#i'm still going to be lurking around every once in a while and i'm on twitter @sillyhappyperson

[juliettejwnewinesa]

I really don't understand what I'm happening with the whole situation (just something about ai), and I've been reading you fanfics for a while now (and I've been eating them up, theyre scrumptious and yummy), and never once have I thought they were ai. You can see it in writing structure(?) And the way you write, it feels human. And there is nothing wrong with using grammarly cause we all do.

Anyway, I'm so sorry for your hate, but if it's not much trouble, can you make a fanfic about childhood best friend!reader x Han Su-gang who is older than her by 2 years. She left town, sugang was devastated, and she came back and transferred for her last year.

He makes himself known by lingering around her for a long while (in the halls, brief touching, just tormenting her), wondering if she remembered him. things have been quiet, and no one tells her the incidents. She simps over Han su-gang about how handsome he is to her friends (she's a bunble Ray of sunshine and naive so they tell her nothing) and how adorable their children will be and all that like a middle schooler. It's like pure and adorable saying they'll have 3 kids, 2 boys and 1 girl, and have 5 cats (being dululu), and he hears about this and decided to give her a good time!(smut)

Anyway, please and thank you and take care of yourself (so sorry that this is long💔)

hey babeee thx for the request sorry for the delay btw 😘

Title: Guess You Grew Up Pairing: Han Su-gang x naive!sunshine!childhoodbestfriend!Fem!Reader Rating: 🔞 MDNI Tags: childhood best friends to something else, naive reader, light corruption, possessive Su-gang, unaware reader, fluffy smut, oral (f receiving), size kink, breeding talk (delulu style), soft and dark tension

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Han Su-gang never forgot you.

You were the only bright thing in his life back then. Messy pigtails, scraped knees, and that ridiculous laugh. You were the first person who held his hand without flinching. Who told him he was your “favorite person in the world.”

Then one day, you were just… gone. Moved away. No goodbye.

It haunted him. For years.

And then—just like that—you were back.

You transferred in mid-term, your backpack bouncing, your voice still sweet and chirpy as you introduced yourself with a wide smile to a classroom full of half-dead teenagers. “I used to live here when I was little! It’s so good to be back!”

Su-gang leaned back in his chair, staring at you from the back row, jaw tight.

You’d grown. Legs longer. Hair shinier. Same fucking smile.

But you didn’t even look at him.

Did you forget him?

He watched. Waited.

And when the bell rang, you skipped right past him like you didn’t even notice the boy who used to protect you from bullies.

He almost laughed.

You started following him with your eyes first.

He could feel it when he walked down the hallway, his hands in his pockets, and you’d pause mid-conversation, glancing up at him like a little lost puppy.

Then came the whispers. The blushing.

“He’s so pretty, right?” you said to your friends one day in the bathroom, unaware he was around the corner. “Like, dangerously hot. Oh my god. I want him to kiss me and then ignore me for a week so I can cry about it like in a drama.”

Your friends stared at you in horror.

You just kept going. “If I married him, our kids would be gorgeous. We’d have, like… three. Two boys, one girl. And five cats! Or maybe seven. He looks like a cat dad, don’t you think?”

Su-gang bit his lip to keep from laughing.

You really hadn’t changed at all.

He started showing up more.

Behind you in the hallway. Lurking near your locker. Sitting near you in the cafeteria. His knuckles would brush yours when you passed. His shoulder would graze yours in class.

It drove you crazy.

You kept stealing glances, your brain turning into fluff every time he licked his lips or leaned against the wall like a walking daydream.

One day, after your “dream wedding fantasy” rant, Su-gang finally snapped.

He cornered you after school, pulling you into a supply room and shutting the door with a soft click.

You gasped, back hitting the shelf.

“Han—Han Su-gang?!”

He stared down at you, silent.

Your heart thumped. “Are you—um, are you lost?”

He stepped closer. "You really don’t remember me?"

You blinked up at him. “Huh?”

“I used to walk you home. You made me hold your stupid Hello Kitty umbrella.”

Your mouth fell open. “…Sooie?”

He groaned. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh my god—Han Sooie!” You laughed, teary-eyed, and then threw your arms around him. “I missed you! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“I was waiting,” he muttered into your hair, his arms tightening. “Wanted to see if you remembered. You didn’t.”

“I do now!” you pouted. “You got hot. That threw me off.”

He pulled back and looked down at you, his gaze dark. “You really think I’m hot?”

You nodded without thinking. “Like… really hot. In a ‘ruin me’ kind of way.”

“…You shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I will.”

He kissed you hard, like he’d been holding it in for years.

Your lips parted in surprise, and Su-gang took full advantage, sliding his tongue into your mouth, one hand cupping your cheek while the other settled low on your waist.

You melted into him instantly.

“I should make you pay for forgetting me,” he murmured against your lips.

“S-Su-gang…”

“You say I’m hot? Say you want kids? Say stupid little things about marrying me?” He kissed down your neck, biting gently. “You think I wouldn’t hear that?”

You whimpered. “You heard that?!”

He chuckled darkly. “You’re not subtle.”

His hand slipped under your skirt. Fingers finding you embarrassingly wet already.

“Oh my god—”

“You this wet just from seeing me around, sunshine?”

You nodded, dazed. “You always look so good. I—I just thought about it a lot.”

“You want me to give you a good time, yeah?” he whispered, fingers stroking your clit slowly. “Since you dream about it so much.”

You whined and nodded again.

He kissed you breathless as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them slow and deep. His other hand moved to your chest, pulling down your top just enough to mouth at your nipple, sucking lightly.

Your legs shook.

“Please—please, Su-gang…”

“Shh. Let me take care of you, sunshine.” He dropped to his knees, pushing your skirt up.

“Wait—w-we’re still at school—”

“Then be quiet,” he smirked, before licking a thick stripe up your pussy, making your knees nearly buckle.

He ate you like he was starved. Like he owned you.

You were already close—years of fantasy finally crashing into reality.

“S-Su-gang, I’m—”

“Go ahead,” he murmured, fingers tightening on your thighs. “Cum for me. Then maybe I’ll fuck you for real and give you those kids you keep talking about.”

You cried out, biting your fist as you came hard, hips grinding against his mouth.

When he stood again, your legs were trembling, and he kissed you soft this time.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “Got it?”

You nodded, dizzy, breathless, ruined.

“Good girl.”

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: basically just two bookworms arguing about books and having a s3x right after

𝐚/𝐧: please read the note! so it's only a very short part of my upcoming fanfiction that has...25k words...i'm aware no one is going to read it all soo i'm publishing one of my favorite parts.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

Maybe it was that one drink you had, but your legs seemed to take you in a certain direction.

You weren’t sure if Spencer was even home. But if you had nothing else to do, why not check? A short walk. You were a little desperate, after all, you didn’t have anywhere else to go. That’s how you justified it. You were going to him because you had no other option.

He opened the door, dressed in a wrinkled shirt, trousers, and a tie loosely hanging around his neck. His hair was in disarray, and you felt an urge to run your fingers through it and style it the way you wanted, but it would’ve been awkward.

"Hey. Am I interrupting?"

Surprised, Spencer shook his head.

"No... Actually, I was asleep."

"In those clothes?"

"I fell asleep while reading..." he explained, trailing off when he noticed your appearance. To put it modestly, you looked incredibly hot. For a long moment, his gaze lingered on your dress, visible beneath the open jacket and ending high on your thigh. "Very... nice dress. Is it... is it your mom's too?"

You chuckled.

"Can you imagine my mom, a school psychologist, in a dress covering half her ass?"

Embarrassed, Spencer raised his hands in apology and also chuckled softly.

"Sorry, I'm still half-asleep. Anyway... is there something wrong that you're here?"

"My mentally unstable ex-boyfriend of my roommate is lurking under our apartment.” You confessed bluntly “I'm a little scared to go back, and... I didn't know where else I could go."

It seemed like he was suddenly waking up quickly. He swung the door wide open, letting you in.

"Of course, come in. Is he dangerous?"

"He shows up every now and then and then disappears. It's like a lottery. Jude doesn't want to ever see him again, so we just pretend we're not here when it happens."

The inside looked just as you remembered. The lights were off everywhere except the bedroom, where he was probably reading. You allowed yourself to take off your uncomfortable shoes and set them by the door.

"Why don't you report it to the police?" His forehead furrowed with concern.

"Jude doesn't want to. And I don't want to do anything against her will. But I swear, if this happens again, I'll convince her. Or I'll do it myself."

"You should," he said, and suddenly a silence fell between you.

You weren't sure how to act. You'd barged in on him in the middle of the night, pulling him from his sleep. Not to mention, you hadn't seen each other since that conversation at the bar.

"Let me take your jacket," he said after a moment, as if remembering how to behave when hosting a guest.

You slowly took it off, revealing the full dress. Spencer momentarily let his gaze linger on it, but then he caught himself and turned away to hang your jacket. The glance didn't embarrass you in the slightest; if anything, you expected to catch him looking.

"Sorry if I woke you," you said, realizing you should probably apologize. It was only then that you began to feel a little awkward about the situation.

"You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault. And I'm glad I can help," he said, and once again, silence settled between you. Spencer placed his hand on his forehead as he realized you were still standing in the hallway. "Sorry, it's been a long time since anyone's visited, and I don't even know how to act... Do you want something to drink, or need anything?"

"I’m fine," you assured him, walking behind him into the living room. "I don't want you to act like I'm some important guest, Spencer. Or like you need to serve me."

"But you are an important guest," he replied.

A warm, gentle smile appeared on your lips.

"What were you reading?" you asked, leaning your lower back against the kitchen island, the two rooms connected as one. You glanced around the cozy interior, in soft, almost warm hues, where the darkness of the night blended with the orange light of the lamp. "Let me guess, some spine-chilling thriller?"

"I have spine-chilling thrillers every day at work," he snorted. "I was reading... Emma. Jane Austen."

Your eyebrows shot up.

"You fell asleep reading classic literature on a Friday night? Spencer Reid, what kind of man are you?"

"In a good way or a bad way?"

He stood across from you, his arms loosely crossed over his chest. Your eyes lingered on the first few undone buttons of his shirt.

"Of course, in a good way. Why would I judge someone for reading?"

"I don’t know," he shrugged. "Some people think it’s boring. And weird, especially on a Friday night. And what about you? What were you doing before your roommate’s ex showed up?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he nodded meaningfully toward your outfit. "Were you reading too?"

You lifted your chin high.

"Exactly. I was reading my favorite Shakespearean drama in my favorite dress. And those incredibly comfortable shoes I left by your door."

"That goes without saying."

"I definitely wasn’t at any club."

"I wouldn’t even suspect you of that."

"I was doing what any God-fearing virgin would do," you said, bursting into laughter at the absurdity. "Alright, alright. I’m getting carried away. Now I actually feel like reading something. But nothing too classic—I don’t have the brainpower for it. Do you happen to have any romance novels?"

I'm afraid not."

"Really? You have more books in your home than the library in my hometown, and not a single romance? I’m not talking about dark erotica or anything—just something subtle. Friends to lovers, polite sex..."

Spencer choked on a laugh.

"Sorry, but are you drunk?"

You were just horny. 

"Not a drop of alcohol has touched my lips. I'm just hyperactive. That’s what the night does to me."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"So? Aren't you hiding any sinful books in there?"

He rolled his eyes, clearly amused rather than annoyed by your persistence.

"You're welcome to look," he offered, gesturing toward one of the shelves. "But I’m not promising you’ll find anything like that."

"But if I do, you owe me a drink."

“And if it turns out I’m right, then what?”

You bit your lip, pondering. 

“I’ll figure something out.”

“You know, I won’t enter a bet unless I know what I get in return.”

“And what do you want?”

“A dinner together,” he replied without hesitation. “Or breakfast, if you prefer.”

“Deal,” you answered just as quickly. You weren’t worried about regretting it—your blood was buzzing too much for that.

He extended his hand for you to shake on it, sealing the deal. Instead of letting go, you held onto his fingers firmly and tugged him toward the bookshelf. He stood so close as you examined the books one by one, taking some out to inspect their covers to see if they suggested any hint of romance. When they didn’t, he let out a short laugh, his breath brushing against your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t let it show.

“Spencer…” you started after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “It counts if the book has a romantic subplot, right?”

“No, it doesn’t count! We agreed on a romance. A full-fledged, contemporary one.”

“We didn’t say contemporary.”

“I assumed it was implied since I mentioned owning Jane Austen books. Pride and Prejudice is a romance, among other things…”

“Ha! So you do have one. I won!” You raised your hands high in victory.

“…But it’s also a social and domestic novel. Doesn’t count.”

You poked him in the chest with your finger.

“You don’t know how to lose.”

He glanced at the spot where you touched him, clearly trying not to smile.

“Maybe I just care a lot about that dinner,” he admitted boldly.

You didn’t know what to say. You tried to look at him confidently, but it was hard to think and maintain eye contact with him at the same time.

“Or breakfast,” you murmured.

