#not exactly sure what I don’t understand about painting leaves

[venuslore]

𖥔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; you make coriolanus feel like he's losing control.

pairing ; peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!reader

notes ; nothing just a whole bunch of fluff honestly. and i'm not even going to lie... i loved writing this one. i don't think i've written anything as fast as i wrote this bc it truly just flew out of me. this man really has me acting up and i am so here for it.

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

coriolanus snow was never one to let himself be vulnerable in the eyes of another, and for as long as you had known him there was one thing you were always certain of, he had to be in control. he depended on it. craved it. the thought alone, of everything slipping from his grasp and not going to plan, made his head swirl and his skin crawl. 

so when he met you, he began to question himself. question everything he had been working for, everything he had been fighting for, as you slowly wiggled your way into his heart. he was taken by you, and that scared him. 

you were a breath of fresh air in his carefully curated world, a burst of colour amidst the struggles of his life. your spontaneity and liveliness enchanted him, capturing his attention and leaving him craving more. he had never felt this way about anything before. 

as you sat there in the beauty of the meadow, a gentle breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of the wildflowers. the sunlight streamed through the canopy of leaves above, painting a warm hue across everything it touched. the tranquillity of it all enveloped you, filling your heart with a sense of contentment.

you and coriolanus were close together on an old picnic blanket you had found, not needing any words to communicate as you took in the peacefulness. his presence alone was enough to make you feel safe and at ease.

you watch on as his fingers trail through the grass, stopping when he comes across a dandelion, and plucks it from its root, “it certainly doesn’t compare to the roses grandma’am grows.”

“some people think of them as weeds, but not me. i think they’re beautiful all the same,” you add, bringing a smile to each of your faces, and take the flower from his hands. “in some ways, i feel just like them; a weed in a world where i should be seen as more.”

coriolanus observes you as you take a closer look at the small flower, appreciating its simple beauty. the yellow, though not as vibrant as a rose, held its own charm. you don’t hold it for long before he takes it back, twirling it with his thumb and forefinger. 

he stares at the flower for a moment before reaching to brush the stem behind your ear, his fingers then lingering as he trails them along the line of your jaw, sending a surge of emotions down your spine. you smile at him, it’s all you could do. if you spoke you weren’t sure what jumbled mess was sure to spew out. 

you bring your hand up to meet his, intertwining your fingers as you lean into his touch. his eyes bore into you, taking you in, appreciating your features under the sunlight. 

“look what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, as if it were some unspoken secret. which, in your case, it was. 

intrigued by his statement, you perk up, “and what exactly is it that i’ve done to you, coriolanus snow?” 

you watch him intently as he opens his mouth to speak, a thought lingering in his mind before he stops and lets his head fall between his shoulders instead. his silence is heavy, lingering in the air between you. you can almost feel the weight of the unspoken words pressing against your skin. 

you reach out tentatively, your hand hovering just inches from his, wanting desperately to bridge the distance but afraid of intruding. the two of you have always shared a deep connection, but something feels different today. something is weighing him down, and you yearn to understand. 

as he continues to fiddle absentmindedly with a blade of grass, you can see that his mind is working overtime. thoughts and feelings swirl like a whirlwind, causing his brow to furrow and his grip on the grass to tighten. 

eventually, he looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty. two things coriolanus liked to keep to himself. 

it’s then that you decide to break the silence. “what’s wrong, my love?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone, you know.”

he looks at you, gratitude mingling with a wisp of fear in his eyes. whatever it was bothering him, you could see that it was taking its toll, and you simply wanted to take him in your arms and kiss it all away, but you knew that that wouldn’t help. 

“i don’t know what i’m doing anymore,” he finally answers. “i feel like i’m losing track of who i am and what i want, what i’ve always wanted, the longer i’m out here.”

“things can change, coriolanus, and you don’t always have to live up to others' expectations of you. especially, your own. so long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” his gaze falls from yours once again, but you refuse to let him suffer in silence anymore. so you reach for him, gathering his face between your fingers and pull him back towards you. “is it really such a bad thing? you get to be here with me.”

“that’s exactly the problem,” he admits, and your breath hitches momentarily as you wait for him to elaborate. “you make me feel like i’m losing control.”

for so long coriolanus had been bound by societal expectations and concerned with maintaining a pristine reputation. he had become so accustomed to a life ruled by rigid schedules and strict rules, never allowing himself to deviate from the norm. 

but with you, everything changed. 

you were afraid to ask, but you knew you had to, for your own piece of mind. “is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

he reaches to touch your face this time, your hands falling from his, and he pulls you closer towards him until your faces were merely a couple inches apart. “i have never felt so free, and yet, so scared in my life.”

“is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you ask the question a second time, this time with more hesitancy as your voice shakes slightly. 

“it’s the best thing.” tears well up in your eyes as his words sink in. you never imagined that you could have such a profound impact on someone’s life, let alone someone as lost and conflicted as he was. “you’re my wildflower, and while i might not have been looking for you, i certainly found you where i least expected it.”

he smiles, his hands caressing your cheeks, as your heart thrums loudly in your chest, overjoyed and so full of love. leaning forward, you close the space between you, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, so full of passion that it almost envelopes you completely. 

you had brought coriolanus a sense of newfound freedom, showing him the beauty of embracing life’s uncertainties and every unpredictable moment. your spirit was infectious, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to your untamed soul. 

as he fell deeper in love with you, he realised that his heart yearned for the wildness and unpredictability you offered. he saw the vibrant world through your eyes, letting go of his inhibitions and stepping out of his comfort zone. 

you became his wildflower, a symbol of untamed beauty and unapologetic love. 

as you hold each other close, only pulling away to catch your breath, but not daring to pull away too far, coriolanus runs his thumb across your bottom lip. then, with his voice filled with tenderness and newfound appreciation, he whispers, “my wildflower.”

#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱ #coriolanus snow ᰔ #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow one shot #coriolanus snow oneshot #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas

[plleeeepppyyyy]

Hi hi hi!!! If you're still doing requests, could you perhaps do Wally Darling and a reader that's always sleepy?

ofc ofc!!! very cute request! (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

(also mind u,, this was not the first request i gotten,, i jus got this one finished quicker (ﾒ﹏ﾒ) )

wally + sleepy reader!!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

•every time wally walks around you or sees you, he always sees you sleeping or on the verge of passing out. he finds it pretty amusing, don’t get him wrong he’s pretty worried about you sleeping almost every day. he’s definitely curious.

•he asks some of his friends first if they know why exactly it is why you do this, but they just assure him, “oh y/n is always sleepy!” that answer wasn’t good enough for him tho,,

•he finds you in the weirdest spots sleeping too, like this one time where you were just,,, laying on the ground while holding a plant. he watched you for a bit and just shook you up, he def walked you home as you were back on the verge of sleep.

•another time, you were gone for the WHOLE day, everyone was looking for you, poor julie was sobbing as if she lost her kid just already putting up posters of you,, but nope, howdy found you sleeping in one of the cabinets in his shop. how did you even get there?? you got a scolding for sure, how was that even comfy?

•wally took the opportunity to ask you a question, you were just laying your head on a table, again (for what seemed to be the millionth time) on the verge of hitting the hay. he asked you why exactly were you tired 24/7? he didn’t understand! it was just a silly concept to him, sleeping all of the time. even if he tried, he could never sleep with the house on his mind.

•you just simply replied, “why not?” wally hummed in fascination and watched you for the rest of the time you were about to sleep. but you were a bit talkative that day, so whatever came on your mind you talked about it to wally.

•after that wally admired how much you just didn’t care for much, you were just in your own little world.

•he DEFINITELY wanted to paint you too, you had no problem letting him. he just told you to sleep, definitely wasn’t an issue for you.

•he woke you up for,, maybe about a hour or two? and showed you an absolute masterpiece, you just sleeping. you loved it, and put it up on your wall. he still kept sketching and drawing you from time to time, i mean you were just still, a simple person to draw for sure!

•he also makes sure you don’t end up anywhere to crazy to sleep, its like he keeps tabs on you. its like if you were just walking somewhere, he just tugs on your hand and is like, “no, this way, silly!” he’s like a guide, making sure you don’t end up back into the river situation,,

•he totally wouldn’t mind if you laid your head on his shoulder; or anywhere on him honestly. he wouldn’t bat an eye if you leaned on him and just hit snooze. wally will continue talking to whoever, still making sure you’re fine. he’d rather have this than you accidentally sleeping on the roof or somewhere dangerous.

•wally finds himself giggling at the silliest things you do or say. like; why are you talking about hippos all of sudden? weren’t you just asleep?

•if he wants some quiet time to himself but not be completely alone. he def goes to you, maybe it’s because you’re sleepy but you’re just calm half of the time too. he also likes to ask you for suggestions on what to paint or draw next, you just mumble out the most random of things. you’re like a spinning wheel! to him at least,,

•you for sure were an interesting character in his book, so goofy. a good friend to despite you sleeping daily.

☁︎︎☁︎︎

romantic ver, ( ˘ ³˘)

•wally just adores you,, like why you so sleepy?? he finds it cute, you’re like a sleepy kitten 24/7. for some reason it makes him giggle to himself.

•definitely watches you 24/7, he doesn’t wanna let you go or leave you be. like before, he’s your guide to not falling in a brook. hell, he’ll even carry you around if you’re that tired. the neighbors look at you both and go, “oh look there goes wally and y/n!” as he just carries you around. :]

•theres always quiet moments between you two, you’re probably just snoring on his bed as he sketches,, well probably you. he always has some sort of art for you, pottery, paintings, whatever he can do, he did it for you.

•he’s also noticed how despite you being sleepy, you always try to make sure you talk to him. you’re just on the verge of sleeping yet again as you talk to him about this type of frog you saw early ago. wally really notices the little things. <3

•he gets all gushy and happy whenever you lean on him as a pillow or something. literally he just wants to grab you and just run away. but he keeps it in as he wraps his arm around you. even so, you can still notice the adoration in his eyes. a whole ass gentleman too, he WILL never move when ur sleeping on him. he shushes some people to, likee shhhh my boo is sleeping.

•to be honest, wally sleeps not so often, he definitely does more now that you help him. but whenever he just can’t close his eyes or anything, he watches you. and how peaceful you are, and he gets confused. how can you sleep so much? waking up to wally staring at you with those big old eyes is both scary yet endearing. you ask him what’s going on with him and hes just like, “you’re so peaceful, can’t help but keep this sight of you all to myself.” wit those big eyes,,

(≧◡≦) ♡

•ack,, okay so he for sure def whispers to you or something whenever you’re tired. he just perks his head to you and just whispers ever so softly, as if you’re already sleeping. even when you’re dead asleep he’ll whisper some stuff. if you’re lucky enough, you’ll probably hear him.

•SPEAKING of whispering and such, he def sings you asleep. as if it was hard enough for you to do so,, but still, legit you LOVE it when he sings to you. his voice is soo soft and listening to it is just, hhhhh, makes you malfunction at times.

•he still finds you at random places too, he quickly picks you up and just wakes you up. he’s all like, “oh, what are you doin here :)?” while ur kinda like ,, “hh”

•to him, you’re just admirable. even if ur sleeping in a not so fancy fashion, he admires how you sleep, even if you wake up all jus cruddy, he’s still looking at you with his big lovey dovey eyes.

•if you have any trouble trying to stay awake he helps you def, tries to at least. if you drink caffeine to help you out with it, he’s all for it. but makes sure you don’t over step it, can’t have his lover too hyper! he also tries to have you have a normal sleep schedule (if you want ofc) but if it doesn’t work than it’s perfectly fine,, you guys will find smth to help you out. ♡︎

•calls you snooze bug, literally he’s so corny at times but its cute . <3

•it’s just when it comes to you he’s so gentle wit you,, its very endearing to watch between you both.

•overall he loves you sm,, his sleepy little person. he’s patient with you all of the time, your sleepiness is part of the charm for him. wally wanted an excuse to carry you around anyway. ❤︎︎

____

okay this was rlly fun to do!! im prolly gonna do all of ur guys’ requests based on finishing it earlier than others if thats fine,, (٥⁀▽⁀ )

i also wanna thank all of you guys for giving me a LOTTA notes and positive feedback!! im glad ur all enjoying reading these as much i love making these,, 🫶

literally all of ur guys’ requests are so damn cute , can’t wait to have em all finished and have you guys read them!! (eventually)

ミ★

#wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home arg #head canons

[seancekitsch]

Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

[amiableness]

Wishful Thinking

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj gets tipsy and rambles about his feelings for y/n, leading their friends to decide to play matchmakers.

wc: 6.0k

warnings: pet names (baby), mild language, and allusions to smut at the end

a/n 💌: hi! i have posted wishful thinking before but i decided just to combine it all into one fic and finish it. this is my experiment to see if i wanna come back to writing or not!

“Y’wanna know something?” JJ Maybank’s voice was giggly as he leaned in to whisper to his best friend next to him. It was quiet between the group of friends besides the crackling of the fire in the center of the group and John B’s speaker playing music in the background. Pope raised his eyebrows as he eyed JJ, who had been attempting to whisper, but instead caught the attention of all his friends.

“What?” He asked finishing off the rest of his drink and glancing over at John B who was chuckling at how out of it JJ was.

“Really miss her, man. Miss her pretty laugh.” Pope’s surprised gaze shot back over to JJ. He wasn’t seeing anyone, so he wasn’t sure exactly who he could be talking about. But when he watched as JJ’s glaze slide over to where Y/n usually sat, he understood.

“She’s only been gone an hour, JJ.” Kiera cut in, understanding right away who the blonde had been talking about. Kiera had always known about JJ’s feelings for her, even if he had refused to admit them until now. For years, JJ had been pining over Y/n. She wasn’t sure how the others had’t picked up on it. From the countless times that JJ had tied up her hair while she covered her shoulders with sunscreen, made sure she always her favorite mango soda stocked in the fridge, and cleaned up her cuts and scrapes as he taught her how to skateboard. It was pretty obvious that JJ was head over heels for Y/n.

“Feels like torture, Kie. Getting to see her everyday and not being able to kiss her.” Sarah’s mouth dropped open in surprise as she whipped her head around to make she everyone had just heard what she did. JJ talking about his feelings was rare, so hearing him clue in the other’s to his feelings about her was surprising.

“Oh shit, he’s so out of it.” John B barked out a laughed while leaning forward, hoping to catch more of JJ’s words.

“JB, you get it man! Loving her s’much that your heart just hurts without her.” John B had an amused expression painted on his face as he glanced at his friends.

“Does Y/n know your heart hurts without her?” Sarah slapped John B’s shoulder because she knew he was teasing with his choice of words, even if JJ wasn’t in the state to pick up on it.

“Y’fucking kiddin’? She doesn’t deserve that.”

“JJ, don’t say that.” Kiera scolded as she watched her best friend helplessly shrug back at her. The tipsy giggles had been replaced by a serious look on his face as he stared into the fire. Y/n had been on his mind constantly. Ever since he had met her really, but now more than ever. Before he had thought it was just a hopeless crush, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“She deserves flowers, those lilies she always points out when we walk by the market on 7th. Someone to walk her back from the Club because you just know those rich old fucks are gonna try and flirt with her every chance they get. Someone who tells her that she’s the prettiest girl they have ever seen in their life, because it’s fucking true. Someone who can make her the happiest girl in the word, because she deserves that. Y’know?”

His words shocked his friends into silence, all wearing looks of surprise. To some degree, they all knew that JJ had some type of feelings for their other best friend. Just none of them had realized just how deep his feelings ran. No one had said anything, so JJ shrugged and tossed his beer back before heading inside. Leaving his friends to process what he had just said.

“We need to help JJ get the girl.” John B spoke up, getting a chorus of agreement back.

The door flung open, startling her friends as Y/n cheerfully let herself into the Chateau. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen talking amongst themselves. The boys were in charge of cooking the burgers, while Sarah and Kiera stood next to each other chopping veggies and fruits.

It was Sunday, meaning all six of them got together for lunch. It had become a tradition over the years for them to meet every Sunday and spend time together.  Y/n was in her favorite jeans shorts and the navy blue sweatshirt she had stolen from JJ months ago. He never complained. Her hair was tied up by a claw clip, and JJ swore that he swooned every time she wore it like that.

“Who owes me an explanation?” While her question sounded accusatory, she was bouncing on the heels on feet trying to hold back her grin.

“An explanation for what?” Pope questioned, glancing over his shoulder at a giggly Y/n.

“These.” She reached into her book bag to pull out a bouquet of lilies. Her eyes swept expectantly over all her friends, waiting for one of them to claim the flowers as their gift.

“Sorry sweetheart! None of us brought you flowers.” John B called out, glancing at everyone as there was a hum of agreement. The only one who didn’t say anything but JJ, who was simply staring at the bouquet in Y/n’s hands He felt sick starting at the flowers. Not just any flowers, but lilies. The same flowers he’s been trying to work up the courage to buy her for weeks. Ever since he watched her stare longingly at them in the market, he knew he wanted to get them for her. Who the hell got them for her?

“It could be a secret admirer!” Sarah called excitedly, dropping her knife and heading over to see the flowers in Y/n’s hands.

“A secret admirer? I highly doubt that.” Y/n hummed while staring down at the flowers. If it wasn’t her friends, who got them for her?

“Oh please, you’re hot and a total catch. I bet it’s a secret admirer.” Kiera called, nearly running into her best friend as they hugged each other in greeting. The girls erupted into giggles when Kiera nearly knocked her over, but Y/n managed to steady them. Y/n and Kiera had been friends well before they had met any of the others. Having met in kindergarten, they truly had never left each others’ sides.

“You think?” She asked, a hopeful smile brightening up her face. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of excitement in her chest at the idea of having a secret admirer. It was flattering, and Y/n had always been a hopeless romantic.

“Sounds like someone’s got a crush on our Y/n.” John B called out while pointing the spatula in her direction. Pope let out a huff and grabbed the spatula from John B who was too distracted by talking to remember the flip the burger patties.

“Maybe it’s not a secret admirer, maybe someone just gave them to you to be nice.” JJ shrugged, trying to fight the ever growing jealously in his chest as he watched her blush over the flowers.

