someone else gets to experience that mean side of her, he’s instantly jealous.

Who got his baby so pissed that she called you a dumb cunt? A fucking bitch? Who dares piss off his queen?

He will deal with them, with torture. Slow, painful, evil, demented, twisted death.

That was the other side of him he need to never be shown to his lover. It scared him that in any means possible she found out about his… hobby.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admires yn. How she can keep it together in every situation. Worships her to be exact.

“Stop calling be beautiful and get ready for work, handsome.” Yn responded while patting his back.

Right, work. Besides his hobby, he works at a flower shop while yn works at a cafe during the weekend. It’s enough to keep food on their table, to the rent, gas but also enough for simply living. Jungkook owns the flower shop so, he makes a whole lot of money.

There are so many things that yn doesn’t know about Jungkooks basically second life. How deadly it is.

jk: I miss you, baby~

I hate this fucking job

What are you doing?

Is bam stilling your attention from my text?

Babbbbbbbbyyyyy

yn

yn

yn

yn answer the phone

yn: sorry baby! I was feeding bam and fixing me something to eat!

I left my phone in the bathroom

yn: j, you just got to work babes 🤨, how do you miss me already?

You didn’t even clock in yet SILLY!

jk: I can’t miss you now?

Since when did you feel like that?

yn: Jeon I never once said you couldn’t, don’t say that.

jk: but you where implying that…

yn: Jeon Jungkook, clock in, put your phone down, see you when you get home 😕🩷

jk: smh, why that face? Why that reply?

He waited for a reply but he never received one, instead he heard someone clear his throat. He looked up and saw it was a woman probably in her 30s, staring at him like he was a snack.

“Hi! JK right? I came in here a few days ago looking for some flowers for my sisters birthday! I doubt you remember me but I want to come back to get some for myself!” The lady bit her lip and looked Jungkook up then down and Jungkook thought he could be sick.

He forced a half smile, “ Yeah yeah, I don’t remember you. You can get them for yourself, I don’t remember the flower you got last time.” He looked back down at the book he was original decorating with different flower pictures but got bored so he texted his lover.

“oh.. I was hoping you could pick them for me, fresh ones. I know you all do that-,” “ we do but not this early.” He interrupted still looking down, knowing he is hurting the poor woman’s feelings for not even recognizing her or remembering the flower or even falling for her shitty attempt to flirt.

“Okay, ah well I’ll go grab them and pay for them.” She said waiting for a respond or even a nod but she didn’t even get that. She walked over there and grabbed them then returning to the register. While she put her things on the counter, she saw a glimpse of Jungkooks Lock Screen which so happens to be a picture of yn and bam sleeping on the couch. “ Your sister?” She asked, hoping she was right. “ My wife actually and our son.” He scanned the flowers and roughly wrapped them. Roses, it’s be sad if he left a thorn on them. He turned around and slightly cut the stem but enough to keep the thorn nice and sharp.

Jungkook turned back around and handed them to her. As soon as the woman grabbed them she gasped, in pain he assumed. He pretended to be concerned but when he saw the palm of her hand leaking red liquid, he smiled on inside.

“ Oh! Im so sorry! I thought I got all the thorns, out…” he looked up at her then saying “ I guess one snuck away.” giving her the most creepiest blank face the woman has ever seen. She then realized he left the thorn on on purpose. He even sharpened it. “ I can fix that for you-,” “ No! I-It’s fine! Thank you so much! See you!” She some what screamed and hurried out the store frightened.

“ too bad..” Jungkook mumbled and chuckled continuing to put pictures in the decorating book.

“Bam! You just keep growing!” Yn said as she walked into the kitchen smiling while seeing him staring at the spare room. It’s Jungkooks office. “ What’s the matter? You know your dad doesn’t like you going in there.Not even me.” She stooped to his level and petted his back but only received a whimper in return.

Yn stared at the door. It’s taunting her with its unlocked door handle. She looked at the time, it was only 5 pm, Jungkook wouldn’t be home for a few more hours.

“ A peak wouldn’t hurt us right?” Looking at Bam and he barked as if he understood her.

Yn stood up and opened the door walking in. It was a nice little tidy office.

It would be comforting even if it wasn’t so cold. She has to remember to turn on the air for this room once exiting.

She turned around seeing if Bam followed her inside but he was at his bowl slurping up some water.

Looking at the closet door she opened it up and turned on the light. “since when did he make this a dark room?” The red light was a little hard to see in but her eyes soon adjusted quickly.

Spooky wasn’t the feeling that she was feeling but more so unsettled. Yn looked at the photos on the table and quite literally almost vomited.

“ what… what is that?” Stammering as her eyes scanned over the photos laid out on the table.

Pictures of people being hurt, harmed. There were far more worse ones that she doesn’t even want to even mention. Gazing up on the line looking at the ones drying where pictures of, her.

This wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t of her sleeping, in the shower, getting dressed, even at work.

“Did jungkook take these?… no way…”

Yn was flabbergasted,

Was her boyfriend of 5 years, a serial killer? A psychopath? A fucking weirdo? I mean she saw the signs but thought she was tripping.

Days where he would come home with blood and dirt on his hands and clothes. He would always say it was his and it came from the thorns he dealt with at work.

“yn! I’m home!” Jungkook shouted. As he walked in and smiled when he saw Bam sitting on the couch peacefully sleeping.

It’s where yn and bam usually cuddle so, where is she at?

“Did she leave you by yourself?” He asked Bam who was waking up from sleep. Walking towards the kitchen he saw dinner was made and a note on the fridge door.

“ Welcome home babes! Sorry I couldn’t be home to greet you, I went out to go get a few things but my sister called and said she wanted to have a little sibling time! Ha. Be back by 11 pm! Dinners fixed but do warm it up, then shower and get some sleep! See you later,

Love, Yn <3”

“Ah, I guess she did leave us by ourselves tonight Bam.” He chuckled and took off his jacket. He felt weird though.

Since when did her sister want to hang out so late? This is the first he ever heard of it. Pondering, he grabbed his phone and called yn’s sister.

“Hello? Jungkook?” She answered confused as ever at this late ass call. “Hey, sorry to call so late. is yn with you?” Jungkook asked but his full attention was on his office door.

“What? No she’s not. Why?” Without missing a beat Jungkook hung up the phone right after. He dialed yn’s number. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear her phone sitting right on the couch next to Bam. He watched it ring and sighed. Maybe she just went out and forgot it on accident, no need to panic.

For some reason in the back of his mind he felt as though she found out. She went into his forbidden office. Jungkook chuckled, “ she would never disobey me.” He warmed his food up then sat at the table but he couldn’t eat.

Nor could the feeling of her going in his office go away. He stood up and walked to the door and opened it.

At first he didn’t notice anything out of place until he realized it was warm in the room. He never turns the air on in this room. Jungkook looked around about to leave until something so obvious caught his eyes.

The red light illuminating on the other side of the closet door. With quick steps, he opened the door well threw it open. Nothing was touched but the light alone was a clear sign that someone was in there.

He mentally and physically cursed himself.

“ She knows, she fucking knows.” He calmly stated but boy was he heated.

“ I need to fucking find her…now.”

To be continued…