“Or breakfast,” he agreed. Realizing how close he was standing, he instinctively stepped back half a pace. “So, are you ready to admit my victory?”

You shot him a defiant look.

“Not a chance. I haven’t even checked all the books yet. I’m only about three-quarters through. Who knows what kind of BDSM might be lurking in the last quarter?”

“Seriously?” he asked with a sigh. “Okay, just look at me. Do I seem like the kind of guy who reads stuff like that?”

“Honestly, you look like the kind of guy who reads encyclopedias. But the one thing I know about people is that appearances can be deceiving. Still waters run deep.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re as stubborn as they come.”

“Maybe I just really want that drink,” you teased.

“I can make you one,” he offered unexpectedly.

“Seriously?” The suggestion caught you off guard.

Spencer shrugged casually.

“I don’t drink much, but some friends gave me a few bottles for my birthday.”

You hesitated, considering.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you admitted. You felt good, even without alcohol. “But I do have another request… Do you happen to have something I could change into? I won’t lie, this isn’t the most comfortable dress… though it’s absolutely stunning.”

He smiled softly.

"You’re right. And yes, I’ll find something for you to change into. Just… it’ll be something of mine."

Following him into the bedroom, you let out a small chuckle.

"You know, I didn’t expect you to have a closet full of women’s clothes. Plus, in my size. Although, who knows what girls leave behind at your place. It’s a tactic, you know? You leave a sock at a guy’s place to have an excuse to come back. Unless you didn’t like it, then you have to accept losing the sock."

He didn’t say anything, opening the wardrobe to find something appropriate for you. You’d been in his bedroom before and didn’t feel the need to look around; nothing had changed inside.

"Do you do this often?" he asked, inspecting a t-shirt. "Use the sock strategy?"

"No," you replied, shrugging. "I’m too straightforward for that. If I like it, I just go back and say 'Let’s do it again' Or I don’t leave at all. I’m a bit of a parasite too."

He chuckled at the comparison and finally handed you some clothes. You didn’t really look at them; you just needed something looser, something you hadn’t danced in for hours at the club.

"You know where the bathroom is, right?"

You confirmed and were about to head in that direction when you stopped.

"Wait," you said, turning back toward him. But then, you turned again, facing him with your back. "The zipper on the dress," you explained, pulling your hair to the front. "I could manage it myself, but I don’t want to risk breaking it. Could you…?"

"Y-yeah," he agreed after a moment, stepping closer.

He stood just behind you, reaching for the top of your back. Before he pulled the zipper down, there was a moment where he simply paused, unmoving. Your knees suddenly trembled, almost impatiently. Then, he tugged at the zipper, unfastening the dress, and the coolness and freedom teased your skin.

You could have said thank you and headed to the bathroom, but you didn’t. Something kept your body rooted in place, right there next to him, feeling the pads of his fingers on the lower part of your dress.

Even his breath, louder and irregular.

When you began to, slightly disappointed, assume that he wouldn’t do anything more, his lips found a spot on your neck, kissing it slowly. You inhaled deeply, your head instinctively tilting back, giving him more access, as if you had been waiting for just that.  He stopped for a longer time in this specific place, pressing on it harder, as you barely hold a groan. 

Your breath was given a free rollercoaster ride.

You reached your hand back, wrapping it around his head and pulling him closer to you. You felt him sigh directly into your skin, leaving another two hungry kisses on an exposed skin on your shoulder. God, why were you still wearing that dress?

You abruptly stopped, turning around and almost hitting the top of your head against his jaw. You didn't care about it, and the thought of apologizing never crossed your mind, just simply pushed him, planting a strong kiss right on his lips.

The clothes he gave you slipped from your hand and fell to the floor, but neither of you were concerned about it, as you were both too absorbed to care. You pushed him again, this time onto the bed, on which he sat, surprised by your suddenness. You saw red marks creeping onto the parts of the neck exposed by the undone shirt. 

"Spencer, Spencer, Spencer," you said, shaking your head in a mock reprimand. He tilted his head to the side, unsure of where you were going with this, his fingers impatiently brushing your waist on both sides. "You lied to me."

Your hands grabbed his face, positioning just under his jaw and lifting it upward so you could find his lips right against yours. 

“I lied to you?”

"“That's right. You said you don't read romances. But tell me, how does someone who doesn't do that know such practices?”

“Practices?” he repeated again, surprised."

His gaze was focused solely on your lips to which he tried to get closer, but you hadn't allowed him to yet. 

"This whole unbuttoning of the dress. And then, the neck”

With your index finger, you traced along the skin on his neck

“Did you like it?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. He removed one hand from your waist and took your hand, the one you had been playing with.

“Did I like it?” you scoffed with a genuine laugh.“I’m like half naked now. Answer that for yourself”

Undressing was the element you hated the most. You became impatient and couldn't understand why your clothes couldn't just disappear from you, instead of threatening to burn your already overheated skin. Spencer didn't help, so slow in his movements. You had a feeling he was doing it on purpose. He probably enjoyed watching you struggle to untangle yourself from the dress. He waited a minute before helping you, effortlessly pulling it over your head.

Maybe slow wasn't the most accurate description.The way he touched his body wasn’t slow. It was like rationing a treat, breaking it into small pieces and savoring them one by one. Meanwhile, it gazed straight into your mouth, shouting, eat me!

It required incredible self-control and composure, but it resulted in something more than just pleasure. When he found himself right between your legs, his lips touching gently every single inch of your thigh and refusing to go further despite your pleas, you compared him to the previous guys you slept with. With them, on the other hand, you had to tell them to slow down, to do everything more carefully, and not to focus solely on their own needs.

“Does it feel right?” He asked, briefly lifting his gaze, his hands gripping your thighs.

Your back arched, probably enough of an answer, but you confirmed it with a soft moan.

"I'd rather you said it out loud. Does it feel right?"

"That's edging on sadism, do you realize that?" you whimpered, trying to release the tension by pulling at his hair.

He stopped again.

"Please, do it again."

It wasn't something he had to beg for.

The rest went similarly. You liked how his confidence and courage grew, but you also went wild when, at certain moments, the same gentle and sometimes awkward Spencer returned. It was a perfectly balanced mix.

"Can you talk to me more?" he asked over time, once he was already inside you. "I want to know how you feel about all of this." After those words, your forehead twitched slightly as you felt the onset of pain. "Does it hurt?"

"No," you whispered, accompanied by a faintly tired exhale.”A little. But it's normal I just didn't have sex for a while”

"No, it shouldn't hurt you. Do you want to stop?"

"Just... give me a moment."

He slowed down, almost stopping. You took a breath,pressing your forehead to his. You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you in a hurry. After all, where to? Outside, the night still reigned, long and patient, winter’s grip holding steady. You liked having his face so close to yours, joining them together and not speaking. For the first time, you could truly say that you enjoyed the silence.

You had always considered silence overwhelming, incapable of calming the chaos that arose in your mind. You preferred moments of wildness, loud sounds, and fast pace, but it was in that silence, which fell then, that you found a peace filled with intimacy.

You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

"It's okay, I'm ready."

After everything, you simply lay facing each other, tangled in one another. Actually, you didn’t like that expression "after everything." After everything—after what exactly? Sex wasn’t just about the physical act; it also included the long moment before and the even more significant one after. It was precisely that moment after which revealed the true you both. How much you cared for each other and how much you meant to each other beyond the bed. That was often missing in one-night stands; the perspective of quickly disappearing from each other's lives and being forgotten somehow intensified selfishness in people.

Lying there, you played with the hair on his forehead.

"You know, they say this is the moment when people are the most honest with each other."

"Do you want to squeeze a few secrets out of me?" he asked.

"Just one," you said mysteriously, turning onto your back. Before that, you noticed his eyebrows furrow.

He propped himself up on his elbow to look at you again.

"Which one?"

You pretended to hesitate before answering. You tried with all your might to keep the smile from appearing on your face, betraying you.

"I'm afraid that even now, you won't be honest with me."

"I'm starting to get worried."

"I'll tell you, but you have to promise to tell the truth. Give me your pinky."

"What?"

"A pinky promise, you fool."

“O-okay” 

Clearly surprised, he did what you asked.

"Now tell me the truth. You got any romance books at your place you're too embarrassed to admit to?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I'll find them," you teased. "I’ll get up right now and find them."

You pretended to get up, but he pulled you closer, preventing you from moving.

"You're not going anywhere."

i know some of you were curious about this fanfiction, so I'm tagging it.

@nightfullofparadox @bloodredrubyrose @lillaberry @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[littleapplle]

let's make this bed get squeaky!

after an unexpected wanderer attack, you show rafayel how fun it is to be a girl. - 2.9k w. - not proofread.

cw.: fem!rafayel, very implied fem!reader (srry!!) feminization (if you squint), raf isn't a woman but does get turned into one temporarily, porn with a bit of plot, nipple play, worshipping (if you squint), face sitting, so cunnilingus, 69, scissoring? humping... something in between idk... kinda subby raf too... self indulgence. alot of that. i'm the pervert here.

note: this was vv inspired by this art by @.beechu-beechu !! one of my fav artists here on tumblr and twt, pls check their work out!! <3 as soon as i saw fem!raf my brain MELTED. also this was a bit rushed, sorryyy !!><

“Love, you don’t have to freak out! The Hunter Association will find a way to revert it in no time. Relax!” — To be honest, you were too calm about it.

“Relax!? How am i supposed to- Oh, my bodyguard failed to save me from this catastrophe and now i have to pay the price with my beautiful body!” Rafayel cries in response, his voice far too dramatic and feminine.

And what has really happened? Well, a few hours ago. you and your boyfriend went out for an outdoor date in the middle of a small forest in Linkon City so Rafayel could, maybe, find inspiration for his next work.

It just so happened that the area you both decided to visit was a dead zone, your hunter watch was malfunctioning and did not warn you the area had wanderers nearby. Luckily, you were still in your hunter uniform and armed so it should be no biggie. The wanderer, a small creature you’ve never seen in any of your missions, had its back covered in pinkish spores that once Rafayel shouted out for you, exploded on his face, making him cough for air.

Wanderer defeated and your lover safe, you’re left with an… unique form of Rafayel.

“...Rafayel?” You call out for him cautiously, worried for his safety while waving your way through a cloud of pink dust.

To a few choked coughs, your ears perk. You’re alone with Rafayel but it’s not his voice you hear. Or so you thought.

The mist slowly dissipates in the air, and you’re finally able to see more than just the shape of his body choking for air dramatically. With narrowed eyes and a hand covering your mouth and nose – still concerned the mysterious dust is toxic – you call out his name once more before a gasp escapes your throat.

“Rafayel…? Wha- what is wrong with you?!” Comes out a little too harsh but your shock is genuine. Was this caused by the wanderer? Offended, he is quick to frown and bite back. “Wow cutie, i get seriously attacked and the first thing you ask me is that? What a great bodyguard i have! How can i file a complaint?” 

“That’s not what i meant!-” You stutter, “Uhm…” struggling with your words and confusion bubbling in your system, you move your hands to your boobs, trying to move his gaze down to his chest. Oh. Oh. His blouse did feel a bit tighter after all.

“What the fuck?!” 

Yeah… you’re sure that he spooked every single animal in the little forest with his scream.

Back to the present, you find yourself back in Rafayel’s home, trying to convince your boyfriend that being transformed into a woman by a wanderer isn’t the end of the world and that yes, it is temporary. 

“Raf, you’re gonna be fine. I heard Tara say something about a new type of wanderer lurking around earlier this week. We’re gonna find a way to turn you back, m’kay? You assure with more confidence now that your confusion over the situation has dissipated completely.

To your words he — she — does not answer, too busy sulking while staring at his new face in the pocket mirror you carry in your bag. 

“Besides… you’re quite the pretty girl, raf.” The sweet giggle that escapes your lips makes him frown.

 “Can you quit bullying me? Those cheap journalists are never going to shut up if they see me like this!” Rafayel cries. “I wanted to have a nice day out with you. ow… can’t have a single normal day in this city.”

That makes your ears perk and your body scoots closer to his form on the couch. You rest your head on his shoulder after kissing his puffy cheek. “Aww! ‘S no biggie, baby. We can still have fun indoors. I’ll just have to show you how fun it is to be a girl.”

You spend the day doing things you’d already do with him while enjoying quality time together but with some additional goodies. His purple hair is so long now and even softer! You take your time brushing it, massaging your nails on the scalp before trying multiple hairstyles.

Pigtails, buns, fishtail braids, boxer braids, ponytails… oh, you’ve tried every. single. one. Which he can’t really complain about! Who doesn’t love having their hair played with?

Rafayel is already used to the next activity, so he doesn’t even bat an eye when you ask him where he placed the nail polishes you bought a few months ago. 

“Pick a color baby!” You chirp, holding the tiny bottles in your hands. 

He does just that. Picking a lilac shade and offering his cold hands to you, Rafayel scoots closer to you on the couch. “You’re enjoying this too much.” He points out.