“Yea, and what are the chances someone picked her favorite flowers?” Kiera questioned glancing over at JJ who sent her an irritated look

“It was just a thought.” He grumbled, sending one last glare at the bouquet gripped in Y/n’s hands as she carefully filled a vase for them oblivious to his stare.

Kiera and Pope sent each other small grins excited that their plan was being set into place.

It had been one whole week. One whole week of Y/n receiving a bouquet of flowers from the market everyday. While Y/n was practically glowing from excitement, JJ had never been in a mood this bad.

“What flower do we think it is today?” JJ grumbled kicking at the dirt in front of him. With his eyes glued to the ground, he missed the looks his friends exchanged. Just the night before, the four of them had been wondering if it was time to fess up. But John B had insisted they kept going.

“We know how much he loves her, we can’t say anything!” John B protested, leaning against the couch as he adamantly tried to convince his friends to keep their little secret to themselves.

“What does that have to do with anything? JJ has watched Y/n get flowers all week and said nothing to her. The goal was to get him to confess his feelings, and it isn’t working.” Kiera sighed while glancing over at the freshly bought flowers sitting on the table, waiting to be delivered to Y/n. She felt guilt swirl in her stomach, this was her best friend she way lying to, even if the end goal was for her to be happy. The past week Y/n had been gushing to her about who the mystery guy could be, and when she asked her opinion on the matter, Kiera nearly pulled out the receipts and showed Y/n just who her admirer was.

“He just needs a little bit more convincing,” John B shot back running a palm down his face.“Come on, Kie.”

“Are we even sure that Y/n feels the same way about him?” Pope spoke up, breaking the stare off between John B and Kiera. All eyes turned to Kiera, who knew all of Y/n’s secrets.

“No, I’m not spilling her secrets.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fingers tightening around the friendship bracelets they both wore.

“Don’t spill her secrets then. It’s simple, does JJ have any sort of shot with Y/n?” Pope questioned, glancing over at Kiera who was nibbling at her lip.

“Yes.” She admitted, prompting John B to high five Sarah.

“So we keep playing the secret admirer? Amp it up a little until JJ acts on his feelings?” Sarah asked, sending a hopeful smile over to Kiera.

“Fine, but as soon as JJ breaks it off were admitting to what we did.” She huffed while the rest cheered.

“Who knows, she’s gotten every flower imaginable at this point.” John B shrugged, knowing that Sarah and Kiera had been the ones who insisted on getting the prettiest bouquets every time they went. JJ’s frown deepened at John B’s response.

“It’s just stupid, y’know? If this guy likes her so much why doesn’t he just say something?”

“Great point, now take your own advice.” Sarah called out making JJ falter. The tips of his ears turned red and he let out a scoff. 

“That’s different.” JJ shook his head.

“Please, enlighten us.” Pope snorted while grabbing another drink. It was around noon and they were waiting for Y/n to show up after her shift so they could all go swimming. Lately she had been spending most of her time at work, but it seemed to work out for the pogues, since they were able to deliver the flowers to her house secretly this way.

“You already know-”

“Hi! I’m sorry I’m so late!” JJ spun around in his chair to see his favorite girl walking towards them with her bikini already on and her favorite bag slung over her shoulder like always. He could see the new bouquet of flowers peeking out of her bag, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes at them.

Instead of showing off the flowers like she usually had, Y/n tossed her bag onto the cooler besides her without a comment about them. Her friends shared a surprised look, expecting her to show them off and fawn over them.

“Scoot over.” She called to JJ as she climbed up into the hammock with him, easily slotting herself into his side. JJ felt himself relax at the feeling of her pressed against him, and he tossed his arm over her shoulder.

“Anyone ready to swim? I need a break.” Y/n smiled halfheartedly, puzzling her friends at her sudden change in mood.

Y/n was frustrated. A whole week of flowers and no one had fessed up to who was delivering her the beautiful arrangements everyday. As each passing day went by, she found herself becoming slightly bugged by the flowers. Not by the sweet gesture, but by the mystery of them. Why was there no cards left? Or any hints at who her admirer could be?

Each morning before work the flowers could be found tucked against the doorframe, waiting for Y/n to find them. Today marked exactly one week that the flowers had started being delivered, and unlike every other time, Y/n didn’t check for a card. In fact, she had left the flowers on the porch until she came home from work. On her way out she simply picked up the bouquet and put it in her bag, knowing she was already late to meeting her friends.

“Any ideas on who your secret admirer is?” Sarah teased while bumping her left shoulder against Y/n’s. The three girls were sat on the boat next to each other with Sarah in the middle. The boys had been in the water for the past twenty minutes, currently seeing who could hold their breath the longest. Pope had won the last two rounds and JJ was pissed, determined to beat him.

“No, and I’ve gone over my name list about twenty times. It’s starting to drive me crazy.” Y/n sighed while sipping at her pink straw that poked out of her mango soda that JJ had brought her. She missed the look shared between her two best friends, too busy gazing out at the water.

“List your ideas.” Kiera called out as she stood up to grab the cans the boys had left behind and toss them into a bag she brought with her for this very reason. She flopped down on the seat across from her two friends once she was done, eyeing Y/n somber expression.

“Well, Malakai Cost could be an option. Remember him? We ‘dated’ in freshman year.” She used her fingers to air quote as she said the word dated with a slight laugh.

“I hardly call that dating, babe.” Kiera laughed remembering the memory of the curly haired boy who Y/n lost her virginity to. He was sweet, but Kiera could tell that her best friend didn’t have that strong of feelings for him. That was obvious by the way ‘the relationship’ was cut short when the pair had realized they would rather have sex with other people.

“Okay, uh, option two is Porter from work. Option three is -”

“Pervy Porter? God, I hope not.” Sarah cries out, cringing at the thought of the 26 year old who worked at the club and was consistently hitting on high school aged girls.

“Option three: Cal. He’s been flirting with me the past couple weeks, and it’s an option I don’t honestly hate.” Y/n explained, while holding up her three fingers still as she mulled over her list.

“Cal from English? He’s cute.” Sarah agreed, nodding along. Although she did not like the idea nearly as much as Y/n and JJ being together.

“And option four.” Y/n let out a soft sigh and leaned back on her hands.

“Who is option four?” Kiera asked, leaning forward towards her best friend when she noticed she wasn’t openly supplying information.

“I don’t really think this is an option, but more like a hope.” Y/n said, bitting at her lower lip as she glanced over at the boys to make sure they were still busy.

“Well who is it?” Sarah asked, scooting closer to Y/n as she three friends then made a little circle on the floor of the boat.

“JJ.” Y/n shyly whispered with her eyes downcast as she twirled her straw in her soda. Kiera and Sarah sent each other wide eyed looking, trying to contain their excitement.

“You want it to be JJ?” Sarah asked, using both hands to cover her mouth as she practically bounced on her butt.

“I mean, I’ve always had a thing for JJ. How could I not? Plus, he’s the only one who knows how bad I had wanted lilies from the market and those are what I got! But, fuck, when I saw the look on his face when I brought them over, I knew it wasn’t him.”

“He was probably just mad somebody did it before he could.” Sarah supplied, as Y/n looked up at her blonde friend with a hopeful look in her eye.

“I mean maybe, but realistically JJ has shown no interest in me. So why would it be him?” Y/n shrugged trying to keep her hopes from soaring.

“Are you serious?” Kiera nearly shrieked. She glanced over her shoulder at the splashing boys before turning back to her best friend.

“Y/n, look at your drink. You have a mango soda that was chilled, unlike the rest of our drinks, and your favorite pink straw. And who made up your drink for you?” Y/n glanced down at her drink, her heart swelling at the simple things JJ constantly did for her the left her feeling warm and special.

JJ had always been the person who made her feel safe. Kiera would forever be her best friend, but if Y/n ever needed saving JJ was the person that she instantly went to. She couldn’t help it, there was something about him that made her feel cared for, and she loved that feeling more than anything.

“He insisted you stayed at the Chateau until you got over your cold, remember? You two literally slept in his bed together while he took care of you. None of us went near you except for him.” Sarah explained, sipping at her drink.

“But it’s JJ, he doesn’t care about germs.”

“Really? Because when I had strep throat he told me if I got near him he would beat my ass.” Kiera deadpanned making her two friends laugh at the memory.

“All I’m getting from this is that he’s a sweet friend. There’s no way it could be him delivering the flowers.” Y/n shook her head, getting nervous that her hopes about JJ being her secret admirer were rising again.

“Okay, just forget the flowers. What if JJ told you that he had feelings for you? What would you do?” Kiera asked hoping to get a read on her friends feelings.

“Also, how the hell did we not know you were into JJ?” Sarah added on, to which Kiera raised her drink at, making Y/n blush.

“It’s always been at the back of my mind, and then I realized I keep hoping it’s him that is behind it. And about the feelings thing? If he likes me back I would hope that he does something about it, and soon.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Our Y/n’s got the hot’s for someone?” John B cried out, scaring the three girls.

“God, John B! We’re talking about Y/n’s man, you guys can’t just listen in like that.” Kiera whipped around, bending over the edge of the boat to wack him on the head. She glanced at JJ who was behind John B, but his face was blank.

“Y/n’s man, huh?” He tried to tease, but Kiera could see that he could hardly keep the smile on his face.

“I don’t have a man.” Y/n laughed, redness sweeping onto her cheeks. She hid behind her drink, embarrassed that the boys overheard their conversation. She was just hoping that JJ didn’t realize that they were talking about him.

“Her secret admirer. She’s waiting for him to make an actual move.” Y/n shot a warning look at Sarah who had elaborated for the boys.

“So you know who he is?” JJ asked, swimming closer to the boat as Y/n leaned over the edge to look down at him. They were so close together that JJ could feel the ends of her hair brushing against his face as he looked up at her.

“No, but I have my hopes.” Y/n shrugged her left shoulder, nervously bitting at her lip. Could it be JJ? Did he get that she was telling him to make his move?

His eyes dropped to her lips and he immediately felt the urge to reach up and bring her mouth to his, but he couldn’t. So instead he took one last look at the rosy lips he always fantasized about before glancing back up at her. They were both carefully studying each other.

“Any you wanna share with the class?” Pope teased, bringing JJ and Y/n out of their little moment. Y/n glanced away from JJ to look at Pope who was swimming behind him.

“No.” Y/n blushed. “I’m sure we’ll all find out soon enough anyways.”

“I think it’s Cal from English.” Y/n rushed out as she nearly tossed herself on the couch next to her two best friends. She knew she had limited time before the boys came into the Chateau and would be able to hear their gossip.

“Seriously?” Sarah questioned, tossing aside her phone to be able to put her full attention on Y/n. She glanced over at Kiara who had furrowed eyebrows and looked unsure.

“Why do you think it’s Cal?” She asked uncertainty, feeling the guilt well up in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had kept a secret from Y/n. The two of them told each other everything, and it was killing her to lie to her face and pretend she had no clue who the flowers were coming from. How was she supposed to tell her that it was them this whole time? Would she understand them trying to get her and JJ together? Or would she understandably be upset?

“He remembered that my favorite flowers are lilies, and they were my first flowers I got.”

“You told Cal your favorite flowers?” Kiara asked a little concerned. She didn’t want Y/n thinking that someone else besides JJ could have been doing this for you. She didn’t think Cal from English would have memorized your favorite flowers just like JJ had.

“I guess, we chat a lot in AP English. Mrs. Donovan lets us have time to write for ten minutes at the end of class and we pass notes instead.”

“That’s cute.” Sarah smiled softly, but she wasn’t totally sure what else to say. “Do you think it’s Cal then? For sure?”

“I don’t really know, but I might find out tonight.” Y/n supplied while heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of mango soda. She smiled softly when she realized her stash had been restocked from the last time she had grabbed one.

“Why tonight?” Sarah asked shifting on the couch to watch her best friend curiously. Y/n took a long sip before sending them a nervous smile, like she was scared of what they were going to say.

“I agreed to go out with him.” There was brief pause of silence between the three best friends.

“Wait. But..I thought you wanted it to be JJ?” Kiara asked, lowering her voice as she heard the voices of the boys outside doing God knows what.

“I mean I do. I really fucking do. But it doesn’t seem like it’s him and I can’t sit around and wait for him forever. Besides, if Cal is the one leaving these flowers for me I wanna give him a chance. It could lead into something really nice y’know.” She shrugged simply.

Kiara stayed quiet, trying to piece together a plan to swing this in JJ’s favor. Cal was not actually supposed to be an option in this. The goal was to get JJ and Y/n together.

“So you’re not waiting for JJ anymore?” Sarah questioned. Y/n opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out.

“Honestly, I would wait for JJ forever if I could. But I know that won’t get me anywhere. I’m attracted to Cal and I think it could be something, so I’m gonna give it a chance.”

“Y/n, I-” Kiara was cut off by boys heading up to the door, she could hear them before she could see them.

“I’m gonna head out, I just wanted to let you guys know that I think I might be solving this mystery.” Y/n grabbed her bag and blew a kiss towards before heading towards the door. Right as she opened the door the boys came tumbling through. Y/n shouted out her goodbyes before heading out the door.

“Where is she going? Thought we were all gonna hangout here?” John B questioned confused, looking after Y/n’s retreating figure.

“She’s got a date.” Kiara mumbled, still wracking her brain to try and come up with an idea to fix this. John B mumbled a quiet ‘oh shit’ before looking towards JJ who looked dejected.

“Looks like she got what she wanted. She found the guy who has been giving her flowers.” JJ mumbled before heading to the fridge to grab a beer. There wasn’t much else he wanted to do right now besides drink or smoke.

“JJ, man. I’m sorry.” Pope let out, heading into the kitchen. The Pogues all watched quietly, as JJ rested his elbows on the counter and then dropped his head into his hands. He threaded his fingers between the strands before pulling on his slightly out of frustration. Why hadn’t he just told her how he felt? Would it have made a difference?

“It’s alright, not your fault, bro.” JJ mumbled and Pope nearly flinched. This was his fault, it was all of their faults. They shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. 

Pope was so focused on his guilt he hadn’t notice Kiara walk up and place something in front of JJ.

“Why the fuck are you giving me recipts? I don’t owe you for anything.” JJ grumbled, not in the mood for Kiara to bug him about paying her back for healthy food he didn’t even want in the first place.

“JJ, read them.” He glanced up to find Kiara nervously chewing on her bottom lip while the rest of their friends stood next to him. He let out a sigh before picking out a thick bundle of the slips of paper.

“You went to the market on 7th. Nice?”

“JJ, read what she fucking bought.” John B huffed getting fed up with his best friend. JJ’s eyebrows scrunched together as he read the receipt. He then began to shuffle through all of them before standing up fully and looking at Kiara.

“What the fuck? Have you been buying her flowers?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes, but JJ listen. We were hoping that it would push you to tell her how you feel and-“ JJ cut Kiara off by pointing at all of them.

“All of you were in on this shit?”

“We were trying to help.” Kiara rushed out, hoping to make amends but from the look on JJ’s face she knew that would not be happening soon.

“What? You thought I couldn’t do it myself?”

“Honestly JJ, no.” John B interrupted. “You two would be perfect together and you’re refusing to do anything about it!”

“That’s the fucking point! She’s way too good for me! She’s gonna go to college and do something with her life and I’ll be stuck here. What the fuck am I supposed to offer her? A life with a guy who is gonna go nowhere in life?”

“JJ-“ Pope tried to cut in but JJ shook his head before pointing at him.

“Honestly, I thought you would’ve had my back on this. You get how I feel.” Pope dropped his gaze, thinking about all the times he had vented about his feelings about Kiara to him.

“JJ, she’s on a date with a guy who she thinks is leaving her the flowers.” Sarah spoke up while JJ downed the rest of his beer.

“And? You guys found her a date, be proud of yourselves.”

“That wasn’t the point! The point was for you to take her on a date!” Sarah shot back, getting frustrated with him.

“That would only work if she felt the same.” JJ snapped back and John B rolled her eyes at his snippy attitude. He couldn’t stand when JJ got something stuck in his head and refused to listen to anyone else.

“Good fucking thing she does then.” Sarah snapped back and JJ froze. His eyes flickered to Kiara, the one person he really trusted to confirm your feelings right now. She gave a small nod.

“She’s liked you for years, J.” Kiara supplied.

“What?” He sounded breathless and Sarah felt a silver of hope run through her. They were getting him to listen now.

When she heard the knock at the door she took a deep breath before swinging open the door. There stood Cal, holding a bouquet of white lilies and sending her the sweetest smile. Cal gave her a soft greeting before handing over the stunning flowers.

“Hey. These are so sweet, you really didn’t have to get me more flowers.” She smiled softly before bringing the flowers up to her nose and breathing in the scent.

“Oh uh, I’ve only gotten you these flowers?” Cal had the most confused look on his face as he watched Y/n hold the flowers to her chest. Y/n faltered when she realized what she had slipped out. Her plan was to bring it up in later conversation, ask Cal if it was him instead of outright implying that it was him.”

“Oh. You haven’t been leaving me bouquets of flowers?” She bit her lip and glanced over at the other lilies sitting in the vase by the door. She felt her stomach sink as she realized she still didn’t know who was doing this for her.

“No? Did you want me to? Is this your way of asking me to bring you more flowers?” Her eyes darted back to Cal and she felt guilty for bringing her secret admirer up. That probably was not a line she should have opened up with on a first date.

“No! I just, I’ve been getting flowers everyday left on my porch for the last two weeks or so and I have no idea who it is.”

“That’s fucking expensive.” Cal let out a soft laugh, trying to break up some of the disappointment on Y/n’s face. “Listen, it seems like you’re not totally into this date so maybe it’s better if I just go.” Cal jabbed his thumb behind him pointing at his truck. He was starting to feel a little awkward about going on a date with a girl who had someone so clearly pining over her, he didn’t want to get in the middle of anything.

“No! Listen, I really have no idea who has been leaving these flowers. I’ve had my hopes and suspicions but-“

“Was I one of them? One of people you were hoping for?” Cal asked taking a step closer to her.

“You were.” Y/n confirmed looking up at him. She hadn’t realized how blue his eyes were and she couldn’t help but compare him to another boy with blue eyes she knew.

“And what about JJ Maybank?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Y/n asked completely thrown off by his question. Cal ran his hand through his hair and sent her a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just had to ask. I’ve always thought he had a thing for you, which was what prevented me from asking you out in the first place.”