For a moment, you don’t answer, busy with the tiny brush between your fingers and trying not to smudge the milky paint in his short nails. “Hmmm maybe i am.” You giggle, “Can you blame me though?” 

It’s his turn to not answer, he thinks he’d sound too petty if he did. Rafayel loves the pampering, and even though he’d rather drown in the deepest and darkest waters of his long forgotten home than to admit this right now, he’s obsessed with you showering him in affection. Nothing is new, you’re sweet as ever and like a sea sponge, he absorbs all he can happily. 

Rafayel isn’t an insecure man, especially with his body. He knows he was sculpted by the seas with care and passion, born with the body of a god, something worthy of unending worship. So you eyeing him up and down was never a problem, but now? Oh, he feels small, he wants to dig up a hole on the hot sand and stay there for eternity, accompanied by the sand crabs.

Shame is a feeling he’s no longer used to and hates the taste of, he notes.

Noticing his silence, you put the brush down to look at him. 

“You okay, raf?” Genuine, innocent concern. 

“It hurts.” Puffing his cheeks, he frowns and closes his eyes.

“What hurts? Are your wrists sore agai-” — “No! Not that.” Rafayel whines, peeking at you through his long(er) lashes.

“Well, i’m not in the mood to play guess with you, fishie.” Arching a brow at his dramatic discomfort, you chuckle as he whines once more, “Heavens- they’re sore!”

And you have to bite your lip to not burst into laughter. Having the pleasure of seeing Rafayel, usually confident and sharp with his words, blushing like a literal girl was truly a sight you’d never thought you had to see.

“Your boobs?-” — “Don’t say it like that!” You swear that the big and tall windows of his home could’ve shattered in an instant with his horrified scream. 

“Awww, babyyy! Don’t be shy! We’ve all been through that, ‘s just part of girlhood!” You poke his cheek, aiming to tease him just a little more. Leaning in closer, you sit on his plump thighs.

Oh and he looks so done. 

“Stop acting like i’m a woman!-” He basically cries out in embarrassment.

“Oh but you are!” Interrupting him, you continue, “And as your girlfriend, and girl best friend, i’ll help you with your girl problems, raffy-”

“I’ll spit bubbles on you!” Rafayel interrupts back and you finally break down laughing on his lap.

Rafayel swears to himself that he wants to bite your head off so you stop teasing him, he hates how he can feel the tip of his pale ears get warmer each second and something inside him growing hotter. He’d bury your face on hot sand right now and yet he doesn’t move you from his lap.

As your laughter settles and you breathe in to calm down, you place a kiss on his burning cheek. A silent apology. “Seriously though, you’ve turned out to be quite… busty!” You giggle but continue before he can throw a fit again, “Can i massage you baby? Would you let me do that f’you, raf?” Whispering against his cheek, you nuzzle the bridge of your nose on his skin.

He just nods, still frowning in shame and with eyes closed shut. 

Your fingers trace his collarbones in sickly light touches, hands snaking down to the foreign feeling on his chest. 

He shivers and twitches under you once your hands cup his tits through his white blouse, the absence of a bra making your touch feel a little too intimate for his already overwhelmed brain. Your fingers feel him in circular motions, gently applying pressure to where his nipples take place.

Rafayel squirms, throwing his head back and trying to hide his face in his long, purple hair. “You’re so responsive, baby.” You coo, purposefully brushing your thumbs on his nipples, which ignites a yelp from his tight throat. 

The sensitive pebbles grow hard not so long later, making themselves visible under his light shirt. He curses you in his mind, the innocent and sweet way you talk to him could get him going anytime. Rafayel bites his glossy lip hard. 

Fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, you give him your sweetest smile. “Your body hasn’t changed at all baby. You still melt down when you have your chest played with.” You lean in, closing the space between you two and press a kiss on his trembling lips. “The only difference here is that you’re the prettiest,” kiss, “most whiny,” another kiss, “and cutest girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” and a last peck to seal your words like a spell.

Your lips leave his but the phantom sensation of your mouth against his stays. Your lips find home on his jawline, placing featherlight kisses on the milky white skin. 

“Can i take this off, raf? I might need a more serious inspection if you’re sore like that, hm?” Pinched by your fingers, the first button of his blouse comes undone, exposing more of his cleavage. “Y-yes.” Is all Rafayel answers, not much more than a shy whisper.

And that is the only sign you need to keep going. Your hands work gently but still eager to finish the job and reveal what’s under the expensive fabric. He helps you with the sleeves, accepting his fate and that even if he tried to shy away and hide, you wouldn’t let him. And how could you? Not now. Not when his perfect, spotless skin is exposed to the cool air of the living room, the sea breeze guided inside by the open windows making his nipples react at the temperature and stand tall.

Your lips, never far from his neck, kiss down his collarbones and the fat of his tits. His reactions are exactly what you’d expect, low whines and nonstop squirming under your touch. With open mouthed kisses to his areola, a cute light brown you note, you’re quick to give his nipple a playful lick, igniting a squeak from him. 

“D-don’t- do that-!” Rafaye’sl protests are ignored by your ears, while your lips suck on the sensitive pebble, your fingers pinch the other one, rolling it gently yet teasingly between your thumb and index finger.

Pop! – Is the sound your mouth makes as you let go. “Fuck..”, you eye him with hunger, and even though his eyes are squeezed shut, he seems to notice by your silence. “Stop staring. You’re ridiculous.” Of course he has to try and bite back.

“Am i now?” You kiss the corner of his lips, interrupting any petty answer he was about to give you. “Shit- need you to sit on my face. Can you do that f’me, baby? Please?” 

Rafayel feels like a virgin again, the foreign, weird and achy feeling between his legs makes his brain foggy. He wants to say no and shy away, spit a thousand bubbles at your face as he promised but he just can’t.

Which doesn’t mean he won’t freak out anyway. 

“N-no! That isn’t even your thing- i’m like, twice your size-” Before he can continue his protests, you’re already lying on your back on the big couch of his living room. “Please? Jus’ wanna let my girlfriend know how good it feels, mhm?” It is your turn to whine, beg.

He stares at you in horror but the pathetic look you give him wins. He kicks his pants and boxers off but his judgemental stare doesn’t falter. You can’t help but moan at the sight of his new, bare body. 

Rafayel was surely the prettiest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on and now, prettiest woman too. He sits on your lap, facing you, testing the waters, hoping it’d be enough to quiet you down. “Closer, ‘fayel.” You urge.

This time he finally gives in with no complaints, shifting on your lap and closer to your shoulders. There, he turns on his back, hovering on top of your face before you grab his plush hips and push him down impatiently.

“A-ah!- don’t just do that-” He mewls.

You taste Rafayel before you can’t even see how wet he is. Spreading his ass with both hands, you pepper his cunt with eager kisses. He trembles at the new feeling, squirming and accidentally grinding against your lips, only igniting more whines to leave his pretty lips.

Your head spins at his sounds, brain mushy with how submissive you could get him to behave, at how fucking hot he sounds and how good he tastes. 

Finally diving in, your lips suck on his folds gently while your hands, once on his ass, help his hips move against you for more constant stimulation. 

“Fu-uck!- Dun stop. Please.” Rafayel squeals before a tiny lightbulb lightens up on his head.

Rafayel leans down, trembling on top of you as he pulls down your shorts just enough so he can have access to your panties. He doesn’t take it off, doesn’t have the patience to, only pulls them to the side and greets your awaiting pussy with a kiss. 

In this whole mess, you didn’t even realize how your arousal started to build up during this whole time. Too busy with Rafayel, looking at Rafayel, teasing Rafayel. You’re sure that he — she — is the siren that will drag you to the bottom of the sea with pretty mewls and then consume you. 

As he should, you think. You’d die happily.

To the kitten licks on your clit, you shiver, parting your legs open to help him. “Getting- mgh- bold now, baby? Thought you’d let me do all the work.” Muffled by the weight on top of you, you tease anyway.

You don’t give him much space to speak, wrapping your lips around his clit and sucking at  a steady pace. You’re not able to see his reaction but his mouth lets go of your cunt, his lashes tremble and close shut in pleasure. “Gonna cum, rafe? Oh- mgh- y’er such a sweet girl, raf.” You praise sweetly. 

Rafayel really tries to keep up with you but with his mushy brain, his head only rests against your thigh while he moans lowly. His clit throbs on your tongue thanks to your gentle words, you laugh mockingly under him. “Fuck- dun’ like when i call you pretty girl  but your body tells me otherwise, love. You don’t get much from lying here, raf.”

Shut up. Is what he really wants to tell you, maybe flick your forehead and say all the petty things he can think of. His thighs shake violently and with another loud and melodic cry, Rafayel cums. 

You keep going for a little longer, kissing his folds and clit and sweet affection before a strangled whine makes you pull away. 

He helps himself out of your face, sitting on the couch with his head resting on a blue pillow with the face of someone who just came back from pound town. Rafayel doesn’t bat an eye when you manhandle him closer to your body.

His lips find yours in an instant, kissing you with need, like he just came out of the ocean for the first time and his lungs aren’t used to the summer breeze on the beach. He sucks on your tongue, swiping his own on your under lip in a sloppy kiss.

You two fight for space on the couch, now feeling a bit cramped. Rafayel’s legs tangle on yours messily and he finds himself on your lap once again, grinding and humping against you like this is exactly where he was meant to be. Smiling on his mouth, you can’t help but tease him. 

“Insatiable much? Pretty girl can’t take her hands off me hm?” You chuckle but are quickly interrupted, moaning loudly when his clit accidentally bumps on yours, which Rafayel takes advantage of.

And you let him, your only guidance being the phantom touch of your hands on his waist. “You can’t really ever keep your mouth shut, can you?” He sighs, “Not near you, ever.” 

You’re quick to cum too, with hitched breath and hips buckling under his in search of more stimulation, any moans are silenced by his lips insistently glued to yours.

Noticing your body melting on the couch cushions, Rafayel lets himself relax on top of you, too. With a last kiss to your neck, he buries his face on your shoulder blade.

“I’ll file a report about what happened later, m’kay? Dun stress.” — “Hmmm.” Is all he’s able to answer while your free hand massages his scalp, slowly drifting him off to sleep.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading! (*´▽`*)

[katsyarn]

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS - HAIKYUU!

CHARACTERS: Tsukishima, Oikawa, Atsumu, Kenma

SYNOPSIS: headcanons about when, how and why you became FWB

CONTENT WARNINGS: suggestive content, degradation, spitting, fingering, they're all complete and utter assholes

Author's note; This isn't smut but there's really suggestive content ahead, Feel free to request anything you want I'm desperate to write anything. This is a college AU but feel free to consider it whatever you'd like I don't really care. also I see you 13 year olds lurking, I can't really stop you but I'm obligated to tell you to stay away

TSUKISHIMA who had no sexual interest in anyone before he saw you batting your pretty eyelashes at him when you were at a party

Tsukishima who was friends with you way before college, way before you got so damn mature

Tsukishima who finds himself thinking about you day and night, waiting for the next time he'll be able to watch those tears prick at your eyes as he shoves his cock down your pretty throat.

Tsukishima who acts so so mean in bed, calling you his slut or his little whore just to be so so soft for aftercare

Tsukishima who spits on your pretty face when you go down on him

Tsukishima who gets jealous when he sees you with your boyfriend, fucking you in the nearest public space hoping you'll get caught and he'll have you all to himself

Tsukishima who always guards your drink when you're away

Tsukishima who acts soo mean so he doesn't get attached :(

OIKAWA who keeps his pretty girl a secret.

Oikawa who's an asshole that never lets you get a boyfriend but has had countless girlfriends

Oikawa who's mean to you in public, humiliating you in front of others but makes it up to you with those skillful fingers of his

Oikawa who makes you count how many times he spanks you if you misbehave

Oikawa who is so so mean in front of his friends but so sweet in bed

Oikawa who showers with you and washes your hair gently after fucking your brains out :(

Oikawa who makes you dumb on his cock if you flirt with any other guy

Oikawa who doesn't respect you enough to date you but still want his little angle to be all his

Oikawa who bullies your pretty cunt during class :3

Oikawa who always marks you up with love bites and scratch marks so everyone knows he owns you

ATSUMU who fucks you in the locker rooms before every game as a token of good luck

Atsumu who takes out his frustration after an argument with his brother on you

Atsumu who likes stuffing you full in public making you walk around with cum dripping down your leg :(

Atsumu who lets his brother fuck you every once in a while despite your protests (so meann)

Atsumu who takes you on dates but would never go out with you

Atsumu who makes eye contact with you when he's kissing other girls to get you jealous

Atsumu who brags about fucking you to his friends so they tease you when they see you

Atsumu who is just a huge asshole but you love him so much :(

KENMA who goes back to playing video games after frying your brain on his cock :(

Kenma who ignores you in public and pretends he doesn't know you but fucks you so so good after

Kenma who ignores you after you've had sex leaving your apartment immediately after

Kenma who lets you get off on him after he's came cause he's too lazy

kenma who calls you a slut for letting him use you :(

Kenma who does everything possible to not get emotionally involved

Kenma who is such a meanie calling you nothin' more than a warm mouth to him after you ask him to stay

I did everything I could to make them as mean as possible, I don't even know why I just felt like it :3

[chrissv4mp]

invisible string theory ᝰ.ᐟ

wind whistles quietly through trees on sidewalks as you pass by them, the leaves rustling gently, loose ones falling to the patch of dirt where it was planted.

billie's beside you, fingers brushing yours every other second but not quite interlacing fully. your steps are in almost in sync, blurring together under the setting sun of los angeles. it's still warm even as the shining star lowers itself under the mountains, enveloping the city in near darkness.

you walk side-by-side in comfortable silence, legs occasionally brushing every now and then when you walk too close—though, neither of you mind. you'd morph into one human being if you could. just to be close to each other.

but something in your stomach twists that you can't name.

her hand snakes around your waist before you even realize it, a small gasp escaping your lips—before you notice that she's guiding you over the grass toward a small playground. not many kids were here at this time of day, probably scared of the dark or the dog that was always lurking around the block. you'd heard some rumor about him "eating someone's face off."

once billie situates herself on a park bench, you lower yourself onto the empty spot next to her. there's a small gap between your legs, the wood of the bench visible—and it feels so close yet so far.

but the distance was gonna be so much longer in just a couple of weeks, when billie kicks off the next leg of her tour. every time she left it felt more and more heartbreaking. the feeling of her lips on your forehead right before she left for the airport made your stomach twist, a frown forming on your lips that seemed to never go away until she came back.

but she's always made sure to call you—every morning, every night, even in the middle of the day while she was exploring the city sometimes—and that made you feel a little better. still, the space between you two always felt too much to bare. to you, at least.

you wondered if she felt that way too.

"...so, i have a question," you murmur suddenly, turning your head to look over.

billie glances over a second later. "what's up?"

you kick a rock on the pavement just below where you're sitting, eyes moving away and locking onto the plastic red slide on the playground.

a small smile curls on your lips. "why don't you hold my hand anymore—?"

"oh, here we go again," billie laughs, lips pulling up into an amused smile as she throws her hands up in fake exasperation.

you shake your head, talking over her as she complains. "no, i'm serious—i'm so serious."

billie meets your eyes again, pausing for a moment and tilting her head, hands resting in the pockets of her shorts. she nods over at you. "alright, okay—okay, continue, c'mon."

"i haven't held your hand in, like—" you start, but billie mocks you halfway through your sentence, tone high in a way to match yours.

you push her shoulder softly, knocking her a little off balance and nearly making her fall—the two of you fall into a mess of laughter for a few minutes. you try to seem serious after a moment, though your smile won't go away.

"dude, shut up—you're not funny," you say, punching her shoulder playfully. "i swear, you're not funny."

she clears her throat. "my fault. okay, i'm done, i'm done."

"m'kay," you murmur. "let me think."

billie tsks, shaking her head. she moves to grab her phone from her pocket, checking the time. "'bouta set a timer."

your mind wanders, trying to remember the last time she held your hand for more than just a minute—which was every single time. including yesterday, at the grocery store.

it was friday, so you knew it'd be busy—but not that busy. every time you moved, you bumped into someone, or someone's arm brushed yours. billie picked up on your discomfort upon seeing the way you practically clung to the shopping cart like it was your lifeline.

her hand had wrapped around your waist at first, then realized she didn't like the feeling of people brushing up against her either—so, her hand found yours, and it felt like you could finally breathe normally.

you hum. "it could—mm, it could've been yesterday."

"okay, yesterday, wow," she gasps fakely, mirroring your exaggeration from earlier. "i'm—i'm glad you remember that. really, i'm glad that—"

"yeah, thank you," you say, tone having that playful finality in it that it always had when you two were arguing over small things like this.

billie rolls her eyes, but she's not annoyed. far from it. she's just happy to be in your presence, even if it's not in the quiet, secluded safety of your home—she favored moments like this more than anything in the world. the stupid debates. the dumb rough-housing. the even dumber attempts at trying to fact-check the other knowing damn well both of you were wrong.

"alright, alright, i—i got a question for you now," billie states, eyes drifting back to yours, smile fading a bit.

you nod. "okay."

"why do you think we met?" she asks, tone still amused. but there's hint of seriousness it in. like she's genuine. "yeah, answer me that."

a nearby streetlamp illuminates the side of billie's face, the curve of her nose, the pretty color of her plump lips. it may seem like a hard question to most, but you didn't need time to think. you just wanted the words to linger a while.

wanted billie to think of—maybe predict—your answer before you even spoke. the look on her face never changed. that curious, amused look where her eyebrows were knit together just slightly, eyes narrowed.

"well, i think, personally—" you cut yourself off, pausing for a moment before turning to face her fully. then adding,

"have you ever heard of the invisible string theory?"

she looks puzzled for a moment—and you see the exact moment the memory clicks in her head. you'd told her about it a few years back, after the first year anniversary of your relationship. you hadn't expected her to remember, it was just a thought that came to you after you snuck off at an after party together and went to stargaze at a nearby park. similar to the one you were at now.

"oh, yeah," she nods. "yeah—yeah, you told me about it."

"mhm. so, basically, we met because we were supposed to meet," you say.

billie nods, interested.

you take a breath before continuing. "and, and we're connected because... we're supposed to be connected, y'know?"

"okay," billie says through a quiet chuckle.

"it's kinda like that, "i loved you before i existed, and i'll love you even when i die"," you add, then your voice goes quiet. the silence isn't tense or uncomfortable, it feels rather safe, the space filled with understanding.

she smiles after a moment, fingers creeping up your thigh, hand resting there warmly. "okay. guess i shouldn't have doubted my smart girl,"

"exactly," you tease.

"but, yes, like," you struggle for a moment before finding your words. "it's crazy, it's scary—it's, it's unpredictable."

billie nods again, eyes on your lap—her hand, in specific. your own hand comes down, fingers sneaking under her hand then locking between hers. you see her cheeks heat up, a light pink washing over her face.

"so don't leave me."

a beat. then billie looks up. eyes soft.

"please."

she huffs a laugh, nods. "yup, you got it."

"alright, alright." you giggle softly. but your heart's beating 10x harder than it was before, pounding against your chest nervously.

that comfortable silence envelopes everything again. the rustle of the trees is gone now, though the buzz of the light overhead replaces it. the playground is still, the woodchips dull, unmoving. billie's hand in yours, soft. warm.

"i love you," you say, voice not quiet nor loud.

the silence that comes after that is anything but comfortable. billie doesn't say anything, just sits still, eyes locked on your lap like a robot. it feels weird now—tense. but you're not sure if billie feels that way too.

maybe not. maybe she doesn't feel anything.

not the warmth of your touch. not the meaning behind your words. not the twitching of your fingers. not even the undying love you have for her.

so you try again.

"i love you."

and, this time, she looks up.

but she doesn't say anything. just stares into your eyes. it feels different though. because she's looking at you, but it doesn't even feel like she sees you.

and maybe that's what you've been feeling all along.

invisible.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @partyf4vor @chxhir0 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jamil Viper - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

When Summoned: Well, of course I would go all out on taking care of my appearance. Particularly on my birthday, when I'm to be the man of the hour.

Summon Line: I should take time to relax, at least on my birthday of all days, huh... True, I guess it might not be terrible to have a breather in my room sometimes.

Groooovy!!: I think I could afford to switch up my makeup application every once in a while. ...Maybe just for my birthday, at least.

Home: I'll just rest a bit.

Swap Looks: I should tend to my hair.

Home Idle 1: Won't I ever cut my hair short? Well, this length may require extra care, but I think I'll keep it this way for a while. I actually rather like it.

Home Idle 2: I received a birthday card from Jade. He could have just handed it to me directly, so why did he bother posting it in the mail...?

Home Idle 3: This stays between us, but... Whenever my birthday draws near, I get a little excited. Pretty childish of me, isn't it?

Home Idle - Login: In my private time, I have many things I both want to do and should do. I'd like to make the most of that time.

Home Idle - Groovy: Ortho mentioned he noticed that my makeup was different from usual. I'm not saying he's wrong, but... It's a little embarrassing to have it pointed out right to my face.

Home Tap 1: I like to wear oversized and comfortable clothes. Not only is it perfectly loose-fitting, but it's also easy to move around in.

Home Tap 2: Rook-senpai really does just call anything beautiful, doesn't he? He said as much when I ran into him by chance while wearing this outfit, how absurd.

Home Tap 3: What's my roommate like? Well, he's not a pain, or anything. He's the kind of guy that doesn't care at all if I start doing stretches in the middle of the night.

Home Tap 4: I felt a quick shiver when Malleus-senpai suddenly hailed me. There's no way I would have ever expected that he'd just want to wish me a happy birthday.

Home Tap 5: Whenever I pick out new outfits, I always make sure to try them on first. Of course I make sure to look at the design and material type, but I also like to put an emphasis on comfortability.

Home Tap - Groovy: You want to know what hair care products I'd recommend? ...I don't mind, but don't go telling other people. I'd hate for it to be even harder to find in stock.

Duo: [JAMIL]: I'm expecting a good gift from you, Ortho. [ORTHO]: I think you'll definitely like it, Jamil-san!

Birthday Login Message: So, you remembered my birthday, huh. Thanks. ...Hm? There's something on my head? Oh, it must be some of the confetti from the party poppers. Just a moment ago, Ace and Floyd set some off. I already had my suspicions about what was to come when I saw them trying to lurk in the shadows, but I pretended to be surprised for them. Why...? Well, if I don't give them the right reaction, who knows what'll happen next, right? Even so, they still griped about my lack of reaction. Geez, what do they want from me?

Requested by @farfalla049.

[lavenderprose]

She laughs, pulls him down onto the meditation couch and says, "Shh, quick, quick."

His mouth covers hers, pulling out another high giggle for him to catch on his tongue. The sensation of his small, neat mustache against her lip is new and exciting, as is the taste of his mouth--clean, vague tea. He tastes like his own wise words and the way that he smiles. Intense and gentle all at once. He tastes like this stolen moment, and fun secrets, and not as much like death as one might think.

She can't remember how they got here, or what she was doing before. It feels a little like her life began when he knelt between her thighs.

"C'mon," she says into his mouth, his searching tongue, and she hikes up the hem of the skirt she doesn't remember putting on. The smell of him is amazing, heightening the experience of his body against hers in a way that feels almost intoxicating. She is so desperate to feel him inside her that every second between now and their iminent coupling seems to stretch for an eternity.

"Sweet girl," he says against the hollow of her throat, and her back arches off the couch as pure reflex. He's face-down in her tits now, sucking a bruise onto one of them while his beringed hand skates up the swell of her thigh, dips underneath her ass and pulls her leg snug against his waist. Her hips accommodate the shape of him effortlessly, like they were hewn specifically to cradle him in the heated curve of her sex.

She thinks he was wearing trousers and a sash, as he usually is, but they are both gone all at once. In fact, very suddenly they're both naked aside from the tantalizing drape of her bright red skirt around her waist and his gold, clinking and singing as his body moves. She feels the head of his cock slide against the inside of her thigh, hot and damp and erotic. The anticipation of being fucked, being fucked by him, strikes through her body from the back of her throat to the depths of her cunt.

"Fuck me," she breathes, arms around his shoulders, thighs spread. "Please? Please?"

"You needn't beg, my love," he says, reaching down--his rings slide against her, cool amongst her heat. She shudders and giggles--ticklish despite herself. He smiles, a gentle curve to his lips and an echoing one in the facial hair above his lip, and there is so much love and sex flooded in her belly that she feels almost sick with it. His eyelids flutter as he slides into her. The apple in his throat bobs. She drags a kiss onto it.

"Yes," she sighs, head falling back against the couch cushion. "Oh, yes."

She wants him to go fast--because there's a feeling in the back of her head, though she doesn't know why, that they don't have much time. She thinks it has something to do with the door hiding behind the back of the couch, or the number of hours in the day. She wants him to go slow, because she feels safe here. He is inside her, around her, and she has never felt more cherished.

"Oh, oh," is all she can bring herself to say. She curls her fingers into the dip of his shoulder blades, indenting his skin with her blunt nails. He gasps against her ear, a shaking hand ghosting down her side and coming to rest around the thickest part of her thigh.

"I love you," he whispers. "Oh, I love you."

She groans, finds his hair with one hand and digs all five of her fingers into it. She has never felt so fucking wanted--

"Rook."

It falls away. Everything spins and, when she refocuses, she's on that Maker-forsaken cliffside. The gray expanse of Solas' Fade prison stretches out before her, stale air suffocating.

Mortifyingly, she can still feel the ghost of Emmrich inside her. The spectre of his hands and cock. Wetness between her thighs brought on by the dream of him.