“He doesn’t, there’s no way. I-“

“Y/n!” Cal and Y/n turned to see JJ standing at the edge of driveway. His chest was heaving and she realized that he had ran here. Her breath hitched when she took in his red cut-off t-shirt and blonde locks that were tamed by his backwords hat. She felt her heart squeeze when she realized he was holding orange lilies. Not just her favorite flower, but her favorite color.

“Y/n, baby. I need to talk to you.”

“Seems like he does after all. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” Cal squeezed her arm and gave her a sweet smile before heading towards his car. She heard him greet JJ and watched in disbelief as he headed out.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n finally asked as JJ walked up to her.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“You said that. It couldn’t after waited until after my date?”

“To be fair, you don’t have a date anymore.”

“JJ.” Y/n sighed before sending him a deadpan look. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“It’s not Cal bringing you glowers.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“He told me.”

“Well. It wasn’t me either.” Y/n felt her heart sink and she looked away from JJ to prevent him from seeing the disappointed look that crossed her face. She was too late. He saw it.

“Where are you going with this?”

“Can we talk about this inside?” Y/n turned around to open the door and let JJ inside. No one was home, her mom was working a late shift at the hospital and her older sister was staying the night with her boyfriend.

JJ followed behind her as she lead him up to her room, taking the time to appreciate her dress. His mood soured when he remembered she had worn this for another guy. When they reached her room she sat down on her bed and patted the spot next to her.

JJ had been in her room plenty of times, but this time felt different and it was making him incredibly nervous. He set the lilies on her bedside and glanced over at the picture of the two of them she had framed on her bedside. She was sat in his lap with a big smile holding her drink in the air while JJ had his arms around her waist and was smiling at the camera. He still couldn’t believe he was the one she chose to have on her nightstand, maybe their friends were really right about her liking him.

“I wasn’t the one buying you those flowers the whole time.”

“You said that.”

“It was our friends.”

“I’m sorry?” Their friends had been behind this the whole time? She couldn’t even bring herself to be mad when JJ was looking at her like she was the only girl in his world.

“I got drunk and spilled my feelings about you, they were trying to get me to confess my feeling to you.” JJ’s voice was nearly a whisper. He was scared if he spoke too loud he would scare her away. 

“Your feelings for me?” Y/n’s voice sounded shaky and she wanted to kick herself for giving away how she was feeling way too easily. She shifted so she was fully facing him, in turn moving their faces even closer. JJ’s head was turned towards her, taking in the hopeful look in her eye.

“Y/n. I can’t stand the thought of you going on a date with another guy. I know I wasn’t the one to give you flowers, and I’m sorry because I should have. You deserve that.”

“I don’t care about the flowers, J.’ 

“You don’t?”

“No, if this means you’re telling me that you like me.”

“Baby, this is me telling you that I love you.” Y/n surged forward and pressed her lips against his. JJ let out a surprised moan but was quick to recover and pull Y/n into his lap and bringing his hand to the back of her head to kiss her harder.

“I love you, JJ. I have for so long.” She pulled away quickly to whisper to him before shoving him back and crawling on top of him.

#outer banks jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj x you #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #outer banks one shot #outer banks fic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank smut #outer banks blurb

[kararisa]

between you, me, and these bookshelves

synopsis: just the little things that happen in a little bookstore.

— featuring: albedo, ayato, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader (separate)

— cw: modern au, swearing, yn is an avid reader, use of childe's real name, none of the books i mention here are real lol

— author's notes: first headcanon post with multiple characters~ very self indulgent so hope you guys enjoy <3

Working at a bookstore isn't the most glamorous job in the world.

The pay is good for the amount of work you need to do, and most days nothing much happens.

But sometimes, there are just some events that happen between the bookstore's mahogany shelves that make your days just a bit more colorful.

Albedo

The bookstore has a chalkboard stand outside that details new releases, promotions, or events that the store has. Displayed on it are elaborate illustrations or hand-lettering, all of it done by the same person.

And he comes by every other weekend to re-do its contents.

You sometimes watch him as he draws, his nimble hands becoming dusted with colored chalk as he sketches on the blackboard, his light blond hair tied back as he furrows his brow, deep in concentration.

He’s caught you staring a handful of times, to which you turn away in hopes that he doesn’t bring it up. Thankfully he never does.

This week you watch as he colors in his artwork, a dragon and a young man with wings at the center soaring over rolling plains and sharp cliffs.

As the boy gets started with the lettering, you ask him a question.

“Do you really just come up with all this on the spot?”

The boy looks at you with curiosity in his eyes, “So you do talk. And here I was wondering if you just didn’t like talking to me.”

“Well, I don’t exactly know what we can really talk about. You’re a freelancer right?”

He smiles as he returns his attention back to his illustration, “You can say that. Well to answer your first question, I usually have a final outcome in mind before I start sketching. Your boss sends me a gist of what he wants and I draw it. Simple as that.”

You converse with him until he finishes, sprinkling in some questions about his work in between. As he packs up to leave, you ask him one last question.

“I never got your name, chalk boy.”

A silent question, but one that he still understands.

“It’s Albedo.”

The two of you end up striking up an easy conversation every time he visits, with you always watching him draw

If you express interest in his other works, he’ll let you browse his sketchbook 

One day while flipping through his drawings, you begin to see some familiar sights: a vending machine outside a nearby convenience store, a food stall, and the outside of the bookstore. Some pages have small doodles in pencil and ink, and some in color. Others have full illustrations.

The next page that you flip to, though, nearly takes your breath away. 

You find a colorful illustration of the bookstore, a blend of paint and ink. Sunlight streams through the glass walls and envelops the scene in a warm light. Boxes lay strewn on the floor, all of them brimming with books. And among the boxes stands you, a stack of books in hand as a small smile graces your face.

You look up when Albedo spots the page you’re on, “Ah, I hope you don’t mind that I sketched you a handful of times. I tend to draw what I find interesting.

“So is it alright if… I sketched you more often?”

Scaramouche

Scaramouche pisses you off most days.

He distracts you while you try to do your work, he steals the pen by the cash register whenever you need to use it, and worst of all, he always makes fun of whatever book you read.

No matter what genre it is, mystery, fantasy, or heaven forbid, romance, he'll always find something to tease you about.

But it’s odd. For someone who claims to hate every novel that you've taken interest in, you find yourself discussing with him each and every book you’ve read.

“Sure, Forest of Lies had a strong opening,” he starts, leaning back on his chair, “But did the princess seriously need to go through those arbitrary trials just to prove that she was determined to save her kingdom?”

“Fine, I thought it was stupid too,” you say, “But you have to admit, the characters are actually well-written and have interesting subplots. The knight having a backstory connected to the princess’ was a good twist.”

“But does anything really come from that twist? Or was it just there for shock value? When you get to the part where–”

You let out an exaggerated gasp, “Spoilers! I just got past the twist, asshole.”

“You should read faster then!” he says, going into the storage room to fetch some supplies, “Whatever, we’ll continue this when you finish the damn book.”

You’re about to continue reading when Scaramouche pops his head out and adds, “The next two novels in the series go downhill in quality from there. Trust me.”

“But this is a trilogy??”

“That’s the point!”

You realize that he had a point when you finally got to the second book.

Around halfway through reading the book, you catch him reading over your shoulder. You turn to look at him and he simply gives you a smug smile. You simply rolled your eyes and continued reading.

A couple of days go by after you finish the second book when he approaches you.

“What’s the occasion?” you say as Scaramouche hands you a book, a pen, a highlighter, and some book tabs.

It’s a novel on your wishlist, you notice; one that you had mentioned to him in passing. Small colored tabs stick out from the side of the book. Thumbing through the first few pages, you see that he underlined some passages, his neat writing occupying the margins, the blue highlighter bringing your attention to a handful of quotes. Just from reading the first sentence as well as Scaramouche’s comments, you could tell that you were going to enjoy reading this.

But you recall a casual remark he during one of your past conversations — he doesn’t typically annotate his books. Did he do this for you?

“Nothing. Just thought you should read a good book for once,” he answers, not quite looking at you.

“Excuse you, I read good books sometimes.”

“The last book you read, you kept ranting about how the writing wouldn’t just ‘let the characters fucking talk’. Your words, not mine.”

“And the last book you read, you literally couldn’t finish because you kept getting fed up with the protagonist doing nothing.”

He groans, “Are you gonna accept my gift or not?”

You give him an unimpressed look, setting the book and stationery aside, “This novel better be as good as you say it is.”

He was right. The book was actually good. You even ended up adding your own annotations alongside his — like having your own conversation amidst the pages of the book.

His comments, whether they be snarky, insightful, or analytical, definitely enhanced the experience. And thanks to that, you end up finishing the book in just two days.

Another one of your story discussions happens and, amidst the bickering, a book he mentions piques your interest.

After making fun of the ever-growing list of books he wants to read, to which he retorts by saying you’re not better off, an idea pops into your head and you search for the novel he’s looking for.

It’s in a genre you wouldn’t typically go reaching for, but this is the least you could do for him, right?

You spend the next week reading and annotating the book, using the highlighter and tabs Scaramouche had given you to highlight passages and give your comments.

The shocked look on his face when you gave him the copy of the book was definitely worth it.

“Just thought you should read a good book for once,” you say, sliding the book toward him.

“Huh. Don’t you hate this genre?”

“Surprisingly enough I actually liked the story; you have decent recommendations when you’re not being such a dick. So, are you gonna accept my gift or not?”

He rolls his eyes, snatching the book from the table, and mumbling a quiet ‘thanks’. 

You pretend not to see the blush that reaches his ears.

Ayato

It starts off as most days do, with a delivery of new books.

You open the box to find the newest releases as well as some bestsellers. One of the covers catches your eye, the title Child of the Roses emblazoned in front of an illustration of two women laying in a field of red roses — one of the books you’ve always wanted to get your hands on ever since the author announced the plot.

Sure you could purchase the book right now, but your budget for the month didn’t have a lot of wiggle room. And if you did wait until next month, you couldn’t exactly guarantee the availability of the book since it always manages to sell fast.

While you’re restocking the shelves, the door to the store opens, and in come a man and woman with pale blue hair. 

The girl starts looking around while the man walks up to you.

“Does your store happen to sell the book Traingazing?” the man asks. There’s an elegance in the way he carries himself — well-dressed, handsome, and dignified in the way he speaks, “It’s alright if you don’t.” 

You confirm its availability and lead him to the nearby shelves, “You lucked out today, sir. This is our last copy.”

He laughs. Fuck, even his laugh sounds expensive, “Lucky indeed. My sister and I have gone to five stores today just looking for it.”

The girl, his sister, you presume, comes up to you two with a small stack of books in hand, “Did you find it?”

The man holds up the book, its silver-edged pages gleaming in the fluorescent lights of the store, “Got their last copy, too.”

She sighs in relief, “Good. You can finally stop nagging me about you never being able to grab a copy before they sell out.”

“Says the one who dragged me to eight stores looking for a book you ended up hating.”

The siblings leave shortly after purchasing their books. 

The rest of the day passes by as normal. Rush hour usually comes around early afternoon to late evening, when students get out of school and people usually get off work. 

Unfortunately, your shift just about lines up with the store’s more chaotic hours.

You spot a familiar blue-haired man again later that evening while you’re in the middle of helping another customer. He’s browsing the shelves when he spots you.

“Can you help me with something? I’m looking for a gift for my sister.”

“Oh, the girl you were with this afternoon, right? What kind of books does she like?”

He describes the types of books she favors along with a handful of her favorite authors. You lead him to some nearby shelves, picking out some books and giving him a brief synopsis of each one. He listens intently to each of your suggestions, his lilac eyes focused on you.

As you’re finishing up, he spots a book behind you and grabs it from the shelf. You spot the familiar title, Child of the Roses. As usual, whenever you restock it, it’s the last one in stock. “You thinking of buying that one? It’s our last copy.”

The man reads the synopsis as you summarize the plot, “Seems like quite the interesting book if it got you so excited.”

You laugh at his remark, “Well, I’ve been wanting to read that book for a while now, but I never manage to get a copy before they sell out.”

He considers the book before saying, “Is that so?”

Your co-worker calls for you before you can respond, saying that they need help with manning the cash register.

After almost an hour of helping with scanning barcodes and packing books, the blue-haired man stands in front of the counter.

He holds up Child of the Roses, “If it’s alright, I’d like to make this a separate purchase.”

Figures he’d buy the book if the reviews and your excited ramblings are anything to go off of. While you were sad that the chance to purchase the novel had once again slipped away, at least you could be reassured that it would be in good hands.

After giving him the book and the receipt, he simply hands them both back to you, “You were quite passionate when you described the book to me. I thought I should buy it for you before someone else gets it.”

This has to be a dream, “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I mean don’t get me wrong! I’m grateful, but don’t you want to read this, too?”

A smile graces his face, “Of course. You helped me find what I was looking for this afternoon, so this is the least I can do for you.”

When you finally get home and settle down for the evening, you open the book, intending to get through just one chapter.

That’s when you find a calling card in between the pages of the index and the first chapter, the name Kamisato Ayato in immaculate handwriting on one side along with his number.

On the back was a message: I’m actually currently reading Child of the Roses, so I have no need for another copy. But if you’d like, we could go out sometime and read it together. What do you say?

Childe

Most days there's not really much to do aside from the usual talking to customers, restocking the shelves, and helping close up shop. 

So sometimes you read just to pass the time. 

You’re just finishing up a chapter when the door to the store opens.

Ajax, you learn his name, is a massive flirt. Instead of talking to you like a normal person, he instantly says the cheesiest pickup line you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t need glasses,” he says, leaning on the counter, “ ‘cause I can clearly see that we were meant to be.”

It’s way too early for this shit, “... sir are you going to buy a book or not?”

He tips his head back and laughs, “C’mon! You have to admit that one was good.”

And he’s come by the store every so often ever since.

He’s quite the chatterbox too, talking about anything he can think of whenever you scan his items at the counter.

You learn he’s an older brother when he asks you for book recommendations for his younger siblings. His attentiveness to his siblings’ taste in literature never fails to put a smile on your face.

You also learn that he’s very knowledgeable in literature.

He comments on one of the books you’re reading during one of his visits, talking about his favorite scenes as well as discussing the characters with you.

A week of nearly daily visits turns into a month, with you getting used to his corny pick-up lines and little conversations.

But then it suddenly stops. A week passes without Ajax’s visits.

You don’t think too much of it until that one week turned into three. 

He was under no obligation to come back every day, of course. He was a customer, at the end of the day, and there was never any guarantee that he wouldn’t suddenly stop visiting the bookstore nearly every day.

But you couldn’t help feeling dejected at the thought of just never seeing him again.

Then, on one unassuming Monday afternoon, a familiar face returns to the store.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” Ajax winks at you, “Mind if you help me look for a book?”

You smile, doing your best to hide your surprise, “Good to see you’re still doing well.”

He gives a vague description of what he’s looking for: a sci-fi series that’s appropriate for his little brother Teucer, the third book to a series his sister Tonia is currently reading, and “whatever you think is good” for him.

Walking over to the shelves, you could feel his eyes on you as you started picking out the books for his siblings. A soft smile is on his face when you turn to face him, becoming wider when your eyes meet his.

“You were gone for a while,” you say, unsure of how to continue. His life is none of your business and like hell were you going to admit that you missed him.

He sighs, “Yeah. Work has been a lot these past few weeks, but now that it’s loosened up I can finally start seeing my favorite person more often.”

“Your favorite person huh?”

“Getting the chance to talk to you is the highlight of my visits. Of course you’d be my favorite person.”

He leans in close to you, “Y’know, I just realized that I’ve lost my number. So can I have yours?”

You roll your eyes, still smiling, “You could have just asked for my number like a normal person.”

Ajax laughs, and you find yourself wishing you could listen to it every day.

#albedo x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #albedo fluff #ayato fluff #scaramouche fluff #childe fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin modern au #genshin drabbles

[obrowne21]

ʙᴀʙʏ ɪ’ᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ

Chapter 2 - “Hates the Perfect Word”

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“Don’t stay out here too late, Baby.”

Sergeant Ken Lemmons was only partly joking with Baby when he said this to her. However over the three weeks of getting to know the stubborn blonde, he realized it wasn’t so far fetched for her to lose track of time.

And that would be proven correct as Baby was still out on the Airstrip, working away. She found it difficult to leave seeing as the view was so beautiful. The sunset painted the sky a warm orange and pink tone. A calm breeze briefly passed her, ruffling the tall grass, the trees, and even the bottom of her dress as it did so.

Sighing, she found a comfortable spot on a nearby crate. Busying herself by screwing two engine pieces together with a basic rod. The action was done smoothly like muscle memory.

A loud sound of an engine and the screech of tires had broken her peaceful state. Internally rolling her eyes, Baby prepared herself.

That could mean only one thing.

The jeep made a rough stop in front of her causing her to look up at the person responsible for the interruption.

Major John ‘Bucky’ Egan.

Even the thought of his name sparked annoyance in Delilah. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that was so infuriating.

Maybe it was the way he walked around base like he was the king of the world. He had everybody under his spell, especially her brother Gale. She couldn’t understand how the two had ever became friends.

Or maybe it was how he would sometimes get caught looking at her but would never say anything.

It was like a game of tug of war. Always giving her signs of interest but then taking it back as if he physically and mentally couldn’t bring himself to go there with her. Like something was stopping him, more like someone.

She had a pretty good idea of who.

“A little birdy told me you were out here.” Leaning back in his seat, Bucky faced the woman.

Delilah, uninterested, gave him a nod before focusing back onto her work. “Never really liked birds.”

“Sad to hear that. They’re real fascinating creatures. I’m more of a unicorn guy myself-”

“I bet you are.”

After a beat of silence, Delilah glanced up to see him staring at her once again. It could’ve been because she had just rudely interrupted him but by the way the corner of his mouth twitched into his signature smirk made her think differently.

His eyes held nothing but admiration as he kept his gaze on her. The way she smoothly worked away like it was her second nature was wildly attractive. Not to mention the quick wits that shamelessly left her pretty mouth, which instead of feeling insulted he would always feel more amazed by her.

“Gale send you out here?”

“No.”

“So tell me…Major Bucky,” The name rolled off her tongue as a taunt. Placing the tool and engine piece down beside her, she leaned back onto her hands. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence?”

Bucky watched as she seductively crossed her legs and tilted her head awaiting for an answer. The reminder that she was his best friends little sister kept blaring in the back of his mind. But it was so damn hard to listen to.

“Maybe I just want to be in yours.” Copying her action, Bucky tilted his head. “You ever think of that?”

”It’s hard to when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

He knew exactly what she referring to. Part of it was intentional but at the same time he really never knew how to approach her. Which was odd for him.

John Egan never struggled in talking to women. However he would always overthink with Delilah. She made him nervous, in a good way.

“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Bucky let out a nervous scoff knowing he had been called out.

The use of the nickname made Baby raise her eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a new one.”

“You like it?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been called many things, Major Bucky, but sweet has never been one of them.”

“What?” He dropped his jaw dramatically, pretended to be shocked. “You’re the sweetest.”

Bucky watched as she let out an adorable laugh as she threw her head back. A small wave of pride washed over him at the fact that he got her to smile, let alone talk to him for more than five seconds.

“If I’m sweet then you’re a good singer.” She playfully jutted.

“Oh,” He placed a hand on his heart. “You wound me, Baby. I’d have you know I’m an excellent singer.”

“A little birdy told me differently.”

Looking away Bucky chewed away on the piece of gum in his mouth. Damn, she was good.

“If this birdy happens to be tall, boring, and has a head full of blonde hair on his head than you should ignore him and come see for yourself.”

Delilah laughed not taking him seriously. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious.” He said. Eyes connecting with her honey brown ones. “There’s a dance, day after tomorrow. Come and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Might skip out on this one.” She declined.

Nodding Bucky looked down. An idea popped into his head that might change her mind. “Huh, guess you Clevens are more alike than you want to admit.”

If there was anything he learned from witnessing the Cleven sibling duo was that they both were complete opposites. Buck was more serious, rule follower, and never really liked to do anything risky.

And although he didn’t talk to Delilah much, he would notice how she liked to do things in an untraditional way. Her presence here as one of the first female mechanics proves that. She also loved to make fun out of most situations. A small joke was always at the tip of her tongue and she could never keep it there.

He’d like to bet she loved to dance too.

Picking up the tool beside her she pointed it at Bucky with an annoyed glare. “Take that back right now.”

Bingo.

“Makes sense.” He shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Guess the ‘never have a good time’ genes got passed down to both of ya.”

“I can have a good time.” She rebutted.

Bucky nodded, not really convinced at all. “Okay.”

A moment of silence passed as Bucky continued to poke fun at Delilah as she thought over his words.

Letting go of her cheek, the one she was anxiously biting, Delilah sighed. “What times the stupid dance?”

A smile of victory took plastered across the Major's face as he mentally celebrated. “I’ll be there at 8:00, that’s when the real party starts.”

“Can’t wait.” She gave him a fake smile.

Taking a look around, they both knew that it was about to get dark soon and should head back.

Reaching over the passenger seat of the Jeep, Bucky propped open the door with one arm. “Hop in, sweetheart. I’ll give you a ride back.”

“I have a bike, you know?”

“That old thing?” Simultaneously the two turned to look at the bike leaning on the side of the crate she was sitting on.

“Yeah,” Delilah smiled proudly. It was one of the things she built on her own when she first got here. “Isn’t he pretty?”

“He?”

“Well you men always refer to your cars and planes as woman, so I’d thought I’d return the favor.”

As the blonde continued to admire her piece of work, Bucky’s gaze shifted to her. Taking in her smooth tan skin and pretty freckles that he’d like to individually kiss. And finally her full lips that were just calling his name.

He watched as she grabbed the handles of the bike and easily kicked her leg over to get on it. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Baby?”

“I’d rather ride a thousand miles on this old thang than one in there with you.”

He was left speechless as she petaled away without a second thought. The fact that her and a Buck were siblings was still a shock to him.

No matter how different the two were they both had something in common. The Clevens had captured John Egans heart. With a Buck it was respect and friendship. And with Delilah.

Oh, Delilah. He hadn’t even got to know her fully yet and she already had him hooked.

Snapping out of his trance he started the engine before catching up and riding along beside her. Now he was back to looking between the road and her pretty side profile.

“Still got you to go to the dance with me.” He gloated.

Once again, John Egan had managed to make her smile. Shaking her head she tried to petal faster but he would just match her speed. “I hate you!”

“Hates a strong word.”

“Hates the perfect word.”

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A/N : As y’all can tell I love a good slow burn. Hope y’all liked it! Let me know your thoughts on it please, I love to hear feedback.

ALSO DAYUM YALL REALLY CAME THREW WITH THE LIKES ON MY POSTS

Tag list(I can’t believe I have those now🤭):

@valenftcrush

@justheretoreadthhx

#john egan #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #madelyn cline #callum turner x reader #bucky egan #gale cleven #callum turner #buck cleven #austin butler #masters of the air #mota fanfic #motaedit #mota #mota spoilers #ken lemmons #harry crosby

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐇𝐈, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 8k

chapter summary: Joel takes you on your first date. A barbecue meant to be fun becomes a minefield of unpleasant memories for Tommy.

warnings: mutual masturbation, piv, dirty talking, light spit play, PTSD, war flashbacks, angst towards the end

a/n: yup, you're seeing correct, I uploaded a day early!! woooo

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

When Joel mentioned taking you out for a date, you couldn't help but imagine something simple and unassuming, just like him. You envisioned a quaint, unpretentious restaurant where you could share intimate conversation, followed by a leisurely stroll back home. You knew Joel wasn't exactly an innovative man; however, his wood carving skills, took you by surprise when he showed you some of his artwork, it made your heart grow fonder for him. As much as he poked fun at himself for not understanding art, or knowing much of it, he was an artist. 

In the end, you weren't expecting anything extravagant, and you had no complaints about it. That was a part of his Texan charm. It was who he was, and you loved him for it.

What you didn't expect was to take a thirty to forty-minute drive to South Congress.

“You didn't have to go through all this trouble,” you say as Joel opens the truck door for you. Smiling, he rolls his eye. He offers you his hand, and with a skip in your heart, you accept it, feeling the heat of his palm. Joel steadies you as you hop down from the vehicle. Sarah was at another sleepover, carefully orchestrated by Joel, making it the perfect time for him to take you on the first date he mentioned a couple of days ago.

“It’s no trouble,” he answers, moving his jaw. “But if you keep sayin’ that I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re not a fan of the idea.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. No need to worry your pretty head about that.” 

Before taking the first step, he holds your arm and tugs you back toward him. Your eyes widen when he throws your jacket over your shoulders, “‘Might get cold,” he murmurs, fingers skimming down your bare arms. Then he sighs. “I love it when you call me pretty. Makes me all tingly inside.” 

“Well then,” you smile, leaning closer. “Let me say it again, you’re pretty. Prettiest man I know.” 

Joel's lips curl into a wide grin, his humming filling the air. “I’m blushin’,” he teases, capturing your lips in a swift, lingering kiss, lacing his fingers with yours. “I knew this would be a good idea,” he mutters against your lips in a self-congratulatory tone. His taste lingers on your mouth, leaving you craving more. 

“I don’t want to burst your bubble but I’m still not sure what we’re doing here. You never told me.” 

Hand in hand, you and Joel set off, walking down the street at a leisurely pace. The sun, beginning its descent from the vast expanse of blue skies, painted the world in a soft, golden hue. 

“We’re here to look at the murals,” he explains. “Thought you might like it, bein’ an artist and all. And if we get hungry there’s this Tex-Mex place I like to go to, I take Sarah there all the time.” 

He's nonchalant about it, yet he still averts his eyes. A soft crimson flares under his shirt, creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Your heart beats quickly. You may now be a part of his life, but Sarah will always hold a tender place in his heart. Something he hesitates to share, like a tiny box of secrets. She's his everything. You wonder how many times he had to keep that part of himself hidden, how many times he mentioned his daughter and saw the hesitation in the other party's eyes. It's no one's fault, really. It's a complicated situation no matter which side you consider. And you're fairly certain he's never mentioned his romantic endeavors to Sarah. Why would he? To him, none of it ever led anywhere, so there was no sense in telling her about it.

You don't want him to be nervous about sharing more about that part of his life. You have adored Sarah ever since you met her. Now, you're somewhat grateful that it took the two of you longer than normal to get here. It gave you a chance to show him that no matter the state of your relationship, you'll be there for Sarah, for Tommy, and for everyone he cares about.

Because you care about them too. 

“You visit here a lot?” 

He tips his chin, “We used to,” he answers and offers you his arm, you thread the gap between torso and tricep. “When she was five we came here a lot. Really liked it.” 

A half chuckle, half exhale leaves his lips. You give him a sympathetic look. “Well, maybe we can come here together one day. Tommy too. We can make a day of it, I bet she misses it.” 

"Yeah," his eyes glaze over for a second, looking ahead towards the sun-kissed street. You softly dig your nails into his arm, snapping him out of it. He blinks and tenses under your touch. "Yeah, we definitely should. Maybe during spring break or somethin’."

You squeeze his arm again, and when he turns to look at you, you smile. He returns it in kind, and you feel his smile leave an imprint on your skin as his lips touch your forehead.

“Can’t wait to show you all of it, sweet tea.” 

And he does. 

Joel shows you everything that he loves. The streets of Austin come alive with vibrant murals, each one captivating in its own way—some simple, some complicated. You see the South Congress Mural on South Congress Avenue that stands tall, its graffiti letters painted in vibrant colors, depicting the cityscape. The italicized phrase 'I Love You So Much,' spray-painted by Amy Cook for her partner Liz Lambert—Joel doesn't say much here. He stares at it for a while before gripping your hand tighter. Suddenly, he tugs your arm, pressing his lips firmly against yours, sucking the air from your lungs. Here, you take a quick coffee break and continue on.

There are so many. Your eyes catch sight of a mural depicting a piece of toast and yellow butter, lovingly painted on a vibrant blue wall, inside the piece of butter and toast it says “you’re my butter half”. You laugh and nudge Joel in the ribs and repeat the words to him. His smile is the widest you’ve ever seen. 

Joel introduces you to Jeremiah the Innocent. A smiling cartoonish frog, on top of it you read HI, HOW ARE YOU. He then told you that Jeremiah had another name as well— Ron. Named by, of course, Sarah. Leaning closer, you tell Joel that you agree, the frog looks much more like a Ron rather than a Jeremiah. 

After that Joel, a keeper of his word, takes you to a small Tex-Mex place. He orders chips and queso as an appetizer, followed up by two cold beers and tacos. 

"I think you might have killed me," you say, rubbing your stomach and leaning back as the cold metal of the chair bites into your skin.

Joel cocks an eyebrow, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “So. . .no dessert?” 

“Don’t joke,” you answer seriously. “I always have room for dessert.” 

He laughs, “You sound like Sarah,” just as you begin to smile, he adds. “And Tommy actually. That man has an endless pit instead of a stomach.” 

“Tell me about it.” you grin. 

The sun begins to disappear, shades of light blue fading into something darker that lingers in the sky. It reminds you of the times when you angrily slap your widest brush on top of the canvas and just move it around without any aim or goal. The string lights come to life. Joel looks gorgeous under the soft glow; it's almost dreamlike. If you were to reach out, you're not entirely sure that he wouldn't fade away.

His hand finds yours over the table, lacing your fingers together. A stuttering, silent breath escapes your lips. The effects of alcohol buzz both in your veins and mind. His thumb traces your knuckles, a gesture so familiar yet foreign at the same time. With a smile, you bring the back of his hand to your lips before he does. You tenderly kiss him, feeling the softness of lips moving over the mountains and valleys of his hand. His breath hitches, and your ears feel warm.

"Should we head back?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker. His thumb finds purchase on your lower lip and tugs on it, eliciting a soft gasp. "I think I'm gettin’ hungry again."

You kiss the pad of his thumb as he cups your cheek, and you nuzzle into the width of his palm. Wetness gathers between your legs, heat building at the base of your spine. You can't wait for him to devour you.

Joel’s fingers trace the spine of the book that lays idly on your bedside table. He adorns a soft smile, gaze curious as he picks it up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, turning your back as he begins to flip through the pages. “I’m going to freshen up a bit, make yourself comfortable.” 

With that, you exit the bedroom and head to the bathroom. You're feeling positively tingly. The ache in your bones would normally entice you to go to bed early, but sleep is the last thing on your mind right now. All you want is for that man to ravage you. During the drive back, the only thing on your mind was his lips, his hands, his cock—his weight on your body.

You quickly splash cold water onto your face, sighing as the cool numbness replaces the sticky sweat from the day. After brushing your teeth, you head back. 

You smile when you see Joel sitting at the edge of the bed, book still in hand. 

He’s looking at something. 

You raise an eyebrow, taking a step closer. There’s something in his hand, something smaller and vaguely familiar. 

Shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

“Joel?”  Your voice barely manages a whisper, you're surprised he hears your pleading call of his name. He flinches, shoulders raising all the way to his ears. You clear your throat. “What. . . What are you looking at?” 

You already know the answer. 

"How long have you had this?" he asks, every word sounding dull. He twists his body enough to face you, holding the small Polaroid picture between his fingers— oh god, you're screwed, aren't you?

"I-I can explain," you blurt out, increasing your steps' speed. You stand in front of him, the picture's glossy surface reflecting the light into your eyes. "You forgot your magazine, and when I opened it to read it, the... the picture just fell out, I swear! I know I should've told you, gave it back, but, well, I—"

Unable to keep your eyes open due to the constant spinning of the world around you, you close them. His gaze remains fixed on you, half moons hidden beneath bushy eyebrows. Embarrassment surges through you, heating you from the inside out. In a fit of desperation, you cover your face with both palms, sighing into them. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," you mutter, your voice muffled by your hands.

Joel stares at you, dumbfounded. With shaky legs, he stands and gently cups your wrists, tugging your hand away from your face. You refuse to meet his gaze, your eyes glued to a spot on his neck. You miss how wide his eyes are, how his gaze grows soft as he stares. 

“Why are you sorry?” he whispers. “I think you misunderstood, sunshine. I ain’t mad. I’m embarrassed.” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, lifting your gaze. “Why?” 

He smiles, “Lots of why’s goin’ around,” you continue to stare and he clicks his tongue. “It’s a half-naked picture of me. A picture that I took, you can’t blame me for gettin’ flustered.” 

“You look good.” 

“Thanks,” he scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s better that you found it instead of. . . Tommy or worse.” 

You know what worse means. He’s right, he was lucky it had been you. 

“I’m just glad you’re not mad.” 

“Me, mad at you?” he shakes his head, looking appalled by the thought. “Never.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

His hands drop to your waist. Fingers roughened with work digging into your flesh. The excitement you felt comes rushing back, flooding your veins. Joel pins your hips together, the growing outline of his cock brushing your clothed mound. You gasp and he inches impossibly close, lips brushing your ear. “Why did you have it in your little book over there?” he drawls, his voice thick. “Did you touch yourself lookin’ at it, sweetheart?” 

Your voice shakes and you can barely get a word out. You swallow, shaking your head. 

“Don’t lie,” he hums. The drag of his lips down your neck turns your insides into mush. “Can I see?” 

“See what?” 

A moment of silence follows. You take this time to unbutton his jeans and slip a hand underneath the dense fabric. You cup his length, and it hardens in your palm, growing in size. Your breath hitches as his hips move forward, chasing the grip of your fingers. Taking a deep inhale, you breathe him in, filling yourself with his scent. 

“I wanna watch,” his voice cracks. “See how you touched yourself while thinkin’ of me.” 

Your breath hitches, “And what will you be doing?” 

You stroke him slowly, the pad of your thumb moving over the slit before moving down again. You shiver at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin. 

“I’ll be watchin’, sweetheart. Engraving your spread-out cunt into memory.” 

“Jesus, Joel,” you breathe heavily, your pulse loudly thrumming in your veins. Joel is absolutely filthy—something you never thought you’d be thinking. He tugs you towards the bed. With every step, another garment falls to the floor. You’re shivering all over, body cold yet warm at the same time. The expectation crackling in the air pricks at your skin. 

What is this? It never felt like this before. A need so desperate. A want so large. In this moment you’re convinced that you and Joel were always meant to be as pretentious that might sound. You have no idea how else to explain it. Every time you’re with him, even in the most peaceful moments, you feel an impending. . . something. You’re not sure what it is yet but you know it’s a wicked, dark feeling. A dystopian surrealism. The works of  Zdzisław Beksiński; death, destruction, shattered worlds. . . yet still beautiful. You love those paintings. Just like Joel, it leaves you uneasy and mystified. 

The air is knocked from your lungs as your back hits the bedrest, your naked legs falling open like a butterflys’ wings. You wait for a touch that never comes. Joel drags the chair and takes a seat. He pulls out his hefty length, fingers loosely curling around it. You hold your breath. 

“Don’t keep me waitin’ now,” he rasps as he touches himself lazily. “Show me.” 

Your eyes never leave him, and you slowly circle your clit with two fingers. An immediate sense of relaxation and soft pleasure blossom over different patches of skin. You pinch the sensitive bundle of nerves and continue moving your fingers around. You arch your hips, wetness growing with every stroke. Your insides clench. Joel’s heavy breathing fills the room, your own breathing coming out in short pants. 

“Spread yourself darlin’,” his voice lowers, making your stomach turn. With two fingers you show him, spreading yourself s while you circle the middle one around your clit. A soft whimper of his name echoes from the back of your throat. It’s different like this. Knowing that he’s right there, staring, observing your every move. It lits a fire between your legs. A feeling so raw and open.  

Your ache swells inside of you like wildfire. You keen at the slick sounds of Joel’s fist accompanying your own lewd sounds. The rest of the world falls silent, your mind a complete blank, your sole focus on the man that makes you feel soft and tender. 

A build-up to an orgasm can be a strange thing. Sometimes you don’t think of anything or anyone, just focused on your fingers and the fire between your legs. Other times your imagination becomes so vivid that you swear there’s a cock splitting you open. Your stomach clenches, muscles rippling under the faux feeling of someone being there with you. And, technically, there is someone with you but not in the typical sense. Your back lifts from the mattress, your feet sliding down the soft sheets as your fingers move frantically. You can feel it hardening, throbbing under your ministrations. 