"Fuck completely off," Rook snarls at Solas--the looming visage of her stoic, dis-a-fucking-proving God lurking on the other side of the crevasse. "I'm not talking to you right now. Are you kidding? Let me wake up."

Because he doesn't know what's good for him, Solas opens his mouth. "My apologies. I am not privy to what dreams your slumbering mind offers you before our link establishes itself."

"I'm sure you can assume," Rook says, patting at her body just to make sure her clothes are back. They are, as usual in this place, her Watcher's apron and armor. She wonders what her face looks like. "Fuck off, Solas. Let me wake up."

"You are in control of that particular function."

Rook offers him a middle finger for his trouble, and then she seems to fall face-forward.

Waking from the Fade prison is usually jarring. She snaps up, still dressed, sweating and hot as hell. She is still aching for a fuck--for the dick of a man who has never touched her with anything approaching lust.

"Shit," she breathes, palming her face. "Oh...dammit."

It isn't even the memory of his mouth and hands that stands out from the rapidly-fading dream. She has no way of knowing if the shape of his rings against her or the length of him are true--they are estimations of her dreaming mind. But she knows what his voice sounds like. She knows his smell from a few occasions where he'd stood too close.

She can still hear him say that he loves her.

"Fuck," she says, mourning the dream--and a few tears fall into her palms.

[respectthepetty]

The lighting people working on The Boy Next World deserve a raise because how did they still get a split between Phu's bright and warm world with Cir's dark and cold world as they are standing right next to each other?!

And Cir isn't enveloped by the warmth until Phu touches him and says his he loves him!!!!

After that, the light stays with Cir.

It's dark outside, yet the warmth and the light stay with him.

If only it could've stayed with Jin and Wim too, but I'm not touching that. Instead I'm going to remain in this beautiful shot before hell broke loose where Phu and Cir are safe in a bubble framed by their loving friends.

Because Phu is in love as he wears his pink cardigan.

And his 💕heart💕 Olive Oyl shirt.

But Cir is just as in love, and he openly shows it.

Like making sure nobody comes between him and his man.

And that nobody hurts him.

Because Phu, with his yellow cardigans and yellow straw, is the light of Cir's life.

And Cir will do anything to protect his sunshine.

So even though Cir is still dark, his world is a lot warmer and brighter since he came back from his parallel world jail.

Yet it was interesting that while Cir got to bask in Phu's light, Phu slowly descended into darkness.

So once Achi dragged Phu, who was wearing Cir's blue, in to see Lukpear, the darkness was apparent. (Sidenote: How do you trick someone into stalking you? If so, I need notes.)

And even though Cir showed up to save the day and his man thanks to Jin's phone call, the darkness still lingered.

So the next shot of the guardian hanging in the brightly lit window watching over Phu was even more interesting because we all know that guardian has really been Cir all along.

Cir has been the faceless angel protecting Phu making sure nothing bad happens to him.

Cir has always been a faceless shadow lurking around dark corners in Phu's life.

So it makes sense that the only way Phu was going to figure this secret out was to step into Cir's dark world.

And finally face the truth.

So as Phu stands there trying not to get sucked into the darkness while wearing Cir's blue with a little heart over his, he has to confront the faceless shadow.

Who is also his guardian.

Because in every universe, Cir will be his dark angel.

[mithaeesblog]

Spideypool - One Bed Trope (Part 1)

Sorry for grammar mistakes!

Deadpool huffed and puffed, as he ran as fast as he can, puddles splashing from every step he took. As the rain falls, the drops were starting to blur his vision, but he had no time to stop. Deadpool's legs were in so much pain, his lungs felt like it was about burst any minute now but getting out of this mess with his best friend, Spidey was the only thing he was worried about. Spiderman's web shooters ran out of fluid long time ago, resulting in them running away on foot instead of swinging around the town to escape. "Hurry! These guys have been hungry for ages and I'm so *not* into getting eaten right now! I just replaced my ass!" "And whose fault is that? If you didn't mess with the portals, we wouldn't be here right now, Deadpool!" "This isn't the right time to play the blame game!" Deadpool yelled as he jumped over the boxes of crates and trash cans along the way. Spider-man grumbled beside him, clearly annoyed by his response.

Right as they were about to turn the corner, suddenly, a vampire appeared in front of them.

"AHHHH!!"

In that instant, a high pitch scream escaped from both of their lips. Deadpool, who shrieked louder than the other man, quickly held onto Spidey in panic before shooting the creature in the chest again and again until he was sure it was no longer moving.

"Deadpool!" Spiderman gasped, his hand covering his mouth as he stared at the vampire then to Deadpool and back again to the creature dying on the pavement. Deadpool sucked his teeth in disapproval before shaking his head, "Yeah... sorry about that. Well, actually sorry that you had to see that, not really because I killed Freddy Krueger wanna be. Now, let's go!" Deadpool snatched Spidey's arm again, pulling him away quickly once he saw the crowd of vampires slowly catching up to them.

Although both had greater stamina than most people, the longer they ran, the more their heart started pounding uncontrollably. The burn in their chests and the cramps on their legs were starting to feel more painful than before, causing them to slow down and cough before Spidey saw something far away. It was something, a place where they could stay at.

"There! There's— shit" Spidey cursed before coughing hysterically and began hitting his chest repeatedly, while his other hand rested on his knee. "A shed—the shed," He choked, "maybe we can stay there for a while."

Before Deadpool could respond, Spiderman dragged him there immediately, the sounds of their heavy breathing and coughing rang through their ears as they headed for the abandoned building Spidey saw.

"You sure about this, Spidey? Looks like a vampire would live here too. A broke one or like maybe my wife died in here so I decided to stay to prove my love for her type kinda vampire, ya know?” "You got a better idea, big guy?" Spidey asked, hands on his waist as he looked at the abandoned shack in front of him. The windows, the walls and the roof were not in their best state but it was enough for them to be safe for the night. The stench and the nasty bugs crawling in were enough for them to be creeped out and doubt their decision but not enough for them to turn the other way.

Right as they opened the door, dust, dirt and broken wooden floors welcomed them.

"Uh-oh. Your spider senses tingling yet because mine is. Rat senses, in this case." Deadpool said in disgust as he watched the rats hide immediately under the covers and back to wherever they came from. As much as Spidey had more things to say, he was quiet due to exhaustion and from the pain on his joints that he was still experiencing. He decided to use this opportunity to take a deep breath and look around.

The shack was tiny but it was big enough for both of them. There were cobwebs all over the place, sounds of rats chirping and bugs lurking around the corner but after everything they have been through, this was nothing. Now, the rocking chair rocking on its own did scare him a little bit but the bed beside it looked comfortable enough. There was a tiny kitchen but none of them were usable enough for them to get some water.

"You found anythin' yet?" Deadpool asked as he looked at some of the old displayed pictures near the fireplace.

"Nope. Just a bed and rocking chair... that's moving on its own. Giving you ten bucks there's a ghost sitting there right now, and she'll watch over us when we sleep." Spiderman said as he closed the door to the bedroom, hoping and praying that chair was just moving due to other reasons.

"We can invite the ghost to sleep with us, as long as its legal and it wants to. I'm cool with anythin." Deadpool smirked, turning his head enough to see Spider-man groan and folded his arms.

"Sleep with us? You're sleeping on that chair. I will sleep on the couch."

"Why are you gettin' the couch? I'm bigger. Taller than you if I may add, so I need that more than you, spiderling." Deadpool teased, as he stepped closer to Spiderman and stood in front of him. Almost as if he was proving how much bigger he was compared to Spidey.

Spider-man glared at him, obviously not in the mood for jokes and useless arguments especially from Deadpool.

“Back off, dude.” Spiderman rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, pushing the man aside before walking to the couch and slumped onto it. Immediately regretting it once he smelled something one of a kind.

"God, what is that smell?"

"Rats, piss... and more rats, definitely. But hey- there's a sweet bed waiting for us-"

Spider cut him off quickly, "I got into this mess because you dragged me here and messed with the portals. So I sleep on the couch, you get the possessed bed if you want. Just pray the ghost living in here would forgive you."

"Come on, don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts! Look, vampires, batmans, zombies, yeah they're all real.. but ghosts? Come on, just sleep here. I don't smell bad, I promise sweetums."

After opening the bedroom door, Deadpool used his hand to beckon Spidey over. "Just in case you didn't understand because you suck at being a vampire, that sign meant come in." He giggled a bit at his joke before hiding behind the door to take off his wet suit. Letting Spidey to think which one was a better option: staying on the same bed with Deadpool or smelling like rat and piss for the rest of the night. Spiderman thought about revealing his identity at this moment or if he should keep his mask on. But then, the idea of him wearing his soaked mask for hours made him uncomfortable.

Eventually, the piss and pain all over his joints won. Spiderman stood up, and entered the bedroom, quickly backing up a bit when he saw Deadpool out of his suit. It was not the first time Spiderman saw him with just his boxers on but it was always a surprise.

Couch it was, then.

Right when Spiderman was about to leave, Deadpool turned around and took off his mask, tossing it on the haunted rocking chair. A smug look on his face immediately replaced his concerned look after he turned around.

"You're fine with me sleeping like this, right? You've seen me naked, I've seen you naked, and now we're about to sleep on the same bed. We're practically lovers, I'm sure this is alright."

"We've- no, we- when? You've never seen me naked."

"Blah blah blah, I've seen you shirtless. That counts now. There's hangers in the closet, just hang your suit there and I promise, I won't do anything you wouldn't want me to do. Do we have safewords though?"

"God, just head to the bed and knock yourself out." Spiderman retorted, as he moved aside, allowing Deadpool to go ahead and sleep first. There was a silence and hesitation that filled up the room, only the rain and his breathing were the only ones he could hear for a while before finally taking off his suit. There was a mirror Spiderman could look himself into. While he was unzipping his suit, he saw Deadpool on the bed, facing the wall like a kid who just got grounded by a parent. Deadpool facing the wall eased up the tension a little bit, making Spidey chuckle before finishing up.

Once Spidey was done, he stood in front of the mirror. Looking at the cuts and bruises all over his body. They were slowly healing but still, not as fast as Deadpool's. Spidey knew it was part of his power but it was still impressive especially when he almost became a part of vampire buffet just a few hours ago.

Then, there was Spidey's mask. The mask that covered not only his face but also his identity. Somehow, for some reason Spidey decided to finally remove it like he had no care in the world before throwing it next to where Deadpool's mask was resting at. The more Spidey looked at his reflection, the more he despised how tired he looked. Or how insane his eyebags were and how his skin looked so rough. Spidey cursed under his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair and slowly walked to the bed.

Once he felt a cold breeze coming from the old, cracked window, Spidey began hogging most of the tattered blanket Deadpool had found from the closet. Before falling asleep, he decided to take a glance at the man sleeping beside him, —still facing the wall. Peter decided to do the same.

"Goodnight."

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ -`♡´-₊˚⊹ ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡ ᥫ᭡｡˚ ⋆

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/mithaeesblog/785921538741452800/spideypool-one-bed-trope-part-2

[lvl109]

one hundred times ✶ zayne li

summary.ᐟ gender neutral reader. wc: 1077. some comfort for me the zayne girlies bc infold never wants to make him rest and he deserves to be soft. warnings for a brief mention of a mission gone wrong, but no graphic description of any injuries.

teddy says.ᐟ infold has some fucking nerve </3 preparing myself for that new update like i'm gearing up for battle. infold count ur mfing days </3

exhaustion prickles against your skin like dried tear stains. a headache pounds its way into acknowledgment, a steady one-two, one-two, infuriatingly consistent like the dull beating of your heart. salt clumps your lashes together. silence hangs heavy and imminent, lurking like a thunderstorm’s noticeable grey clouds.

his unread messages pile every few days and an awful feeling pangs against your chest—answer him. he’s not the kind to worry outwardly, instead choosing to watch by the sidelines and slip his concerns through the shield of his authority and medical expertise. sly in the way his touch lingers faintly and his gaze flits between observing you in between eyeing his surroundings.

thunder claps like a warning and your presence begins to fade. he notices first, of course. typical of him. you turn to face the wall, leaving your phone on the dresser. the screen fades to black once again.

what would be your excuse this time? he worries. you know he does, and shame whispers something cynical. he has too much on his plate already, overflowing with patients and countless schedules and meetings and the fourth, and so on. and yet you know he would pause the mayhem for a moment just for you—flimsy, unpredictable you—and the thought of seeing the slight crease in his brow upon hearing the jumbled words fall from your lips in hiccuped sobs is enough to shy away.

he's too kind. too softhearted. his heart is burdened with the ability of open care—too much care, too much—and knowing he would cry with you, cry for you, no matter if words were spoken or not, makes your heart cinch painfully. you could not do that to him. you just couldn't. you wouldn’t know how to explain it to him.

your screen lights a faint hue upon your ceiling again before you consider another option. your grip around rumpled sheets tightens.

you give in. you always do.

“did you put your phone on silent mode? i haven't heard from you in a while.”

ease seeps through your skin like sunlight spilling across earth despite the chasm in your chest making itself known. stolen warmth. comforting, despite your questioning deservance. despite, despite.

“i'm sorry.” you hold back a slight wince at the lilt in your voice. worn from silence. you don’t know if he doesn’t hear it or chooses to move past it, thankful either way for it. “i've been… busy. the association has been keeping me away.”

a slight pause. you immediately know he doesn't buy the lie that just slipped past your lips, but he gracefully steps past it.

“work has been hectic as of late, so i understand.” a hum sounds through the phone, then, “but one of my patients said she remembered a pretty hunter saving her a few days ago. she sends her thanks, as well as a drawing she expects to be hand delivered as soon as possible.”

though his voice is soft, the underlying truth prickles away at your skin. you’ve not been just missing his calls. but it wasn’t like zayne to tiptoe around avoiding him openly. he must have figured out you needed the space. damn him for knowing you.

“it’s been a while,” his voice echoes. he sounds the same as always, voice steadying through the tiny speakers, and your hand trembles around the phone. “i didn’t think you were actually going to pick up pottery and move to a remote location in the middle of nowhere.” a pause, then, almost accusingly, “you didn’t move to a remote location in the middle of nowhere, right?”

a dry laugh leaves your lips, clipped in sound. “no, i’m.. i’m still here.”

silence stretches for miles after your voice fades. you contemplate hanging up, to not burden another with your problems, but he speaks up once more.

“did you really think i wouldn't notice?” he suddenly sounds tired, and your chest tightens. “they ask about you here. they worry.” i worry. he doesn’t say it. you hear it anyway.

your mouth opens and closes with no sound.

he's has always been a bit of an enigma to you. the others are much more tangible, easier to grasp at with both hands. they’re firm in your hold, willing–needing to be seen, and you don’t second guess much of what leaves their mouths because ninety percent of the time, they mean what they say. you almost always know what to expect with them, but he’s different, because of course he is.

the idea of him slips through your fingers like water, like no matter how much you try to form a concrete assumption of him, he molds into something different. unapproachable is what you would have described him, back then.

then you were brought in after a dangerous mission by less but still battered teammates, barely able to keep your own head up, and saw him in a new light. never had you seen him so shaken. silence had filled the room, much like now, but the care he’d taken in smoothing over your bandages with hands trembling ever so slightly had almost made you cry.

open concern. lingering and unsure until you’d opened your mouth and cracked something stupid to alleviate the wavering quiet. you still replay his laugh in your head sometimes.

“you’re always so tired. and i understand it. i do. but to shoulder it alone is the worst thing you can do to yourself.” talk to me. you see the olive branch clear as day.

“i’m sorry, i—” i’m scared. “i didn’t mean to.” i didn’t think anyone would notice.

“there’s a reason you have us.” he pauses, and as if suddenly embarrassed, adds, “i mean it, though. if it isn't too much trouble, of course. you could never bother me if it is welcomed wholeheartedly.”

you sniffle quietly, willing the tears not to fall even though you know he wouldn’t judge, and laugh something watery. his laugh is soft in return, and warmth spreads tenfold. given warmth. given freely.

“if you feel up for it,” he offers slowly, the sound of others’ voices muffled in the background now. “i would like to see you. that cafe you like updated their menu and one of the items reminded me of you. i'd like to share it with you.”

you take the olive branch. despite, despite. “you want to?”

his smile is heard even through the phone. “i do.” a certain promise. “one hundred times, i do.”

join my taglist here.

[temis-de-leon]

When Greed is too much

Characters: Mammon x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

M. Anon: good day, tennis. im an anon who lurks around your work. i find your work fascinating and I hope you may make a small oneshot for me. can you make a mammon x reader fanfiction? the pronounce doesn't matter. and the fanfiction could be about mammon and reader sneaking out frequently because mammon likes to gamble and they get caught one day and mammon took all of the blame for himself. i think it would be a good idea for a oneshot. but putting that aside, I adore your work. i like how you describe everything and your headcanons are interesting. i hope you can keep uploading. sending platonic loves.

A/N: I got a little distracted and made Mammon feel guilty af instead of taking the blame, I'm sorry, I hope you like it anyways <3 A little reference right at the end

.

Mammon had a complicated relationship with money.

He loved it too much to hate it and he needed it enough to forgive the danger it brought within. He would inlay it under his skin if he could, if Lucifer let him, making him shine under the lights like a kaleidoscope.

Cold metal between his fangs to check its authenticity, smooth paper sliding through his fingers, hard plastic shaping his wallet. Jewellery, clothes, his car. He had them because he needed it in any way, shape or form, like water to fish, riches to him. A bottomless pit that got bigger and bigger the more he threw in.

His fingers were longer and thinner than his brothers’ and more than once he had wondered if his sin had modified his body to easily indulge in it. He was also the fastest runner when he needed to and he could turn his words to honey if the situation required it. An opportunist thief, even if he disliked the term.

And he knew stealing wasn’t okay, but no amount of Lucifer’s punishments would stop him from doing so. He could manage hanging upside down for hours on end and, even when the lectures were painfully boring and made him want to die, sitting in the same position for as long as his brother decided was something he could live through. Lotan, or rather the flood it implied, was a bothersome threat and, although terrifying, the witches wouldn’t seriously hurt him unless Lucifer knew he could take it.

Still, constantly going through that was annoying, so he went to the next best thing, a place where condemned souls like him got together and did what pleasured him the most: bring money to the table. The wheel of fortune laid deep in his chest; sometimes he deceived himself, others, he was right.

Fortunately for his ego, his dignity and his integrity, Mammon had found his perfect lucky charm. Human shape and devoted to him, every time MC joined him in his escapades, his wallet came back home fatter than when they left. It was refreshing and addicting and it didn’t take him too long to actually need MC’s presence each time he left the house to gamble.

At first it was just once or twice every week and a half, then at least once a week, then three times a week, then every night. He would invite them to his room, taking advantage of the alibi their relationship offered, hang out and fool around until every single one of his brothers was asleep and then sneak out through the garage door.

It was a fun, bonding time between them. Holding hands while running from one corner of the town to another, pockets heavier and heavier as the night went by and clothes reeking of the cigars, alcohol and perfume of those who pushed them around amidst the chaos of the casino.

Mammon lived for all of that, especially now that MC was by his side, watching him thrive and win, over and over and over again. In their eyes, he succeeded and he was the one to carry the golden medal. Not his brothers, not their friends, him.

Eventually, he did what he did best and pushed his luck.

After an outstanding winning streak, they finally got to the night when everything went astray, losing every bet and every game, eventually finding themselves deep in debt with the casino and a bunch of furious patrons and, although begrudgingly, admitting that a period of restraint was long overdue.

And then they got home.

“When will you learn?” Lucifer said for the hundredth time while tightening the rope around his torso and trapping his hands behind his back.

“C’mon! It wasn’t that bad!”

He tried to smile to downplay the situation, but it came out wobbly and his fear was too obvious for his brother to ignore. Lucifer grinned with malice, eyes darkening in evil enjoyment before bending down to tie Mammon’s ankles together, slow in his movements and his words.

“Do you truly think this would’ve ended well? We both know you’re an idiot, but the limits you’re willing to cross outstand me. Bringing MC into this? Really? You moronic dimwit… I thought you would be the last to put them in danger. Alas, I was wrong”

“I’ve never put them in danger”

His immediate response brought Lucifer back to his feet, both of them now serious and locking eyes with each other. Mammon felt the rough edges of the rope scraping his skin, uncomfortably keeping him in place under his brother’s infuriated gaze.

“Taking them out of the house for hours every night, making them play games against lowlife demons and risking their safety for a few coins, what is that to you if not jeopardizing their life?”

“A few coins? We made ourselves rich!”

“Is that what bothers you about what I just said?”

“I’m telling you they were safe with me!”

Lucifer sighed, shaking his head in disappointment and going around Mammon. A noise coming from behind filled him with dread and he didn’t have time to beg for more time before something pulled his feet to the side and his body hit the carpeted floor. It barely softened the fall and soon his pained groans reached every corner of the staircase.

“You truly never learn”

“I’ll do it! I’ll learn! Please don’t leave me here! You can’t abandon your baby brother here, can’t you? It was an honest mistake!”

“Mammon”

After securing the rope around one of the beams from the ceiling, the eldest took a few steps down and looked at him from above. His voice was low, hopeless, and Mammon found that more hurtful than the strong grip around his limbs or the pounding on his head.

“You’re lucky MC’s heart shines brighter than mine” Lucifer said, leaving him speechless “One of these days you will go too far and I’m not sure who will be there to catch you”

“What…?”

“Rest well, Mammon” he continued to go down the stairs, not bothering to look at him anymore. He spoke one last time before disappearing completely. “And think about what I said, will you?”

Lucifer’s footsteps merged into the night, the lights turned off and, suddenly, Mammon found himself alone.

He was still wearing the clothes he’d chosen to go to the casino hours ago, jewellery dangling over his face and DDD threatening to fall out of his pocket. The screen lightened up, showing MC’s name, and the desperation to answer the call made him squirm enough to ultimately make the phone fall to the bottom of the stairs. He grimaced at the cracking sound.

Asmo would say it was karma for being a scumbag and he didn’t know if he should start believing that.

He wasn’t a scumbag, was he? MC was fine! Not a scratch in their pretty face to complain about and every bit of their outfit still in place and making them look even better. They had been smiling when they finally got to the garage door, shallowly breathing while they checked him out in search of any type of damage.

They were fine.

They had been smiling because they’d been having fun. Or was it out of relief? Heart beating in fear, terrified about him and the punishment that awaited them both once Lucifer found them.

Mammon craned his neck, looking at the remains of his DDD with a sting in his throat. Why did MC call him? Were they mad at him? Did they have enough? The thought of actually putting them in danger for a piece of metal, easily ripped paper or soon to be frozen plastic made his hear stop in panic.

He was a fast runner, an immortal demon with wings. It was easy for him to flee and leave his troubles behind, but MC didn’t have the same advantages. They were a human, flesh and soul in close proximity, easy to eat and forget.

A gasp escaped him at the image of his partner being tore apart and he shook his head trying to chase it away, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and it was there, like an omen or a reminder, Lucifer’s words roaring in his mind.

His name got louder and louder until It finally sounded right next to his ear. A hand cupped his neck and MC’s worried face appeared in his line of vision, but the remorse didn’t let him feel relief.

“Are you okay? Let me get you down. I got out as soon as I could, but I’m sure Lucifer knows I’m here anyways. What a way to end the night…”

He huffed at their whispers, his heart breaking piece by piece. Looking at MC and the way they carefully untied the knots, he knew Lucifer was right. The dumb human was too good for him and didn’t want to acknowledge it, choosing instead to stick by his side each day until it would be too late.

“I’m sorry” he finally said in a broken voice.

“For what, dummy?”

“I put you in danger”

MC chuckled, kissing his jaw before freeing his arms and watching the rope fall down. Mammon leaned forward until he touched his feet, noticing his body burning while he worked the knots that creased the leather in his boots.

“How did you put me in danger?” they asked with a hint of humour in their voice “As far as I know, I went with you willingly and we had a bad night. It was bound to happen after winning that much money”

“But they almost attacked us…”

“We got out of there just in time” MC interrupted him, then frowned and put their hands on their hips. “Did Lucifer said something to you?”

“No”

The lie was obvious and MC licked their teeth in poorly contained fury. Seconds later, Mammon finally set himself free and swung on the rope to reach the banister. Once he settled and stood straight, MC rushed to hug him. Both of them stayed silent and basking in the comfort that surrounded them.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg them not to reprimand Lucifer and he wanted to thank them for freeing him and staying with him beyond what he definitely deserved, but no words came out and forcing them would make him cry; and doing that in front of MC would definitely kill him faster than Lucifer could ever do.

In the end, none of them said anything, instead clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. Slowly, as if they were handling a wounded animal, MC grabbed his hands and lead him towards their room.

What did that human movie say?

He’d die for them. He’d kill for them. Either way, what bliss.

.

.

[hiscrimsonembrace]

hiii, not sure if you take requests or not, but i think that you just GET simon and his different personas. it's amazing. you understood the assignment! could i please request simon's reaction to reader being sexually harassed by someone? how would he react? how would he try to protect the reader?

I'm open to requests if I have the time, if they sound interesting or I get an idea in my head after reading them! I've never done this before but I love interacting with people, so ask away! <3 (not going to describe it in detail and will instead focus on his reaction, also I don't wanna dictate exactly how the reader feels since it's a very personal thing, so I'll give you some options!)