“That’s it,” Joel groans, the bed dips, you’re too far gone to notice he stopped jerking off and is inching closer for a better look. “Come for me, darlin’. Let’s see how you make a mess.” 

Your ears ring 

Your lips part so wide that the corners are aflame

Your throat constricts a silent plea

Your fingers twitch, insides pulsing as you gush and make a mess—just like he wanted. 

You love doing what he asks of you. 

You feel it trickling down the inside of your thighs, the curve of your ass. It’s too much. Whimpers rattling your chest, your throat sore. Joel mutters praise, telling you how good you are, how perfect. Another soft lingering orgasm warms you from the inside out, more drops of pure ecstasy spilling over. 

He trails his hand up the inside your thigh, slick gathering at the tips of his fingers. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you clench around nothing, “Next time I’m bringin’ the camera over.” you give him a look and he chuckles. “It’s only fair, don’t ya think?” 

“I don’t think that picture will be sexy as you think,” you answer, smiling. 

He frowns, his look almost glaring as he stares into your eyes, “Bulshit. You’re gorgeous. It’ll be like havin’. . . the . . . Mona Lisa in my pocket,” he says, slightly unsure.

"I do appreciate you using art references whenever you talk to me; it's like a gimmick," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer. "Hey, if you want a picture, you can have one. Just promise not to leave it lying around like you did with your own. I don't need any more embarrassing moments in my life."

“We all have embarrassing moments.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a promise,” you answer with a playful lilt. He rolls his eyes, a hand sneaking down between your bodies, he aligns himself with your sopping sex, cock filling you slowly, inch by inch. Your eyelids flutter, a moan ripping from you. 

Fully inside you, he murmurs into your mouth, “I’ll guard it with my life. Promise.” 

His words fall on deaf ears. Your vision blurs at the stretch of his cock, drawing his hips back, only the bulbous head remains. He watches you. Watches your fluttering cunt adjust to the size, then, just as you’re about to say something, he slams into you. Electricity crackles over your skin, a sensation that makes you feel numb. Joel buries his head into your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin as he sets a brutal pace. His strokes are slow and hard. Every ridge felt as he massages the insides of your cunt. It’s exhilarating. Breathtaking. So much so that you think you’re crying a little, soft salty tears gathering in your eyes. 

“You wanna know something?” he groans, fucking deeper into you. “I thought of you while takin’ the picture. Thought about this perfect cunt.” 

He holds your thighs with a heavy hold, pushing both legs up until your knees are grazing your forehead. You don’t think being a pretzel ever felt so good. Joel jackhammers into you, the wet glide of his cock leaves you breathless. Between narrowed eyes you watch him; his brows furrowed with concentration, lips slightly ajar, pink tongue poking out. He’s flushed. The soft tint of red looks good on him. You desperately want to bury your lips into his neck and lick the vein that meanders down, you want to sink your teeth into it. 

In a quick glimpse, his eyes briefly catch yours. The muscle in his jaw moves and he licks his lips, the color in his irises gone, eaten away by lust. You notice him pursing his lips and your eyes go wide, a thin line of saliva drips from his mouth, adding to the mess between your thighs. Your breath falters, you squeez him tight. His hips stutter but he’s not phased by the sudden tightness. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, voice hoarse. “I wanna feel you comin’ around my cock.” 

You moan at how soaked you are, your fingers playing with the mixture of spit and slick. It doesn’t take you long. A couple swipes of your fingers and you’re seeing stars. Your orgasm sears you from the inside out, your entire body tensing at the force of his thrusts. With a knee-jerk reaction, you grip the back of your thigh, nails biting into your skin. He pushes your hand away, thumb soothingly going over the crescent-shaped marks. 

His unwavering gaze aggravates you. A sudden shame rolling in your stomach, he bats the thoughts away by allowing your legs to fall and frame his broad waist. Suddenly his lips are on your own, sucking your tongue into his mouth, swallowing the moans. He tastes your hesitations, your fears, your unsaid love for him—all of it, from a single, hungry, messy kiss. 

Joel’s hips slow down into a delicious grind, the coarse hairs that crown his cock doused, you feel the brush of his pelvis on the pearl that beats. Your insides flutter one last time before he’s pulling out, spilling over the soft flesh of your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he moans into your open mouth. You shudder at the trickle of seed on your skin. “That was amazin’ sweetheart. You always feel so fuckin’ good. ‘Can’t wrap my head around it.” 

You giggle, “I hope you know the feeling is mutual, neighbor,” you feel the wet drag of his lips down your cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good before.” 

“You’re just sayin’ that,” he tuts, breath fanning your neck. 

“Do I need to remind you how we ended up in this bed?” you tease. “You, finding a picture of yourself that I masturbated to? If that doesn’t convince you I don’t know what will.” 

He thinks about it for a second then shrugs, “Fair.” 

“By the way thank you for. . . everything. I had a great time Joel,” you thread your fingers through his mussed hair and he lays his head on your chest. His hand gently cups the underside of your breast, a possessive gesture. You feel the scrape of his beard as he speaks. 

“I didn’t do nothin’ special. You deserve more.” 

Your heart clenches the ache of his self-deprecation a reflection of his inability to perceive his own worth. “Stop selling yourself short—” 

He cuts you off, “You deserve to have a relationship you don’t need to hide. It’s not fair.” 

Your heart splinters, torn between the desire to protect what you have and the yearning to be truthful to those that you love. When your silence grows, Joel look up to you, his eyes wide like full moons. And just as somber. Your lips crack in a smile. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “We’ll tell him eventually. When we’re ready, right?” 

He swallows, throat moving. “Yeah,” he answers, gaze breaking away from yours. “We will. When we’re ready.” 

Neither of you are brave enough to ask when that might be. 

The sun beats down on Tommy’s skin and with the back of his hand, he wipes away the sweat on his forehead. Next to the grill is always the hottest. It’s a beautiful day out, birds chirping, sun shining and whenever a cloud passes by, adding a bit of color to the boring blue sky, Tommy sighs in relief, enjoying the fleeting coolness of the passing shadow.

Joel is at the grill, and from the corner of his eye, Tommy sees him turning the ribs and chicken wings. A loud sizzle fills the air, and with a hiss, Joel backs away, cursing as a searing drop of fat lands on his tanned skin. In typical younger sibling fashion, Tommy laughs, earning an equally heated glare from his older brother. Neither of them says a word. Joel returns his gaze to the meats, while Tommy shifts his eyes back to the large bowl he's holding. It contains a mixture of a generous amount of barbecue sauce, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, minced garlic, smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. He gives them another vigorous stir before adding the stemless button mushrooms. He tosses them all together until each one is evenly coated.

A bead of sweat rolls down his face, “Joel, I know you have this sense of always wantin’ to be right but I doubt our recipe is gonna be the one to change her mind about mushrooms.” 

“It will,” he grunts, shirt dipping and sticking between his shoulder blades. “If she doesn’t, more for us.” 

“Well, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” 

Joel doesn’t answer and Tommy doesn’t bother to force a conversation. The silence he shares with his brother has always been a comfortable one, but lately, that hasn’t quite been the case. There’s this wall that he can’t seem to breach no matter what he does or says. And ever since Joel broke up with Asha, it only got worse. He can’t shake the sense that whatever his older brother had in mind, it must be about you. It has to be. 

Tommy’s feelings for you haven’t exactly disappeared. As much as he wished he had a button to turn it all off, he can’t, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t mind staying friends. What he feels for you is more than that. He enjoys your company, your jokes, your thoughts. He can’t imagine living out the rest of his life without it. 

However, he's not stupid, contrary to what many people might believe.

Tommy has noticed the stares, the weird tension in his brother’s shoulders whenever you’re around. Hell, if Joel has feelings for you he should just own up to it, talk about it. All Tommy wants is for Joel to come and talk to him. However, when it comes to romance, Joel rarely does. Even after the breakup with Asha, Joel barely said a word. Tommy later on learned the details from Asha and it fucking stung. 

Ever since they were little, Joel had this tendency to shoulder everything, it didn’t matter if the issue was big or small, he would carry it, and he would do so in silence. Tommy hated that. He wanted to talk about things, wanted to tell Joel about his nightmares, the blank notebook that Tommy can’t bring himself to write into—he desperately wants things to change. He wants Joel to stop playing the martyr. Tommy’s not a kid anymore, they can carry the weight together. 

“Gosh that smells delicious!”

Tommy jerks at the sound of your voice. Startled, he looks up and sees you making your way through Joel’s yard, carrying a Tupperware full of coleslaw and a pitcher of homemade iced tea. You place both items on the wooden table and walk toward the brothers. Just as you pass by Joel, your hand brushes his shoulder. Again, Tommy sees him visibly tense with the contact. 

You turn to Tommy, arms spread wide, a joyous grin stretched across your face. Tommy mimics the expression, pulling up a different kind of mask. He pulls you into a tight embrace and presses his lips ointo your forehead. 

"Oh, are those the mushrooms?" you ask, still held within Tommy's arms, your gaze lowered to the small table Joel brought out for food prep. "I'm both terrified and excited."

“I hope you’ll like’em,” Tommy answers. “Joel is convinced that you will.” 

You laugh and mouth at Tommy, "Do you think he'll explode if he turns out to be wrong?" Tommy can barely hide the snicker that escapes his lips.

“I heard that,” Joel grunts without looking. 

You expertly move the conversation along, “Where’s Sarah?” 

"She should be here soon," he responds. "She mentioned wanting to buy some lemon bars for the barbecue."

“Where is she buying them from? Olivia is going to come over too so she can pick Sarah up.” 

After discussing locations and making a quick phone call, Olivia happily agrees to pick up Sarah because, according to you, she's not that far away anyway. You help Tommy skewer the barbecue mushrooms, and conversation flows seamlessly. Even Joel gradually loosens up, relaxing as he starts to place the prepared skewers. You appear surprisingly cheerful, and Tommy doesn't mean to imply that you were ever a downer—rather, he hasn't seen you this relaxed in a long time. It seems the grief that had molded you months ago, forcing you to behave a certain way, had loosened around you. Now you see what he’s seen all along; that you deserved to make jokes and have fun and be happy. 

He likes to think he had a part to play in that with the renovation of the room.

In the midst of finishing up the mushrooms, a car stops, and a moment later, Olivia and Sarah hop out.

Sarah wastes no time wrapping her nimble arms around Tommy's neck, giving him a tight hug. Tommy returns the gesture in kind, lifting her off the ground a little. "Hey, sugarcube! How was school?"

"Boring," she answers, letting go. "How was work?"

Tommy scrunches up his nose, prompting a bubble of laughter from her. "Boring," he parrots.

While Sarah heads inside to change, Olivia places the lemon bars on the table and comes to greet you. The sizzle of the grill fills the air as Sarah's voice cuts through the lively atmosphere, calling out to Joel from the window of the house. "Dad, I can't find my purple shirt!" she exclaims. “You said you’d have it washed today!” 

Joel turns his attention away from the grill, a concerned furrow forming on his brow. "I'll be right there, sweetheart," he assures her. He looks over at Olivia. "Liv, can you man the grill for a moment?"

Olivia nods, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Consider it done. You go find that shirt."

With a grateful nod, Joel moves swiftly toward the house, leaving Olivia to handle the grilling duties. He passes by Tommy and you, giving a brief smile and a nod of acknowledgment before disappearing inside.

Tommy's gaze follows Olivia as she confidently takes charge of the grill, her tongs expertly flipping the remaining skewers and wings. There's a sense of ease in her movements, a natural grace that Tommy finds captivating. Her focused expression softens with a slight smile. 

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a moment to observe you as you retrieve a couple of cold beers from the cooler. The sunlight catches in your hair, casting a warm glow around you. 

You approach him with the beers in hand, Tommy can't help but be captivated by your infectious smile. It's a smile that reaches your eyes, radiating happiness and a genuine warmth that draws him in. He takes one of the beers from you, his fingers grazing against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.

"Cheers," you say, raising your bottle in a toast. Tommy mirrors your action, their bottles clinking together, the sound ringing in the air.

"Cheers," he replies, his voice laced with genuine affection. The clinking of the bottles marks a moment of connection, a shared bond that goes beyond mere friendship.

“Isn’t it interesting?” Olivia suddenly says, snapping your attention from Tommy to her. He frowns.  

“What is?” you ask. 

“That I’m here. . . doing all the work without a beer in my hand.” 

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cooler, “You could’ve just asked you know?” you tease, handing her a cold bottle. She shrugs with a wink. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Tommy smells smoke. The crackling of flames too loud. Their banter fades into the background. His body grows tense by instinct, feeling the threat of danger that isn’t there. He becomes uncharacteristically still, listening, but not hearing anything. 

“Ah shit, I burnt it,” Olivia hisses, fanning the smoke with a moisturized hand. “Well, at least I only burned three of them. You guys think Joel will kill me?” 

He hears bits of the conversation, your laughter following Olivia’s words. The smoke in the air is thicker now, grayer. Sweat sticks to his skin and Tommy swears he feels the familiar feeling of hot dirt on his skin. Unaware, he starts rubbing his arms, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling. 

Tommy smells gunpowder. 

He hears bullets whizzing through the air. 

Just as the grill suddenly flares up, a searing pain jolts through Tommy's body. In his disoriented state, he misconstrues your touch on his back as a threat. Reacting instinctively, he moves away, his mind clouded. His hand inadvertently catches your wrist, twisting the limb. You let out a shout. 

A surge of guilt pierces Tommy's heart as he realizes that it’s you. His eyes widen with a mixture of fear and remorse, and he releases his grip on your wrist, his hands trembling. "Fuck, sorry—" he stammers, choked up. "I. . . I thought. . ."

Before he can finish his sentence, he sees Joel above your shoulder, his face etched with concern, closely followed by Sarah. 

"What happened?" Joel demands.

You step in before Tommy can explain, his chest heaves, “Nothing, I just startled him.” 

Joel doesn’t seem to buy it, his gaze fixed on his baby brother, he raises an eyebrow. “Tommy?” he asks again, his voice leveled. 

Tommy's gaze shifts from you to Joel and Sarah. He struggles to find the right words, his mind still tangled in a web. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head. Joel’s gaze softens, hands coming up to cup Tommy’s cheeks. He lifts his brother’s gaze to face his own. 

"It's okay, Tommy. We're here. We're safe, you’re home," when Tommy attempts to back away, Joel holds him tighter. "Let's just take a moment to breathe."

Tommy’s mind blanks for a second when Joel visibly takes a deep, slow breath. Joel looks at him with a sign of expectation and the younger Miller mimics the way he breathes. Deep and slow. One, two, three. Once more, and that’s it. He’s breathing again. The sky is blue again. 

“Shiiiit,” he exhales on the last breath. Joel drops his hands and takes a step back, you’re standing right next to him, brows drawn together. Suddenly the guilt is back. “I’m sorry,” he says the apology muffled by clenched teeth. “Are you. . . okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you say hovering back and forth, wanting to come closer but also not wanting to overwhelm him. “Do you need anything?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he takes a step closer, taking your wrist between his fingers. He gently smooths his thumb over where he bent—god, he’s a fucking mess. “We should put some ice on that.” 

“I got it!” Olivia jumps out, placing the end of the cold bottle on your wrist. You stifle a snort. She narrows her eyes at you. “That’s a weird way to say thank you.” 

You roll your eyes, “Thanks, Liv.” 

Tommy pulls away and takes a seat. Content in having calmed his brother, Joel returns to the grill and gives Olivia a look that screams, "What the hell have you done?!" 

He smiles, feeling his racing heart finally begin to calm down.

“Are you sure you’re alright uncle Tommy?” 

His eyes meet Sarah’s, two concerned and observant juvenile eyes staring into his own. He’s not sure what to say—no, he knows what to say, he just doesn’t know how to say it in a way that she’ll believe him. 

Without waiting for a response, Sarah sits next to him and reaches for two glasses and the pitcher. She pours iced tea into both. “Here,” she says, prompting him to replace the beer with the glass. Tommy obliges. 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he murmurs. “That ain’t your responsibility.” 

“It’s not. . . but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry. And I know you can’t talk to me about it, I’m not dad, but you know I love you, right?” 

“‘Course I do,” Tommy answers quickly, ignoring the way the sun stings his eyes, he forces them to stay open. “Your dad takes good care of me. And I know you care, I appreciate the reminder though,” he lets out a sigh, drags a heavy palm down his face, and swallows. “I’m gonna get better.” I have to get better. 

Sarah doesn’t say another word. She slowly drops her head to his shoulder, looks over to her father who’s in the middle of placing three mushroom skewers on your plate. Tommy smiles. 

“They’re idiots,” she murmurs, he doesn’t miss the affectionate cadence in her tone. 

“Yeah,” Tommy answers. “But they’re our idiots.” 

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. However, your love for mushrooms still remained nonexistent, much to Joel's surprise. He was shocked to see that his and Tommy's barbecue mushrooms hadn't managed to convert you into an avid mushroom lover. In an attempt to mask the lingering taste, you nearly downed the entire pitcher of iced tea—making sure Joel wasn't looking, of course. He was still quite salty about not liking them. He even went far as to pout about it, which you found adorable if you’re being completely honest. You're not sure his ego could handle the thought of you desperately wanting to scrub your tongue with a sponge.

Olivia was the first one to leave as the scorching sun was replaced by shiny stars, and you helped with cleaning up. You noticed that Tommy was avoiding your gaze like the plague, and Joel remained silent about what had happened. Your wrist, although not physically hurting, still ached. You had promised him that you would be there for him, but you felt like you had failed miserably. You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, and if today was any indication, there was a lot happening.

When he’s about to bid his farewells, you touch his forearm. It’s such a small gesture but he flinches anyway and you quickly withdraw your hand. You chew the inside of your cheek. 

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, swallowing. “I have some leftover wine.” 

It doesn’t take him long to answer but the seconds that pass feel like an eternity. He nods and gestures to the door. 

“I’ll be waitin’ outside, go get your things.” 

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a sec.” 

He closes the door softly behind him. A click that is barely audible. You hear footsteps and turn to see Joel exiting the kitchen. “Everythin’ good?” he asks. 