First off, whenever you and Simon decide to venture out together, you become the center of attention—that's for certain. Maybe it's his sheer size, the way he towers over you no matter your height. Maybe it's how he goes out of his way to stay concealed, always in black, cap pulled low and mask covering most of his face. Your own personal bodyguard. Or maybe it's the way he carries himself, the contrast between his imposing presence and the way he softens around you clearly too stark not to notice. But not everyone sees that side of him. To them, he's unapproachable. A walking danger sign. Not that he minds, he's used to it. Easier that way. One time he picked up your coffee order and managed to scare off the barista by telling her she got it wrong. Of course, he didn't mean to, but that poor woman must've thought a hitman had been sent after her and it was her last day on Earth. Simon doesn't even have to raise his voice, there's an unshakable authority in every word he speaks and in the way he carries himself. A man carved from stone. Both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. Second, not many people would ever dare confront him. His presence alone is enough to keep fools at bay. He knows you don't like making a scene—so he won't start one. They get the warning by witnessing him simply stand there, and they leave, too scared of being burned alive by his fiery gaze. After that, he'd want to make sure you're okay. Won't press if you brush it off, just squeezes your hand once. A simple question. You sure? If you squeeze back, Yeah, I'm sure. Still, he makes a note to check in properly later, when it's just the two of you, in the comfort of your home, where you can be as honest and vulnerable as you need to be. With him, you're safe. No one dares to look at you the wrong way. Hell, most don't even make eye contact, too afraid of whatever might be lurking under that mask. Nobody—while he's by your side. And Simon rarely leaves your side, only if necessary. A quick errand, a bathroom break. At the grocery store when you send him to help a kid grab cereal off the top shelf and you looking for the milk, or when you're out with your friends and have him fetch the drinks. It's fine, he'll bring them to you then go back to the boys, standing just far enough to give you space but close enough to keep an eye on things. But that's when it happens. He returns, drinks in hand. Sees you standing there, between your friends and some bastard who doesn't know when to quit. You learned from him, taking the role of the protector, holding your ground. But that makes you the easiest target. The guy leans in too close, lets his hand wander. A nasty comment, a brush against your shoulder, a grab at your waist, a touch— No. Simon doesn't sit this one out. Drops the drinks, makes a mess. Doesn't even think twice about it.

He's on the bastard in seconds, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him hard against the wall. Absolutely livid. Got him handled in a matter of seconds. “Walk away while you still can.” Doesn't matter if the guy puts up a fight or not, sorry fella will end up with just enough bruises to get taught a valuable lesson.

The second he's gone, Simon's focus is solely you. It's like the whole room ceases to exist. Pulls you to the side when you're visibly shaking. You can't downplay it this time, he sees right through you. He's not a man of many words, but his actions say enough (though that can only mean his words carry a heavy amount of weight when spoken). His eyes scan your face, your posture, every small tell you try to hide. It's instinct—years of training telling him to assess, analyze, act. But this isn't a battlefield, and you aren't a mission. His rough exterior, the ghost of a man he is, they all fade when he reaches for you. His touch betrays him. Warm and caring, meant to pull you back to him. "You alright, bird?" His voice is low, soothing hands trailing down your back. He doesn't rush you, doesn't let the moment pass too quickly. He lets you feel—lets you grab at him, tug on his shirt, squeeze his hand as tight as you need to. And when you do, he's already there, arms wrapped around you like armor.

A simple “Breathe, love. Nice and slow. I got you.” when you're shaking, legs giving out on you. He's a shield between you and the world, you swear you could lose yourself in those arms. “You're with me. Don't have to pretend.” when you let out a nervous laugh. He is not waiting until you get home to talk about this. Needs to know you're fine. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly when you try to avoid his gaze, “you're safe. Just focus on me, yeah?” He takes a slow, controlled breath and you follow his lead, drawing in a deep breath of your own, letting the tension start to ease. His eyes never leave your side (and that's the day his teammates see a side of their lieutenant they haven't met before).

Later—when you have a moment alone, the frustration creeps in. It shows in the way your steps land heavier. You set things down with a little too much force, your restless pacing filling the room. And Simon senses it. Drops everything he's doing and comes to you. Invites you into his embrace, slowly kneeling down and pressing his forehead against yours. “I know. You got every right to be pissed. Just don't carry it alone.” The weight of it all crashes down, every bottled-up emotion spilling as you cling to him. “That's right, doll. Just let it out.”

He's there. Always will be there. And you'll never have to face any of it on your own.

[ihaznoclue]

Request for a pining female reader and an oblivious Bayverse Leo who doesn’t believe that anyone could ever see him as a romantic partner, but when it hits him, he’s an immovable force from her life. Bonus points if the word languid is used to describe his kiss.

Pairings -> Bayverse Leo x Female Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Leo doesn't believe that anyone could ever see him as a romantic partner

Genre -> Fluff

LEONARDO

You made an effort to keep your eyes off of him

But every time Leo entered a room, his responsibility, his control, and his careful stillness pulled your attention like a magnet

He never saw how you melted around him, yet he held himself with the quiet ease of someone used to carrying a lot, a leader, guardian and a warrior

You’d bring him extra water after sparring, offer to patch the injuries he shrugged aside

You remembered how his voice sunk low and soft when he was trying to comfort someone, and how his eyes darkened when he was exhausted

You lived in those rare and frequently unsaid moments when he let his guard down

He never noticed, though

Not really..

You once gave him a towel after a training session and you brushed your fingertips against his

He looked aside after he froze for a moment, saying "thank you" as if the word didn't taste right

Don't hope, you told yourself.. How could he not see it, after all?

Something didn't break until months later, after too many nights spent lurking outside the dojo and too many occasions when he saw you staring at him

As he cleaned his blades, you remained silent as you watched him from the corner of his room

"Why do you stare at me that way all the time?" He questioned without lifting his gaze

You froze “Like what?”

“Like I’m someone worth… that kind of attention”

You didn’t answer, Not right away.. Just walked over to his bed

“Because you are” you said softly, fingers brushing over his knuckles

“You just don’t see it"

Leo’s eyes lifted, shock rippling through them like you’d struck him

“I’m not.. I’m not someone people want, not like that”

“You think I’ve been lingering around because I needed sword lessons?”

He was motionless as stone, breathing shallowly and staring at you

Then something changed, something clicked in him

It was slow when he moved

A single pace ahead, with an amazement that left your knees weak, his thumb trailed over your cheek as his palm crept up to cup the side of your face

Then..

He kissed you

It was Languid, like that he had all the time in the world, like he was tasting the idea of being wanted for the first time

His breath was shallow as if he was having trouble believing you were real

His forehead then pressed against yours as he retreated

"I was unaware" he muttered

"I kept it from myself, However, I'm not letting you go just yet"

Your silent pain suddenly turned into something solid...

Something specific..

Now Leo knows that you liked him for a while now and that you two are now official after a long time of waiting

-A<3

[run-its-moon]

A Song Once Forgotten - Chapter One

Pairing: BTS (OT7) X Reader

Word Count: 5380

Genre/Themes: Dragon!AU, Shifter!AU, Pioneer themes, Powers, War, possible/Eventual smut

Warning's: 18+ for gore, minor swearing, possible smut, Character Death (not OT7), Animal death, Religion/history being rewritten, topics that relate to climate change, Eventual War, humanity is kind of Oppressed,

Hi everyone! I'm really ecstatic about posting this on here, there is also some character profiles on my page to check out for a little bit of a sneak peak of whats going to be coming.

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Here in a clearing that a small settlement has taken upon to live in. Near the outskirts of the settlement, a small Spindly path leads up to a cabin in the woods, trees cluttered around the home, much further away from others. The cabin bears home to a Father and Daughter. Though her father is dying and the settlement has plans for her that have been set for generations. Will she leave or stay?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Mornings are the coldest this time of the year, with frost thickening the ground and leaves falling. Crops were always harvested before the frosty mornings came. Father used to be out chopping wood right as the sun rose, but with his sickness he stays inside near the fireplace. Saying his limbs need the warmth to stay loose. Although those topics hardly cross my mind that morning, while I'm stuffing my boots on. Keeping my layers thick, it may not be the cold stretch officially but it was nearly here.

I tugged my cloak to sit on my shoulders just right while I chewed the inside of my cheek, a habit I couldn’t break. Pushing a little on the wooden floor just to hear the creaking. Just as I reached for my bow I heard the creaking of a door. 

“y/n?” I looked over my shoulder to see father standing just outside of the door to his room. The sun hadn’t peaked up through the trees just yet, though there he stood still in his bedwear, with sleep clinging to his old face.

“Father?” I made my way around the lumber pile near the front door, standing nearly infront of him. I went to question why he was out of bed, instead being met with his calloused hand instead as he started to speak.

“Be careful out there today, yesterday your Uncle Ty said there was a bear lurking around close to the cattle.” he gripped my shoulder lovingly with a small squeeze. “I meant to say something yesterday but you know how I am.”

A smile gripped my lips, I more than appreciated that my father cared to warn me so early even though he was obviously tired.

He’s always been genuine. Even with his health getting worse every day. “Thank you father, I'll keep low, and stray from there.” he nodded, closing his eyes, and sighed. Over time his eyes have developed crows feet even more so since the last few years. Losing most of his muscle as well due to his sickness. But the old man held onto life the best he could, still working with wood and bone. Even when his body doesn't cooperate.

“I'm off to bed again, I’ll be up later on in the day.” he turned around while running a hand through his greying hair. “Bring back something for dinner, we're low again...” unable to clearly hear the last part he muttered.

“Pardon Father?” I asked, grabbing my bow off the old rack near the front door.

“Nothing Deer, I was just talking to myself.” I nodded at his retreating figure. Chewing on the side of my cheek while slinging the quiver over my shoulder. Once my quiver was secure I made sure to check my clothes and the bow before I put my arm through it to keep it on my shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon!” I let out a shout as I closed the door behind me. Stilling for a moment in the cold morning air I sighed. Taking note of the darkened ground around me.

I watched the sky for a moment, the rain clouds still grey from last night’s late shower. ‘Hopefully the hunt won't be too difficult with the mud.’ It definitely wasn’t ideal to hunt but even a rabbit would suffice. I licked my lips, “Rabbit stew sounds delicious right now.” Setting forward, I picked a direction away from the farm in the settlement to enter the depths of the forest. 

The brush was usually thicker during the warmer parts of the year, but now it was near barren with nothing but some gold-yellow leaves left. Although we live so far from the rest of the settlement it was better this way, living close to the woods. The settlement wasn’t that busy often, especially since there’s not many people that come to and fro to trade with, were truly just a group of humans grouping together for survival.

I love my life, though with my fathers declining health it wasn’t perfect. He had some issue the healer couldn’t pin point, all they know is that it drains him more and more. They say he doesn’t have too much longer, maybe a year or so, but each cold stretch took more of his body away. 

Choosing to ignore the thoughts of impending doom I focused fully on the world around me to begin my hunt. 

-

I Watched a rabbit closely with an eagle eye, pinpointed on every movement it made. The rabbit chewed on the lower leaves of a bush that had yet to turn gold. Keeping my feet light on the soil, while avoiding the twigs and large branches on the brush around me. ‘I can't scare it away.’ I think to myself almost as if it was a matra. I pulled one of my arrows out of the quiver, notching the arrow into the bow and aimed towards its back. Keeping my arms completely still, I hadn't noticed when I started holding my breath, but I didn't move a muscle.

I kept still for a moment, holding the bow close to my lowered body as I simply watched the rabbit eat. Just as it lifted its body up to sniff I let the arrow loose. 

I watched as the arrow struck the rabbits neck. Releasing the breath I was holding. Slinging my bow back around my body while walking towards the rabbit, still kicking its feet before it stilled.

I Grabbed the rabbit by the back feet, and pulled out the arrow. “May your life be blessed, the trip to your after life be quick, may you rest easy knowing you gave purpose.” then tied the rabbit by the feet with a string of twine after my prayer for the catch. ‘Thankfully I saw it, Father will be quite glad about this.’

Putting the rabbit under my arm for the walk home. The forest felt as though it loomed larger than life, the branches swayed far above. An odd creak would echo through the forest. it was unsettling with all the noises, the wind was definitely stronger. Bringing cold bursts with it and crow calls, making all the sounds feel so much closer.  

I'll just stop by the settlement quickly after getting home, I don't particularly want to be out in this cold for much longer anymore. Even with my lined cloak I could still feel the odd burst of cold fly past me. Shivering more than that morning, the sun was still up watching it peak through the near barren branches. 

My heart dropped with a sudden rumble of a roar striking the silent forest. I dropped to the ground hiding in the brush. Holding a breath, above me so far above, I watched the clouds caress    the flying shape of what could only be a dragon. Shocking me that it was almost the same size as the clouds, I watched it roar again before veering northwards. 

“Oh my world..” I'd never seen one with my own eye’s rather I only heard tales of them from others in my village. One of the newer members said one burnt down his old settlement, which is why he came from the forest burned and scraped up carrying nothing but a small bag. Others claimed they were vicious cruel monsters with no thoughts or feelings.

No one truly knows.

I allowed my heart to slow back to a normal pace before I moved forward. Though I couldn't hold myself back from looking up towards the sky wondering if I'll ever see another dragon in my lifetime.