“I think so, I invited Tommy over. I think it’ll be good to talk.” 

You see it in his eyes, the need to hold you, to cradle your cheeks and brush your lips together. The internal fight is visible from his expression. You figure which side wins when he remains still, staring, eyes flitting between you and the windows near the door. Tommy’s smoking a cigarette with his back turned. 

“I think so too,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He’s been more closed off lately and my usual grumpy self probably ain’t helpin’.” 

“I applaud you for admitting that you are, in fact, grumpy.” 

He tries to hide it but can’t, a small smile peeking from under his mustache. “Shut up.” 

“I really wanna say make me,” you grin and pick up your bag. “But I don’t think we have time for that.” 

“I’ll remember, don’t worry.” 

You ignore the way your legs press together at the sudden drop in his tone. The chill of the doorknob sends shivers down your spine. You’re afraid of being alone with Tommy. You’re scared that you’re going to blurt everything, all of it. You miss being able to talk to him—Tommy definitely wasn’t a stranger to the rants about the many failed romances in your life. With a sigh, you crack the door open. You hear a shift behind you. . . then a gentle hand on your waist. 

A kiss on the back of your neck. 

“Call me if you need anythin’.” 

“I will.” 

You finally step into the warm night. Tommy turns to you, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. The knot in your throat makes it hard to breathe, the younger Miller looks over your shoulder. 

“See ya later old timer,” he calls out to Joel. You don’t hear him answer but you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, the click of the door follows. Cigarette loose between his lips, Tommy offers you his arm and you take it. 

The walk to your home is a silent one. 

Your house is ominous in the dark, quickly, you flick the lights open. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

“I always do,” he murmurs and takes off his shoes. “Would it be alright if we skip the wine? I’m not really feelin’ up for it.” 

“Of course,” you answer. “Do you want anything else?” 

“Nah. Let’s just talk.” 

The request takes you by surprise. You blink dumbly at the back of his head, and when the silence fills the space between you, he turns. He stares at you for a moment, gauging what your reaction means. His brows come together, a humorful smile tugging at one corner of his lips. 

“Why do you look so shocked? That’s why you invited me over right? To talk.” 

“I. . . Yeah, exactly.” 

He heads to the living room and you follow his trail like a lost duckling. “Before you say anythin’,” he says, lifting a hand as you take a seat next to him. “Let me apologize. I didn’t mean. . . I would never hurt you. Today was an accident, I got lost.” 

Lost. . . that was exactly what it was, wasn’t it? 

“It’s okay, it was my mistake really. I shouldn’t have touched you when you were so out of it. Can I. . . Can I ask what you were thinking about?” 

His shoulders raise, his breathing becomes shallow, “I think it was because of the smoke. I was right there, at the battlefield, again. Fuck. I didn’t know.” 

You wait for him to continue. 

“There ain’t much out there you know? Just you and a couple of brothers you made along the way. When you see them fall, it’s hard to erase the memory of it.” 

“No one is expecting you to erase it,” you whisper, your hand hovers above his knee and when he nods, you place itover the curve. “As hard as it is, that’s a part of you. No one blames you for today. No one is mad at you. We just want you to be okay—I want you to be okay.” 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m workin’ on it. I just hate talkin’ about it so much. I tried. . .I tried to be the hero you know? I tried so hard to make a difference. It didn’t mean nothin’ and when you realize the person you’re gunnin’ down is just as lost as you are, you realize there are no heroes in the battlefield.” a sudden chuckle bursts from his lips, compeltly void, he covers his face with a palm. “But I’m still so stupid. I still want to believe some difference can be made. I want to be good so fuckin’ bad and I don’t know why. I should be happy just doin’ my own thing like Joel but I’m not.” 

His words sink into your skin, blend with the blood in your veins, and suffocate your lungs. You want to cry. He sounds so broken, so hopeless. The need to hold him makes your knees tremble. You imagine an eighteen-year-old Tommy, signing up with the army with a hopeful gaze. You’ve heard the stories, remember Joel telling you the arguments that followed after that. Tommy hadn’t backed down, adamant about proving his brother wrong. The stubborn nature of it reminds you of your own brother, the endless arguments that would go on and on and on with your grandfather. 

The army takes their hopes and dreams and spits them out broken and strange. 

“You’re not stupid, Tommy,” you mutter, barely audible. “We all want to be good. There’s no shame in that. I’m. . .similar, I always want to do the right thing. I want to be good too. Don’t compare yourself to Joel he. . . he got lucky with Sarah. As long as she’s happy and safe he doesn’t care about right and wrong. We on the other hand, we’re still trying to find ourselves. It’s not as easy for us to make that distinction. We think endlessly about the ones who get caught in the crossfire.” 

God, but you aren’t doing the right thing. It’s easy to forget that with Joel’s lips on your skin—sure, maybe you’re not straight-up lying to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re being dishonest. 

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. So round and wide. “People like you can’t try to be good,” he answers, confusing you. He waits, allowing the silence to follow as he thinks of his words. “You’re already good. You don’t need to try to be.” 

The confession bubbles up from your chest to your throat. You taste it. Sweet like sugar and deadly like poison. You have to tell him. You need to tell him. 

You lick your lips, your mouth  dry like sandpaper. He’s staring directly into your soul, he sees something hopeful. Something good. You want to shake him, tell him that he’s the good one. He doesn’t blink. Not once. You open your mouth. You’re going to do it, you’re going to tell him and whatever happens next, however he reacts, it’s what you deserve. 

Normally, Tommy’s eyes are a shade lighter compared to his older brother’s. While Joel’s eyes walk the line of being downright black, Tommy’s always reminds you of your favorite brand of chocolate. 

But right now it’s dark as night. Just like Joel’s. 

“Hey,” he finally blinks, smiling. The confession that had bubbled to the surface slowly simmers down. “We should get some sleep.” 

“But—” 

“I appreciate you talkin’ to me sweetheart. I. . . feel better, in a weird way,” he comes closer, kisses your cheek. His lips are damp. “I’ll be sure to talk to you more in the future, a’right? Promise.” 

“Okay,” you mumble. You both get up from the couch and saunter upstairs, the air that surrounds you lighter. He takes the guest bedroom, the room where August slept the week before. 

Tommy stills at the door, “Well, goodnight.” 

You can’t leave it at this, you just can’t. 

“Tommy, I need to tell you something.” your words are sharp and clear. His hand tightens around the doorknob, what does he think you’re about to say? 

“Yeah?” 

You can’t do it. Coward. 

“Do you need. . . another pillow?” 

“Um,” he opens the door, takes a look. “No, I’m good. Is that all you were gonna say?” 

“It is.” 

It isn’t. 

I'm sorry that this took me insanely long for some reason???? Honestly, I blame the fact that I'm not used to writing family dynamics, it's hard. 😭😭😭 but nonetheless I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you guys thought 💜

I did make a post about it but I'll be taking a small break from SIB, I will return to it and will be working on it in the background but I really need to let my mind loose. The next two chapters are already outlined so y'all won't be waiting for that long! This isn't one of those series where the rest of the plot is lost in time and space and I'm too chicken to work on it lmaodfvd

Thank you so much for all the support!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

[keraxxx]

Hate or Jealousy?- Part 3

pairing- oliver quick x fem! reader summary: After the other night, Oliver is getting tired of hearing his name in your mouth so he takes matters into his own hands. warnings: Smut, oral(Oliver receiving), brat taming, praising, oral fixation (implied), cursing, somnophilia(implied), not proof read wc: 1.5k A/N: Hi guys! sorry this chapter took so long to get out that is completely my fault! Hopefully you like this chapter its kinda just smut with no plot but next chapter will have more i promise. Enjoy! comment to be added to taglist

Requests are open

-

Why did you let him do that? Your head was reeling and you felt sick to your stomach for the next few days. It’s not like you didn’t want him to do that.. no. It wasn’t like that at all. But you let him manipulate you into eating all because he touched you? God how pathetic. You were mentally beating yourself up for being so stupid. You didn’t want to eat but if you stop, who knows what Oliver will do next.

You’re lying in your bed, curled into a ball, knees pulled up to your chest. You have this blank expression painted on your face, as if you’re unable to comprehend a single thing in your life. You hear a soft yet firm knock at the door. “Who is it?” You say dryly. “Farleigh.” You hum quietly and he comes in, a concerned expression painted on his face. “What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird for the past two days.” You bite your lip as you sit up, your hair a mess yet still framing your face perfectly.

“Shut the door..” You whisper and Farleigh obeys. He walks over to your bed and sits down. “It’s about Oliver.” You whisper making sure no one in the hallways can hear. “The other night we..” You trail off and Farleigh immediately understands. “Oh.” He stifles a laugh but you glare at him and he immediately stops. “Right. Not funny, sorry. What exactly happened?”

“Well.. he like..” You shrug and look away. “I don’t know. He was all like ‘Oh, you’re gonna start eating from now on’ blah blah blah, ‘you’re just like Venetia, you’re so beautiful.’” You inhale deeply as you recall the memory. Farleigh looks at you in shock. “Well..” He exhales and looks at a wall in your room. “He didn’t like.. force you, right?” You shake your head. “I wanted to. God! He’s such a weirdo but i can’t stop myself from thinking about him..” You sigh and Farleigh raises an eyebrow. “So you like him?” He chuckles.

“No.. yes? I don’t know!” You sigh dramatically as you lay back down. “Maybe i should talk to him about it..” You whisper as you bring your thumb to your lips and bite at the skin around your nail bed. “Right.. well! I’ll leave you to it.” He says softly as he pats your shoulder once more before heading out the room. You huff as you hear the door close. You really need to talk to Oliver.

You find your way to Oliver room, walking through Felix’s empty room and shutting the door. Oliver is sitting on the bed and he perks up. “Ollie..” You whisper, staying alert of anyone near the room. “What the fuck.” You whisper yell as you stay against the door, your hands behind your back as he feel the wood door. “Nice of you to see me..” He says softly as gets off his bed, walking towards you. “I enjoyed the other night..”

His voice.. there was something he was hiding behind his seductive tone. Was he lying or being genuine? You couldn’t tell. “Shut up.” You practically barked as he got closer, inches away from your face. “Why would I?” He smirks slightly as he places his hands on your waist. “Look at you..” He says softly as he looks you up and down, tutting to himself. “Perfect even after you eat.” He snarks and your face twists into a frown. “Get off me.” You don’t attempt to push him off though.. you let his fingers dance on your curves as he looks at your body. “Do you really want me to, love?” He sarcastically frowns as you avert your gaze from his. “God I hate you,.”

“You really fucking love me.” He whispers as he moves his head in front of yours so you’re looking at him again. “I know you do.” You lock eyes with him, your bottom lip quivering. He knew he was right. Well, partially. Love was too strong of a word.. you liked him, most definitely. “Gods sake..” You mumble as you gently push him off you and open the door to leave his room.

Everything that went down was too much. You liked Oliver and he fucking knew. That’s not a good thing.. at all. Just the thought of him made your clit throb.. the sight of him. Every time you laid in the field, body completely exposed to him, you enjoyed the attention he was giving to you. At first you didn’t, but now you did. Him observing your smooth legs and looking at your exposed chest did something to you and you didn't know why. This isn't good.

"Wait Ollie-" You moan out as he kisses your thighs, slowly getting under your covers as his hands trail up underneath your white shirt. You don't know what's happening. You woke up with Oliver kissing your neck. Everything was a bit fuzzy but fuck.. it felt so good. Your hands fly to the top of his head and your back arches up slightly as he kisses your clothed clit. "Ollie wha-" You grunt softly as you look down at him between your legs, hands resting on the sides of your ass. "You have such a big mouth.." He whispers as he tuts. "You should learn to be quiet and not gossip so much like your aunt." He trails his way back up to your face and you look into his eyes nervously. "You want my cock?" You can feel his breath on your lips and your mouth opens as your about to answer but he quickly covers your mouth. "Nod." You nod eagerly and he groans as he flips you on top of him.

You lean against the backboard of your dresser and you place your lips on his, allowing yourself to taste him. He quickly rips himself off you and shakes his head. "That's not the way to keep you quiet.." He scoffs as he lifts you up slightly, pulling down his pajama shorts, revealing his plaid boxer briefs. You want to moan at the sight of his hard cock yet you don't. You have to be quiet.

Oliver nods as you look down at it, hopping off his lap and eagerly bending over the side of him to slide down his boxers. You bite your lip as his cock springs out. You look at him and he leans his head back, his eyes locked on your pretty and plump lips. "Go ahead." He ushers and you slowly wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He shivers in excitement as your warm mouth swallows him whole. "Fuck darling.." He huffs out as you bob your head up and down his throbbing hard on, collecting every drop of pre-cum.

"You're so good for me.." He grunts out as he places his hand on the back of your head. "Good.. good.." Oliver whispers to himself as he controls your head. He pushes your head down, causing you to choke and sputter around the base of his shaft. He moves your head up and you pant, your spit falling down your lips. He laughs dryly as he looks at you. "You're better when your quiet you know.." You smile as you go back to sucking his cock, feeling him throb inside your mouth was something else. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter by the second. You tease him, your tongue trailing from his base to his sensitive tip. He grunts and his grip on your hair tightens. You swirl your tongue around him and without giving him a break, you quickly shove him down your throat again, softly moaning at his taste.

You could feel him becoming more frantic, his breathing getting heavier and his hips bucking up into your mouth faster than before. He was so close and you wanted him.. "Darling..." he whines out as he gasps softly, his cum shooting in your mouth and you push your head down so you can swallow it all, making sure not to miss a drop. He gasps as you pull yourself from his cock with a pop. You look at him and he eagerly places his hands on the sides of your face, wanting to taste himself on your lips. Seeing him so desperate was disgusting in a way yet you liked it. He pulled away and gently wiped your mouth. He pulled your head closer, fingers tangled in your hair and you groan softly.

"We need to be careful yeah? You don't want anyone else knowing what happened between us, right?" You nod and bite your lip. "Good.." He sighs as he gets up from your bed and pulls up his pants. "Farleigh is going to tell Felix but don't worry about it. I'll handle it tomorrow." He says and you look at him. "Wait you were eavesdropping on me and Farleigh?" He turns his head over his shoulder. "I told you to be quiet." He says smugly as he walks out your room, quietly shutting the door.

What the fuck.

-

Taglist: @l-ange-maudit @trashdemon04 @hahahafucku @powellssaturn @ihaterule14 @girlypop-06 @nolovinyou

#smut #x reader #fem reader #imagine #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #barry keoghan #barry keoghan smut #barry keoghan imagine #felix catton #felix catton smut

[romkive]

Hey lovely! Can I request some date hcs for rook, idia and lilia? Like where they'd take you and what their favorite date activities are? Thank you and love you bunches!!! <3

omg of course! Anything for you pookie <3

ROOK, IDIA AND LILIA DATE HEADCANNONS

tags : fluff, gender neutral reader

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Rook

  Rook, for me, seems like the type of man who would prefer for you to choose the date location since he wants to see the places that “bring out your inner beauty, mon cheri!” But don’t get him wrong, he would be so happy if you ask him to be the one to decide the place and the activities . I still believe that he would choose something according to the vibe you give him. 

 If you prefer more relaxed dates, Rook would suggest going to a gallery or a botanical garden. He would find enjoyment in looking together at the exhibits and to either explain them to you and vice versa. He would also bring a camera with him to take photos of the exhibits and of course you, it brings him so much happiness. Be sure that he would praise your beauty among the paintings/flowers for eons but just know that everything he says it’s completely true. He also seems the type of person to try to find a painting/flower that would resemble you and immediately show it to you. Please do the same for him, Rook will be overjoyed. 

“Mon étoile, this painting reminds me of you. The way their eyes look like they are shining from love is magnificent and their lips curving into a coy smil- wait did you say that painting reminds you more of me? Oh! Hahaha you little trickster….you have no idea how much that fills me with joy, thank you..”

  On the other hand, if you like to do something fun for your date, he would definitely suggest paintball! Don’t worry, he would go easy on you , after all he wants both of you to enjoy the date. And seeing your determined and concentrated face upon close makes Rook more lovestruck by the second. Also if you are inexperienced with paintball, be sure that he will leave everything to go help you out, no matter the team you guys are!

“That’s it, raise it just a little higher so you will hit him right across his protective vest, we don’t want our dear company to be hurt after the game. That’s it, you are doing great. Eh? I am a little bit too close? So sorry mon cheri, it wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable..Heh? You didn’t mind it? Oh…then you wouldn’t mind if I got a little closer, right?”

Idia

  First of all, I have to applaud you for getting him out of his room to go on a date with you. We all know that Idia is extremely shy to go out but with the help of his no.1 wingman, aka Ortho, he will definitely grow some courage and mayyybeee leave his tablet behind. Okay maybe not. But still Idia wants to choose a date spot that you will love and at the same time both of you feel comfortable with, so a very cozy date is his way to go.

 Since he would feel bad if you stayed inside for the whole duration of the date, one of his most creative suggestions was a Board Game Shop date. As a member of the Board Game Club, I feel he would have a grasp on what type of games you will find fun . Also this is a good way for him to see what your preferences are and he loves it when you come up to him and excitedly tell him about a game you found that you want to play together. Little do you know that that’s exactly what he wants to do. So when you are not looking, he goes and buys the game that you were most excited about. On the way home he has a warm smile on his face when he hears you being overjoyed that he bought a game for both.

  “When we reach home, do you want to play it together? It will be fine if you can’t, I completely understand if you are busy. HUHH? YOU-YOU CANCELED EVERYTHING TODAY SO WE CAN SPENT THE DAY TOGETHER? Why did you… fine fine sorry… and thank you.”

  If Idia is in a more confident mood, rare I know, he would suggest going to a cat cafe. Probably when the cafe opens so few people would be around. But that doesn’t make it any less special. The way Idia’s eyes lit up when he was around those cute little cats and you was unmatched. The way his hair was up in a bun ,so the kittens wouldn’t be burned, was so adorable even though the kittens had something else in mind. They would flock around his hair due to the warmth and the lighting and would play around like moths on a light pole. Idia even though he was worried for the kittens, he couldn’t help laugh when they were attacking him at all fronts. Please take a lot of pictures and videos for him, he would be so touched his hair will turn pink.

  “Look at all those kittens! OMG they are so adorable, I wanna take them all home and just cuddle them up and take so many pict- h-hey why are you smiling like that? You think I-I am more ad-adorable? Well you are totally wrong cause that is you. I said nothing!”

Lilia

  Lilia seems the most knowledgeable about dates from the other two due to him living for so many years but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy them anymore. On the contrary, he feels so warm inside when you propose to go on a date with him. Silver would be a little baffled seeing his dad so happy but the moment he realizes why, he is supportive. With a little persuasion, Malleus, Silver and Sebek would convince him to not do a dinner date cause “It’s more fun if you have a change of scenery” but thankfully Lilia had more ideas in store,

 Unfortunately for you, one of them was a picnic. No matter how hard they tried to force Lilia out of the kitchen, Lilia did manage to make some stuff for both of you to eat. If we put aside his inability to cook, he strongly believes that food is a form of love, so his strong feelings will show if he makes something with a strong taste no? Thank Silver and Sebek afterwards for packing some fruits too. But nevertheless, the date is super fun, doing cloud gazing together, picking flowers and just overall sharing stories.

“So little one, I packed some sandwiches and some tarts for us to eat, all made by me of course. Huh? You want to eat later? My, my, can I ask why? Oh you wanna explore the area first? Of course everything for a person as lovely as you are…”

 If you are a music lover like him, make sure that he will recommend both of you to go to a concert. It doesn’t matter if the band is popular or not, if he knows them or not or if they fit his style, he just wants to hang out with you. He is happy to follow you anywhere and he is open to new experiences. Also during the concert he will make sure that everything is alright and he will make sure that you will enjoy it wholeheartedly. The moment a love song plays, make sure to check on him because his eyes are definitely not on the stage anymore.

“Uhm sorry sorry, didn’t mean to stare, it’s just….hahahaha how awful of me to just stare at you like that, forgive me, dearest. It’s just…oh I hate repeating myself. The truth is you are much more interesting to look at, I just wanna look at your smile forever, will you forgive me for that?” 

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt fluff #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud fluff #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge fluff #lilia vanrouge x reader #rook #idia #lilia #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #rook hunt imagines #rook hunt headcanons #idia shroud headcanons #idia shroud imagines #lilia vanrouge imagines #lilia vanrouge headcanons

[melodrangea]

I loved your nicknames headcanons so much 🥺Could I please have a Death the Kid in an enemies to lovers scenario where the reader is really laidback and chill. Kid hates how they never appear to take anything seriously on the surface, and the reader thinks he’s too uptight. The two eventually reach a mutual understanding that develops into a relationship

Tysm if you’re reading this!!

Of course my dear, and thank you so much!! 🫶🫶🫶

You didn’t specify a one shot or just headcannons so I hope headcannons are alright!!! :D

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Death the Kid w/ a Laidback S/O

-Kid would not BE ABLE TO STAND YOU at first

-he just can’t comprehend how you never take anything seriously, never study, always forget your homework etc

-AND YET YOU’RE STILL REALLY FREAKIN SMART

-you have the ability to just lay back and let most things roll do your shoulder while he just can’t

-and you aren’t exactly a huge fan of him either

-thinking he’s wayyy too uptight (which he is tbf)

-he’s always lecturing someone, everything needs to be perfect around him which you found to be a headache

-so safe to say you two don’t get along

-until the day you knocked over a painting in the hall

-Kid ofc is inconsolable as he stayed after school for several hours trying to fix and reposition the painting

-when he saw you coming out of the library, hair pulled back, jacket unbuttoned with a decently high stack of books in your arms, backpack swaying back and forth on your shoulder

You chuckled, tilting your head towards Kid and the painting. “Still fixing that painting? I’m surprised you didn’t use your Grim Reaper crap to fix it”

Kid rolled his eyes.“And I’m surprised you know where the library is, seeing as you never study”

You scoffed, “Atleast I work for it behind the scenes, school doesn’t come easy for people that aren’t golden-child pricks like you.”

“Being a grim reaper doesn’t give me enhanced intelligence, I do my fair share of studying like you.”

You paused, “you mean it isn’t easy for you either?”

“It’s easier sometimes but sometimes I don’t understand everything right away.”

“Huh, who knew?”

-From then on there was a change between you two, small at first

- like you not taking every opportunity to make some unsymmetrical, and him sometimes slipping you an answer you don’t know

-you two grew to have a very sarcastic academic rivalry, both pushing eachother to make the other better

-you didn’t know when you had developed a crush on Kid but it was hard not to, he was determined, driven, and handsome. And not as much of a snob as you previously thought

-then you ran into eachother at the library again, you were sat where Kid usually sits

He paused, noticing that his spot was taken

You saw him and start to stand up “sorry, you usually sit here don’t you?”

Kid shrugged, setting his books down across from you, “it’s fine, it’s just a chair. Is this one open?”

You cracked a small smile and gestured to the seat, “all yours.”

Kid sat down across from you, peering at the worksheet ahead of you. “Is that Professors Steins lab?”

“Yeah, I was just about to start it, is it hard?”

“I’m not quite sure, I haven’t started it yet.”

Your small smile turned into an evil grin, “you wanna race and see who finishes first?”

Kid looked at you, curiously. “And what do I get if I win.”

You shrugged, “whatever you want.” You pause, “within reason of course!”

“Seems acceptable, what would look like if you by some miracle beat me.” Kid said sarcastically.

You laughed, “hm, if I win. How about…you maybe take me out to lunch sometime?”

Kids eyes widened, his checks turning a bright pink in contrast to his fair monochromatic outfit.

You panicked, going to grab your paper to leave, “I’m sorry that was way to forward, I’m such an idiot, I’ll just go.”

Kid grabs your wrist, “no, it’s fine. And who said I didn’t agree to the terms anyways?”

It was your turn to blush. You nodded sitting back down. Kid grinned at you and picked up his pencil, starting his worksheet

You did the same, brain turned to mush, you frantically scratched at the paper

Mere ten minutes later Kid placed his pencil down, you had three questions left

You look down at his paper then at him, you frowned, tears of embarrassment working their way to your eyes. “You won Kid, what do you want?”

“Well If the offer still stands for lunch that would be what I want.”

Your heart skipped a beat, face turning bright red.

-from then on it only got better, the academic rivalry was still there but even more lighthearted then before

-Kid motivated you to work harder, and you pushed him to let loose sometimes, creating a healthy equilibrium for the both of you

-most of your dates are either study dates or out to small cafes

-he will refuse to take you back to the manor as long as he can (in fear of Liz and Patty mostly)

-but regardless of when you meet his weapons you’re just glad that Kid is your boyfriend and not another smart asshole

-It saves a lot of paintings from being destroyed

<3

———————————————————————————

that’s all folks!

thank you anon for the request! I hope you enjoyed and if anyone else has requests or questions feel free to get in touch or submit an inbox!

-Melodrangea <3

#black star x reader #crona x reader #kilik rung #kilik x reader #soul eater #soul eater x reader #soul x reader #stein x reader #soul eater dtk #death the kid x reader #liz and patty

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 first part

honestly im not even gonna say when the chapter is gonna be ready anymore...it'll be done when it's done...

anyways here's the first part. It's unbetaed but hopefully it compels/entertains you in some way as I finish the chapter up

“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”

Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.

Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.

“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”

“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”

“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”

“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Oh, I am. But Neuvillette, aren’t you getting tired of constantly having to avoid my questions and fend me off every single day? You know exactly what I want, why won’t you give it to me? Are you truly intending to keep doing this forever?”

“And you know very well that I will not change my position on this matter. There is no need for you to get involved in my marriage, nor do you have the right.”

Furina and Neuvillette glared at each other silently for a while. Throughout this week, she had constantly needled, badgered, and pestered him in an attempt to fish for any information about his day off, but he remained an immovable stone wall. He knew that revealing anything to her would only pour fuel on the fire, so to speak. Knowing her nature, he doubted she would let this go any time soon, but he could at least not give her any openings to pounce onto.

“No right to get involved in your marriage, huh,” Furina repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t forget that you have me to thank for it. Would you have ever even considered marrying this woman if it weren’t for me?”

Neuvillette did not say anything. They both knew the answer to that question.

“Even so, I do not owe you anything,” he said with a firm tone that signaled the end of their talk. “Now then, Furina, allow me to get back to my work.”

“Fine,” Furina said with a toss of her head. “It looks like I’ll be visiting you again tomorrow.”

“Please do so during my coffee break.”

Furina spun on her heel and was about to stride away when she suddenly turned around again. “You know, Neuvillette, I just don’t understand why you won’t let me meet the person who clearly brought you so much joy.”

Neuvillette narrowed his eyes at her. “I believe we were done here?”

Furina put her hand to her heart and made an expression of exaggerated joy. “How heartless! I do hope your wife never sees this side of you.”

He watched her until she left his office and the doors closed behind her. Letting out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifted to the misty painting hanging at the side of his office, almost by instinct. This was also something that had also become a daily routine for him.

He wondered what the painter was doing now. Around this time, you were sure to be in the garden, devoting all your attention to the sunflowers.

Were you waiting for him to come home? He hoped you weren’t. It looked like he would be returning late today. Well, to be honest, he usually returned home late at night, but now with you as his wife, it would be terribly uncouth of him as your husband to come home too late. In addition, he found that his willingness to work into the late hours had decreased considerably. Still, there were times when he truly had no other choice.  

But, there was a small part of him that would very much like it if you did wait for him.

Neuvillette did not know what to make of this new development in his feelings. He examined it, turning it over in his head as one would do with a particularly interesting-looking rock or seashell, then put it away for later. He needed to concentrate on getting through the stack of paperwork on his desk if he wanted to leave work earlier.

But before that…

His hand moved to his desk drawer, which contained a recently-delivered envelope. It was a stroke of good fortune that it had been delivered before Furina’s visit. He’d never hear the end of that if she saw its contents.

He opened the envelope and took out a stack of newly-developed photos. He flipped through them until he reached the photo of a young woman standing stiffly in front of an azure-blue willow tree. His finger idly stroked the edge of the picture. The colors were so vivid and crisp that he felt as though he could reach into the photo and touch the ribbon of your hat or the soft fabric of your sleeve.

It was strange. You were not a particularly cheerful or spirited person, but when he was with you, his heart felt lighter, freer. Not to the extent of forgetting himself or his responsibilities, of course, but… Was this what Furina meant by the “joys of matrimony”?

He couldn’t say he disliked it.

He carefully put the photos back in the envelope. What sort of face would you make when he showed them to you? Or when he showed you the other surprise he had for you? Would you smile at him once again? Would you take his hand in yours? A feeling of anticipation filled his heart. Unconsciously, his fingers brushed against his cheek.

The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.

You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.

It was evening now, though the sun was still in the sky. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds. Was Furina pestering him again?

It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.

After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.

I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most beautiful days in your life.

It was strange. Even though your days went on like usual after the date, you felt a little different. A little lighter. Reinvigorated, if you had to describe it in a single word. Your childhood hobbies, which you once considered frivolous and backwards, beckoned to you once more.

For a long time now, you felt like you were barely holding yourself up by the sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, in need of a support to stand tall and erect. Well, now you did have one.

I guess this is what marriage all about. Two people supporting each other for life. Although, it is rather one-sided in our case.

You bit your lip. It was irrational, you knew. Neuvillette was the powerful and respected Iudex, while you were an impoverished baron’s daughter from the countryside. Your presence in his house was proof of just how much more you relied on him than the other way around. You knew that Neuvillette didn’t expect anything from you, which only made you even more determined to do something for him.

You despised the feeling of owing someone. You hated having to completely depend on someone. That was one of the many reasons why you chose your career path.

But more than that…

Neuvillette’s distraught face flashed through your mind. Though you only saw it once, you never wanted to see that look on his face again.

Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and was reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.

“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”

As you approached him, you thought that he looked a bit fatigued, but the tiredness in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you.

“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy agenda today. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”

“I have. But have you eaten as well? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”

“No need for that. I’ve already eaten. But there is something else I want to talk about,” Neuvillette paused. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute, you thought, trying to hide your smile. “I was able to receive the developed photos today.”

He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.

The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.

You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. Neuvillette was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.

“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”

“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”

“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.

“Yes. It was a few years ago.”

“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”

There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table before they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”

Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm.  A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.

Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.

Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.

It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.

Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…

But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.

Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.

Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.

As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.

“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”

“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”

“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”

“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”

Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.

You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater��you really had been to all of those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.

The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.

You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…

Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.

You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.

That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.

You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.

“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.

“Because you were the one who took it?”

“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”

“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”

“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”

“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.

“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.

“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”

“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”

“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what it would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.

Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.

You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.

“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”

As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.

But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.

You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.

Would you ever feel that way again?

“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.

“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”

“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”

A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.

As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you spotted a few children’s picture books. Gifts from the Melusines? Or for entertaining them whenever they visit?

“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.

“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all of your pictures?

But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.

Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”

“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”

“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”

“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.

“Can you return them?”

“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”

“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”

“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”

“Well then, how about we give them away?”

“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”

Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.

“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”

You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.

“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.

“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”

“‘We?’”

“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”

“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”

With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.

“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.

“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.

“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”

“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, a thought suddenly struck you. “Oh, by the way, Neuvillette.”

“Yes, Madame?”

“Has Lady Furina been bothering you about…about me lately?”

Neuvillette blinked. He was silent for a moment before speaking. “She has. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m quite used to handling her.”

“But…”

“There is no need to worry, Madame. She will never need to know about you,” Neuvillette’s tone was firm. “I will do my utmost to make sure it stays that way.”

“…Alright,” you said, but it wasn’t relief that flooded your heart. “Good night, Neuvillette.”

“Good night, Madame.”

You closed the study door quietly behind you.

#neuvillette x reader #the winding path of fate

[smallraindrops-blog]

Falling Sand

Word count: 1k

Morpheus x GN!reader (light, pre-relationship)

Fandom: the sandman

Summary: reader haven’t slept in a while.

Warnings: no beta, some possible spoilers, non-canon 

Notes: some people collect stamps, k-pop stars or lovecraftian horrors. I collect gods of sleep appearly. Still watching the show but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. 

Enjoy!

Now with Part Two!

~

You haven’t slept in days when he found you. 

At first you weren’t sure what you were looking at. It was a man but the way he carried himself, the icy stare he gave you as you slowly rose from your overflowing desk. You could actually feel the bags under your eyes. 

Sleep was but a dream. One you gave up freely.  And this beautiful man, whoever he might be, was no man. When you were a child you saw the painting by Alexandre Cabanel, of the fallen angel. And Michaelanglo’s David. Their perfect beauty was flawed and ugly compared to the being in front of you. 

“I’ve been looking for you. you were surprisingly hard to find.” He said, his voice low. You chuckled, amused for a reason not even you understood.

“Oh?” You waved toward your kitchen, toward the nectar that awaited you in the coffeemaker. “Well, come along.” You didn’t bother to check to see if he followed you.

You weren’t convinced that you weren’t imagining him anyway.

You luckily found some clean mugs in the dishwasher and promptly got to work for your caffeine fix. Your guest glanced around the messy kitchen then to a very messy kitchen table. His mouth- his entirely too pink, entirely too distracting mouth- was pursed in disapproval. 

You tore your eyes away from his beauty, blinked heavily as you watched the coffee maker. You might be sleeping at your desk, he was simply too lovely to be real.

“Well, do you want to tell me why you are here, darling?” You asked then grimaced when you realized you used a pet name. You sounded just like your mother or that old landlady. 

“You haven’t been sleeping.” He said as the smell of coffee filled the space. You waited for him to say more but he didn’t.

You sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to be easy to talk to. Nor did you know his name.

“Darl- no, please tell me you got a name.” You said, pouring the steaming hot coffee into the mugs. One of them had a chip in the rim so you kept that one for yourself. You did have some manners after all. 

Finally, he spoke that rich voice of his. “Morpheus. Some call me Dream.”

“Well, you are pretty enough to be a dream.” The words slipped out but you shook your head, already trying to take them back. “Sorry. Forget I said that. Haven’t been sleeping.”  

“Yes, I know. That is why I am here.” 

You eyed the sugar, and only added a little bit but went heavy for the cream. Something about Morpheus told you he was a cream man. 

You placed the mug in front of him and took a deep sip of your own drink with a happy sigh. 

Then you made yourself look at Morpheus. He really was beautiful, like a greek god come to life and you wished you could paint with oil because anything else would be an insult. 

To his credit, he took the drink but didn’t take a sip. Oh well more for you later. You told yourself very firmly you didn’t notice how slender and graceful his hands looked around the mug.  

“You know that doesn’t tell me anything. Why should you care about some rando’s sleep schedule?” you asked, rubbing a thumb along the mug’s rim.

“Anyone else would be dead by now. You don’t even have the sickness, you are choosing to do this.” Morpheus said in a perplexed tone. His mouth almost in a pout and you resisted the urge to reach over and press a thumb on that tempting mouth of his. 

You blinked, taking in his words. Then you gave him a easy shrug, “I need to understand exactly what my patients are going through. Otherwise what use am I?”

“Not going to be much use when sleep deprived or dead.” Morpheus repiled tartly. He sounded just like a frustrated partner or parent. 

You laughed, taking another sip before sitting down in the chair. For some reason, your whole body felt heavy. Like something warm and soft was dragging you down. For a moment, you thought of lovers tangled together in sleep warm blankets and moonlight. 

“I do plan to sleep at some point but…” you frowned, realizing you lost your train of thoughts. They slipped away from you, like sand between fingers. “I…” 

A hand landed on yours, warmed by the coffee and untangled your fingers from the mug’s handle. You made a protesting sound but words failed you. You tried to pull away but your whole body was slumping, giving into the weight. 

Morpheus shushed you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Come along now.” His voice had changed. The timber of it was still rich but now it was lulling. Hypnotic.

“You need to sleep. You are doing good work, it would be a shame if something happens to that mind of yours.”  Morpheus said, guiding you to your bedroom. You shook your head, and slurred out.“Jerk.” 

Morpheus actually chuckled, deep and quiet and you liked that sound way too much. 

You don’t remember falling into your bed. What you did remember was how Morpheus actually pulled up the blanket around your chin, of slim fingers running once though your hair. Your eyes closed but you weren’t sleeping yet. Rather you existed for a moment between the waking world and dream world. Painfully aware of your mind even as you lose hold of your body.

“Sleep, mortal. Your duties await you.” Morpheus said gently. You tried to resist for a little bit longer.

“Will I get to see you again?” You slurred out. You thought you sounded like a child. You wondered if Morpheus would agree. It hasn't been a full hour since you met this being but you already wanted to know his thoughts on this, on everything, on you. 

“Sleep.” He ordered, his rich voice still gentle.

And with a quiet sigh, you gave in, letting the weight pull you under like quicksand.  You thought you felt fingertips against your forehead but you were already too far gone. 

You slept. 

#The sandman #netflix the sandman #morpheus #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x reader

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ ７ － Ｓｔａｒ Ｇａｚｉｎｇ

－ Midnight Rendezvous - 42!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which no one in life understands you, except the boy in the flat across the hall who you sneak out onto the rooftops with every Sunday night.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

“Rough day, huh?” Those three words are how your usual hangouts started. The night air is a bit chilly, complementary of the early spring weather that comes with February. It’s refreshing at least, compared to the week the both of you have had.

“Don’t even get me started,” you drone, pulling the hoodie sleeves over her fingers to keep them from growing cold. The sweater is actually Miles’, one he’d let you borrow on a much colder midnight rendezvous, and you had yet to return.

He sits criss-cross next to you, the ends of his twin french braids moving as he does so. The fluorescent lighting from the streetlights paint his face in a pretty glow, the sounds of police sirens are distant and remind you of the kind of world you live in. Despite it all, however, these little trips to the rooftop with Miles on Sunday evenings give you a sense of serenity.

“Can’t have been worse than mine.” he comments.

“Well,” you say in an exhale, “the entire school is pink and red now for Valentines Day.”

“Shit- I forgot about that,” You go to the same school, so he knows exactly what you're referencing, and he snickers in distaste, wiping down the length of his face, “I’m not looking forward to that tomorrow.”

“Be lucky you didn’t have to help decorate it,” you say, “though I can say confidently that you should expect a lot of secret admirer letters in your locker.”

A little laugh leaves your lips as you watch Miles sink into his seat, hands covering the back of his head as he cowers and pouts; he didn’t want to be reminded of his popularity status amongst the girls at Visions Academy, but you couldn’t not pass up the opportunity to mess with him a little bit.

“I think I might just die, thanks.” he murmurs in defeat. You rest your hand on his back, running soothing circles in between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t get all shy now, playa,” you tease, “you knew it was coming. Now it’s time to face the music!”

“I’d rather face my mom with a slipper on a bad day from the hospital.”

You playfully push the other to the side, laughter filling the air from both of you, because you knew there to be some truth in his statement. You were sure that he would take every loophole possible to avoid the girls he knew had a massive crush on him, and that he’d much prefer his mothers’ snappy attitude than the bombardment of his classmates with heart shaped eyes. “You play too much.”

After he recovers from your playful assault on him, he sees that you’ve turned your attention to the sky above the two of you. “The stars are out tonight.”

There isn’t much to see in a city heavy with light pollution, but the stars are there. Little specks of twinkling lights hung high in the sky to be admired by all; Miles sees why you like them. Its as easy to get lost in the deep blue sky as it is to get lost in you, which he finds himself doing more frequently.

“They’re so pretty,” you say mindlessly, and Miles turns his gaze from the sky onto you. There’s silence for a moment, and you’re so caught up in the stars you have yet to notice how the boy finds you much more prettier in this light.

“Yeah,” he says lowly, almost in a murmur, “sure is.” He then turns back towards the sky, wondering if it’s the sky he should find more prettier than the girl who keeps him company on the rooftops of their apartment building.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#flowersinbloom🏵 #black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #marvel spiderman #spiderman marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman x black!reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #e 42 miles morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

Fuck it Friday

tagged by @folk-fae @eddiediaaz @rewritetheending @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @messyhairdiaz @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @transboybuckley @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz

thank you lovelies! 💖

here is a good chunk from paint sex fic that i wrote in a daze last night and that i am needing validation for asdfggjkll (and uhhh it's not paint sex but i think ya'll are used to that by now)

“I’m gonna need more than that,” Eddie says carefully, tightening his grip on Buck’s hand so he doesn’t slip away, and ducking his head to catch Buck’s nervously wandering eyes. “What exactly has you so upset? Is it–is it me?” He knows he has a tendency to be difficult and obstinate, unwilling to move when he has firmly planted himself somewhere, and that these past few weeks have been filled with him shooting down each suggestion Buck has made. Perhaps he has been too coarse, too self-centered, too focused on his own likes and dislikes, too blinded by the tunnel vision he so easily falls into.  The thought that he has been that way with Buck makes his stomach roll unpleasantly and he can’t fight the grimace that twists at his face, his inner uncomfortable turmoil splashing across his features and leaving a sour taste in the back of his throat. An almost bleak horror stretches over Buck’s expression, making him go pale and nearly gaunt in the dim, wan light that surrounds them. “No. No, Eddie. It’s–It’s us.” Frustration wells up inside Eddie, knocking around his chest like a battering ram and curdling the breath the expels harshly from his nostrils. He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to hold it all back, trying to use the pressure as a way to force down the crackling heat threatening to overtake him, begging to be released so it can consume him entirely until he fades away, nothing but ashes in the wind.  “What exactly does that mean?” he asks. “Because I’m just not getting it. You–Explain it to me, Buck, okay? Stop doing–” he breaks off and shakes his head, gesturing wildly between them with his free hand.  “I’m trying,” Buck grits out. “But–I don’t know. It’s so stupid, but if we can’t agree on this, on something as simple as a paint color, then–what does that mean? Surely that says something about us and I’m terrified of what it is and I’ve been going over and over it in my head, trying to puzzle out why we are so stuck on this, trying to understand why we aren’t on the same page, and I–” Eddie leans forward, the manic and rabid muscle in his chest pulling and tugging and ripping a flesh and bone, leaving him no choice but to get closer to Buck, to the person the animal in him wants more than anything. “Buck, hey, hey. Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispers, burying his reverence thirty feet deep and flinging it six stories high, passing it along to Buck in the hopes that the fragile, world-wrecking emotion will touch him in any way possible, eagerly traveling from Eddie's mouth and skin as he taps Buck’s chin and brushes the tip of his thumb against his bottom lip which had begun to tremble as Buck spoke.

tagging: @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @try-set-me-on-fire @anxieteandbiscuits @captain-hen @lover-of-mine @housewifebuck @diazass @bigfootsmom @cowboy-buck @bucks118 @butchdiaz @transbuck @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley and anyone else who wants to share!

#really need to come up with a title for this bc idk if i can keep calling it paint sex fic asdfgghkl #buddie #buddie wip #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #911 #buddie fic #911 fic #ryan writes #fuck it friday #paint sex fic

[emlovslennon]

me when i actually feel motivated to write again😃😃BUT YEAAAAH HERES SOME MORE SIN FOR YOU GUYS YOURE WELCOME!!

Era: 1964

-

You and John were at the opening for his new book “In His Own Write”, you were over the moon excited for him, but, problem was, he was hardly paying attention to you. He was laughing it up with Paul and whoever else was there with him, George obviously noticed something was up when he tapped you on your arm, which made you jump.

“Hey, y/n, you doing alright?” He asked, genuine concern painted on his face. You couldn’t help but feel gratitude that you had someone like George in your life, he was a great friend and always knew how to comfort you, even when John didn’t.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine, I guess I just feel quite bare sitting here with no one to talk to.” You said, turning to look at John, who wouldn’t even bother to look and see if you’re even still here.

“Well, I’m here, and so is Pattie, if you wanna talk and come over to us.” He offered, Pattie giving you a very warm smile and hand shake. Pattie’s beauty always baffled you, you have never seen somebody so naturally gorgeous as her, it made you feel quite insecure, really. But you obviously knew that wasn’t on her, might be more on John, actually, he’d always talk about blonde bombshells like Bridget Bardot or very dark feminine women like Sophia Loren, it always made you feel less than.

“Goodness, y/n, you look absolutely marvelous! He doesn’t know what he’s missing, I can tell you that for sure.” Pattie said, you decided to wear your favorite black, lace dress with a black shaw to match, you did feel iffy about knowing how tight it was, but you couldn’t help but feel pretty, that on top of the beautiful sparkling, white, necklace you had on as well John had bought you for your second wedding anniversary gift. If only he actually would pay attention to you, it’d be nice.

“I just don’t understand why he’s not even acknowledging me, as soon as we got here he went right over to Paul, letting go of my hand in an instant.” You said, trying not to let this ruin your night. You understood that it was ‘his’ night per say, but you at least deserved some sort of acknowledgment, right?

“Oh, y/n, I know just the trick. This worked perfectly the last time I did it with an ex of mine, just simply, do the same. Enjoy your night and don’t even bother with him, this is your night just as much as his.” Pattie said cheerfully, she always was the one to give the best pep talks. And just that you did, spending the rest of the party talking and hanging out with George and Pattie, and occasionally Ringo and Maureen.

And then, the after party came along, it had to have been around 12:00 or more in the morning, but nobody was letting up. You and Pattie decided to have a few drinks and start dancing to, surprisingly, your husbands music. “Twist and Shout” started to blare and you and Pattie started to do exactly that, dancing the night away. George and Pattie were dancing together gleefully and getting you involved whenever they could. That was, until Paul walked over to you, him and Jane were on a “break” so he said. So he all by himself, explains why he was with John and Brian basically the whole night.

“Hey, love! Where have you been? Me and John have been looking everywhere for you!” He said, practically yelling over the loud music.

“Oh, I was with George and Pattie, what’s wrong?” You said, John coming up behind Paul shortly after.

“Nothin-“ Paul was quickly shut down by John as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“Fuck, love, you had me so worried, I thought you left without me, come on, we’re going home.” He said, as you basically pushed through a crowd of people and got into your car.

“John, why are we leaving? What is wrong?” You asked, John didn’t say a word. One hand was on the wheel, the other was clutched to your thigh. You had absolutely no idea what his deal was.

“John, if I made you mad I’m sorry but it just felt like you weren’t paying att-“

“As soon as we get inside that house I want you upstairs and ready for me. I couldn’t be around you because of that fucking dress, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Go on, now.” He demanded. You made sure as soon as he parked into the driveway you ran inside the house and went into your shared bedroom, quickly taking off your shaw and dress, along with your Mary Jane heels. You then made your way to your white, satin bed and slowly got underneath the sheets, waiting for him. Your heart race increased in anticipation as you heard him up the stairs, and heard the bedroom door open. And there stood John, his blazer gone to god knows where and his white button up unbuttoned. You couldn’t have asked for a better sight, if you’re gonna be honest, this is probably the best way to be repaid after being ignored the entire night.

“Come on, now, don’t start hiding from me.” He said as he quickly ripped the covers off your body, being completely exposed.

“There’s my pretty girl.” He cooed, making you blush. He was always a sweetheart when he wanted to be.

“John, I-“ you began to speak, but your mouth shut out of complete embarrassment. You were extremely nervous when it came to asking for what you want in bed.

“Hm? What was that, doll? You want something? What do you want, hm?” He teased, his fingers caressing your thighs, you knew you had to just let it out, but it was so hard for you and never understood why.

“I-um, I want you to turn me around this time.” You whispered, John gave a devious grin and took no time flipping you over, getting you on your hands and knees.

“Like this, birdie? You want me to be a little rough with you, dolly? Huh?” He said as he gave a harsh slap to your ass, making you gasp and jump in surprise. John giggled darkly at your reaction and began to un-do his pants, until he was completely naked.

“I’ve thought about you like this, y/n. You being all obedient for me, I love it. You’re such a good girl for me, a fucking dirty girl too.” He was such a good dirty talker, it made you begin to whimper and try to get any kind of friction you could get. John started to get the memo and didn’t even spend time to get you prepared by any sort of foreplay and just began to thrust himself inside you, not giving no time to adjust.

“AH, John!” You screamed as he pounded into you, his hand immediately coming to yank at your hair.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, cunts so fucking tight for me.” He grunted, his voice deeper then ever. It turned you on like never before, how just an hour ago you were being completely neglected by him and now, here you are, getting pounded into the mattress by your husband. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t worth it.

“J-john, w-wait! Slow down!” You cried out, John immediately stopped and pulled out.

“What, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He panted, you shook your head and turned to lay on your back.

“I guess I just missed seeing your face.” You said, out of breath and voice strained from moaning and yelling.

“Ahh, atta girl.” He replied as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss as he thrusts back into, slower this time, just in case.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n, can’t imagine life without you.” He praised, as he kissed your face and neck, you smiled as you sighed happily, but not before turning into soft moans as he began to slowly pick up his pace.

“John, f-faster, I want to go faster, please.” You moaned out as John began to go harder, the obscene noises coming from your core filling the room.

“I love the sounds you make, christ, all fucking mine.” He groans, going as fast as he can at this point. Sweat is beginning to form on his forehead and body, same with you, as you continued to moan and cry out for him.

“John, I-I-“ you screamed out as you came all over him without warning, John just gave you a heartfelt smile and kissed your forehead.

“Fuck, I’m so close, I’m gonna fucking cum.” He moans out, you felt so overstimulated but you just couldn’t complain as long as you were making him feel good.

After about two more thrusts, he comes inside of you with a loud groan. He pulls out slowly and goes to grab towels for you to clean you up.

“There you are.” He chuckles as puts the towels in the wash and comes back to lay down with you as you slowly return to reality.

“John, I love you. But, do you promise you love me just as much as I love you?” You whisper, John kisses your lips and head in response.

“Y/n, I can promise you I have never loved anyone as much as I love you, it’ll stay that away. I can promise you that. I love you.” He assures, that was all you needed to drift you off into a deep, loving sleep.

-

OKAYYYY WOOOOO THERES A LONG ONE FOR ONCE WHOOP WHOOP I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED I HAD FUN WRITING THIS ONE I HOPE MY “SPICE” HAS IMPROVED!!!

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #john lennon x reader #the beatles x reader #60s #john lennon smut #the beatles smut

[ryukatters]

lil nsfw here but bf!armin is definitely type of guy who leaves bite marks all over ur body especially ur ass and acts surprised when you finally noticed them lmfao (i’ve this has been in my head rent free)

He’s SOOOO— 😭

Armin is known to be calm and collected most of the time, and he thinks he manages his emotions pretty well. Whenever he’s around you, however, he’s overwhelmed with emotions and it makes him mad lmfao. He just feels so much for you that it drives him just a little insane. And he’s usually so good with words, but you just have a way of frying his brain and making him speechless. So forgive him he’s just trying to get back at you :/ 

You have a grip on him and he tries so hard not to let you know that in fear of inflating your ego lmfao

You tend to get caught up in the heat of the moment, so you don’t even notice (or mind, at the time at least) when he bites you.

If Armin has anything, it’s the audacity to act surprised when you barge into his room berating him about leaving marks for everyone to see. 

“Armin,” you start, voice tight. 

“Yes, love?” he says, voice dripping with honey.

You grit your teeth. Maybe Armin can manage to deceive others with his sweet and innocent facade, but you can see right through his bullshit. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he had two red horns poking through his blond locks. 

“‘Yes, love?’“ you do an awful impersonation, lowering your voice to mimic his. “Don’t act innocent with me, Arlert. You know what you did.”

Armin has the gall to raise his eyebrows in surprise, mouth gaping to form a little ‘o’. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific, honey,” he tuts, “‘cuz I’m kind of lost here.”

You have to resist the urge to walk on right up to him, grab him by the shoulders and rattle him until his eyes cross. You opt to take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“You know,” you start, “I was having a really great day. I checked the weather, saw it was gonna be warm, so I decided to dress cute and wear shorts. Got out and got coffee— ran into Sasha and Mikasa on the way.” Your feet pad across the jute rug in Armin’s room that was always kept impeccably clean— just another reason to add on to your annoyance. You stop just a few steps shy of your boyfriend who’s sitting comfortably on his bed.  “They asked me to get lunch, so we met up with Connie and Eren. Everything’s all good, right?”

“Sure,” Armin says lightly. 

You feel your eye twitch involuntarily. Did he not understand the problem here? “Yeah, well it was,” you snap. “Until I decided to get up to use the restroom, and Eren points out that I have a bunch of fucking hickeys up my shorts!!”

His expression is unreadable, and for once, your boyfriend has nothing to say.

“So I’ve been walking around campus with these things on display for half of the day,” stretching your leg out and flexing it to show him the small bruises that litter the inside of your thighs,  “and it’s. all. your. fault.”

“Love, I’m sorry—” he tries. In all reality, Armin stopped paying attention the moment you bursted into his room. The fire in your eyes from your passionate tirade both scared him and turned him on at the same time.  He knew what he was signing up for last night, and he knew exactly how this entire thing would play out. He’s calculated every single possible variation of this event, with no room for error. 

And now, with the way you practically have yourself on display, exhibiting the vast array of purple and red hues he’s painted in between your thighs— it has his mind growing hazy. He catches himself, tries to snap himself back to reality, but alas. The grip you have on him is like a vice— impossible to escape. He feels the heat rise up the nape of his neck; he can’t tell if it’s because he’s annoyed with how easily you turn him on or the fact that he is very much turned on right now. Either way, he feels the need to make you pay for your transgressions. 

“Sorry? I embarrass myself for half of the town to see and all you have to say is sorry?” 

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to where he’s sitting at the edge of his bed, in between his legs. He squeezes you, cheek resting against your tummy. He’s lucky that you’re unable to see the grin that slowly forms on his face. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“I really am sorry, love.” Armin places a chaste kiss right above your navel, and he can feel you stiffen, almost like you know what’s about to happen. How adorable. He wraps his arms even tighter around you, just to make sure you can’t leave. He looks up at you, blue eyes wide and innocent— and you almost want to believe he actually is sorry for the whole incident. 

His hands snake from around your waist and make quick work at the button on your shorts, “So let me make it up to you, yeah?”

#he is a menace #why do you think him and eren are friends? #he's just as bad if not worse #at least eren is honest about being possessive #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin smut #armin arlert x reader #aot smut #armin.post