-

My Walk ended by the sight of the wooden cabin, just being able to see the shaky two story building from my spot near the border of the woods. I trudged through the little bit of the woods I had left before I reached the clearing. Taking my time before I had to go inside. “ I should mention how little prey there is to hunt out, especially with how soon the cold stretch will be here.” muttering to myself as I breached the line between the forest and home. 

Once inside I made sure to lock the door with the wooden beam, usually father didn't bother to lock it all too often but it should be more often with his health. “Why didn’t you lock the door again?” I called out towards the back room where I knew he’d be. Huddled up beside the fireplace whittling some wood. 

“Because I didn't want to get up to unlock it once you got back deer.” I turned around like deja vu to see him standing leaning against the door frame. Rolling my eyes while I hung my bow and quiver up on the rack he made years ago.

“I see you caught a rabbit, run into any bears?” he laughed a little, before clutching his side, missing his look of pain i just smiled while i took my cloak off. Hanging it up beside the bow. “Why don’t we sit by the fire for a moment?”

Shaking my head while walking into the Disheveled mess of a kitchen. “Can’t I’m going into town and see Aunt Petunia and trade this pelt with Ivern for some carrots.”

“Why don't you turn the hide into some new boot linings?” I stopped myself from giving him a dirty look and just sighed.

 ‘If he's not mentioning the dragon from earlier maybe he didn't see it..’ I smiled to myself briefly before facing my father again. “I think getting carrots will be better, I���m going to go out for a while tomorrow like last year.” he grimaced then opened his mouth to speak, but i interrupted him. “Yes i already know what you're going to say, but it's better if i go hunt down a deer, the cold stretch will be here sooner then later and it's better if i do this now. Father please you can’t do it anymore and it’s better done sooner than later.” 

My father trailed into the kitchen, leaning against a wobbly table as he spoke. “Your boots are old, and yes that's fine just make sure to ask petunia for one of her horses so you're not walking back with a dead carcass.” Then he bent over to pull out a tuff of fur from a boot. “And yet you tell me these are fine for the cold?” I rolled my eyes at him while I reached around to grab a knife. 

“The boots are fine father, why did you do that anyways.” He had this smug look on his face while he moved around me to grab the other rabbit pelt.

“Just go get new boots, deer you’re crazy if you think you’ll last out there.” I shrugged and ignored him, continuing to cut up the rabbit I had in front of me.

He grunted and left the kitchen. “I'll just make a hat from the pelt father so don't fret too much.” No response from him left me peacefully cutting up the rabbit and prepping the stew to cook on the fire place for later. I may not have eaten lunch or breakfast but he didn't need to know that.

“Father excuse me old man.” I bumped his shoulder with my hip while I carried the old stone pot full of water and rabbit pieces. 

“Oh now you're mentioning my age? Are we going to talk about you being 20 and unmarried yet?” Two years passed the traditional marriage age, with no plans on it either.

“I'm not that old, I haven't even killed a caribou yet.” What I really wanted to say was that I just saw a dragon for the first time in my 20 years of life. Yet I kept my mouth shut and just smiled at him. 

Before I realized it the sun was past the middle point, The hide was wrapped with twine and under my arm for a trip to the settlement. Hopefully the walk would end up too long, my bones felt a little weak with how much i had travelled already. “Father? Could you keep an eye on the stew please? I'm going to head down to the settlement and trade this with Ivern.” I headed back towards the door, then shoved my feet into my boots and threw my cloak on a little bit in a hurry. I was already ready by the time I had heard from him.

Rolling my eyes I simply left. Shutting the door behind me, I made sure the door was closed a second time before I left for the settlement. The trail to the settlement was a little worn path in the ground from the years we have travelled to see the other’s.

Although the settlement was usually nicer during the warm stretches, with some flowers around the homes people built, especially around the pond in the middle. 

The walk was over with my fast paced walk because of how badly i wanted to get out of the cold. Standing just at the entrance of the clearing they had created before I was even a thought. Around 13 cabins sprawled about, along with a few garden patches at the backs of them. Everyone around is fairly self sufficient, we can't grow crops very well on the rockier terrain where father has his cabin. Usually everyone is willing to trade with us since father creates some of the best wood working in town, he gets commissioned often, but with his health he no longer does larger pieces like he used to, and with no black smith anymore it gets difficult to get decent tools for his work. But I like to believe we're comfortably living, even if it is all we know how to live.

Not far from where I stood, there was a smaller pen with a single cow and donkey, the two of them moved towards the gate when they saw me. The donkey was doing his little call to me while I moved towards the pen. “Hi guys! How are you two doing?.” The donkey, henry and his friend tulip who was an all white milk cow, the two of them were owned by the newer resident of the settlement coming here around 4 years ago. He was a nice fellow only a few years older than me. I got closer to the fence line, where tulip immediately turned around to try and lick my face. “Tulip! I don't want you to slobber on me girl.” laughing while I tried to pet the top of her head while avoiding her tongue.

“I gotta go you too, bye henry bye tulip.” A smile was on my face while I pet the two of them. The house next to it was Iverns.  Setting at a quick pace again, the sooner I was home the better. I really hated going to the settlement without my father, but it was becoming more and more common as the year got colder. 

Iverns home was a single story cabin with a small deck on the front, only a little bit off the ground but it made a huge difference when it got muddy from the snow. Stepping up onto the wooden planks of the deck, then knocking on the door for a few beats. A small grunt came from inside then he was at the door, holding it open just a crack until he saw me. 

“Hi Ivern.” I waved with a small smile before he opened the door full. Eye’s lit up at the sight of me. 

“Y/N! What do I owe the pleasure of seeing out today?” He then moved to standing on the porch with me. I knew he was looking for a rabbit pelt for his wife, so I was really hoping to trade him for carrots. I held up the rabbit pelt with a small smile on my face as I watched his face light up.

“It's got a nice density, and I know your wife likes rabbit pelts, bet she’d like this one.” The rabbit was a nice brown colour, and with how I hit it earlier with my arrow little damage was done to the pelt. 

“You have me there y/n what do you want for it.” putting the pelt back under my arm while I pretended to think for a moment.

“Carrots.” was all i said for him to turn back inside to go get what i asked for. 

Moving to sit on the end of the porch. I watched a duck swim in the pond from across the settlement. Every so often it would go under water then come back up, keeping myself occupied by watching the bird while I waited for Ivern to return.

“y/n?”

‘Shit.’ To the left of me stood Alexander, one of the reasons I avoid going to the settlement without my father. He was an overly annoying boy around my age. A thin, scrawny one with a sunken look to his face. Which was ironic because of who his parents were. I waved at him, not bothering to look away from the duck again.

The floorboards creaked a little and before I knew it he was sitting inches away from me. I quickly moved away from him. 

“Hi, is there something you need help with?” now looking directly at him. ‘Why doesn't he ever take the hint? Maybe that dragon should come back and eat me where I sit.’

He was average looking in all aspects, but if he’d put some muscle on himself maybe he would look more appealing but the sunken look on his face would always be unsettling to me. 

“No not of that sort, just haven't seen you in awhile. How have you been?” 

‘Ivern, save me please.’ I mentally groaned to myself. Trying to not grind my teeth with how uncomfortable I was.

“I'm doing well. Thank you, but I'm waiting for Ivern, then I'm off to my uncles for something quickly before going home.”  he nodded, barely able to see him out of the corner of my eye.

“It's also getting darker, I can also walk you back home.” It was still a little while after sun high. 

“No thank you, I appreciate it though.”

“Oh, come on y/n how would you be able to defend yourself if that bear showed up?”

‘I guess everyone here didn't see or hear the dragon then. But he's fully aware I can hunt, I've dropped off plenty of meat to trade with his parents.’

“No truly it's okay, i’ve got the self defence covered, don't worry.” now chewing on the side of my mouth. I tried occupying myself by going through my bag but he continued talking.

“Oh surely y/n-”

“y/n! I've got the carrots.” 

‘What took so long Ivern, I was about to smack the boy.’ Hurrying to Ivern so quickly I almost tripped on the lip of the porch.

“Thanks Ivern! Really appreciate it! I hope the wife likes the rabbit pelt! By the way, I caught it this morning." taking the carrots, i walked away. 

“Oh alexander! I was looking for you.” I glanced back towards the two, then watched as Alexander begrudgingly agree to whatever it was that Ivern wanted from him. 

Petunia or as I prefer to call her Aunt Petunia, was married to my fathers best friend Ty, technically we are  family somewhat in a way. With a little more pep in my step I made my way across the settlement to their house. They owned most of the horses in the settlement, especially after my mother passed. 

Their Cabin was smaller than Ivern’s, only 3 rooms with a little out house in the back. I made my way to their front door, knocking politely while I waited. 

I waited for a few moments outside as I listened to Petunia yell at Ty from what I could only assume was their kitchen. A mere moment later a tall man with a greying beard and a knitted hat stepped outside.

“Uncle Ty? I was wondering if aunt petunia was around, I have a question for the both of you.” He nodded then turned around still holding open the front door.

“Pea! y/n’s here!” A few shuffles came from inside, then before I knew it Petunia was warping her arms around me and ruffling my hair. 

“Hi honey! How are things!” I pulled back from the hug a few inches to get a good look at her face. Petunia, a red headed woman that's just starting to get her grey hairs, though her face was beautifully freckled. The freckles covered the entirety of her face, and with her slightly pointed nose I always thought she was beautiful, especially her green eyes.

I smiled at the woman again before she released me from her death grip of a hug. “Things have been good Auntie, Father’s watching the stew while I come ask you guys something.”

“Must something pretty important for you to come all this way just to ask a question?” Nervously I started running a hand through my hair. 

“Well I also got carrots!” holding up the 3 carrots I got from Ivern. ‘I'm pretty sure he gave us an extra one too.’ Lowering the carrots back down to my side. “I wanted to know if i could borrow one of the horses for a hunting trip, father says its the only way i can go.” mustering up a nervous smile waiting for their reaction.

Ty and Petunia both looked at each other for a moment, Tys eyes squinting for a moment before he nodded. “Yes you can, just make sure they get enough food and water please. Meet me here tomorrow morning as well and I'll saddle up with you.” Petunia was wiping her hands on the front of her dress while she talked. Then she turned back to look at me again. “I'll have it decided tomorrow which one you’ll take with you.”

“Thank you auntie!” I smiled at her before we both enveloped the other into a hug again, she kissed the side of my temple before letting go. 

“Please stay safe honey, it's dangerous out there and it's getting colder.” I nodded at the two of them before walking away. I could hear them both go back inside a few moments later. 

Suddenly I felt a grip on my upper arm, shocked a little I turned to see Ty holding my arm in a fairly tight grip. “y/n we should talk, me and your father-”

“If it's about me being married I'll pass.” I pulled, more like ripped my arm out of his grasp. 

“y/n you need to realize you don’t have much time before-”

“No I will not aheed to the traditions-”

“y/n you are not above traditions and rules. You must realize that before he is dead. All your parents want from you is a good husband.” At this point we were in a staring match. Though I took a moment and looked away. 

“No, I may not be above tradition. But I will not wear a dress, I don't want to stop hunting, I don't want to be stuck in this settlement with a man that doesnt love me!” I turned around to break out into a sprint. ‘How fucking dare he, its not his place.’ 

“y/n come back here were not done this fucking conversation!”

-

I got home a little later than I would have liked, exhaustion already getting to me from the event’s of today. I reached the front door a little more sluggish than earlier, hunger getting to me finally. With my one hand cramping from holding onto the carrots so tight, and the last bit of adrenaline leaving my system finally. 

Even with the sky starting to get dark, as the older folks say it gets darker up here near the mountains compared to the settlements near the beaches.

“Father, how's the pot looking?” I asked the moment I walked into the cabin. The fireplace was still going from what I could hear. 

In the back room my father sat on his stool beside the fireplace, hunched over and staring down at the pot. “Almost done y/n. Deer, come sit down and look at the fire with me.”

“In a moment father, I'm going to cut the carrots to add.” In the kitchen I cut up a carrot with a knife, chopping them into thinner slices, leaving the other two carrots in a basket in one of the cupboards. Dumping the handful of carrot slices into the pot near my father, I then moved to sit beside him. 

“Father, how was your day?” he gently smiled to himself before meeting my eyes. 

“It was well deer, thank you for asking.”

“I'm glad father, Oh and that boy alexander came up to me today again. Saying that he’d walk me home because of the bear.” laughing a little before I continued. “But Ivern saved me from his miserable chatter, and took him inside claiming he was looking for him. That boy's insufferable father.” his eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled. 

“y/n I know you dislike that boy but give him some slack he's got a big family at home." I snorted at his response. 

“So? Doesn't make much of a difference when he assumes I can't take care of myself father.”

“I suppose you're right, deer.” I chewed on my cheek at the mention of Alexander's family. I simply nodded in response.

Me and father sat beside each other, my hand on his knee while we waited for the carrots to sink into the soup. I wasn't sure how long we stayed like this, silently enjoying the company of each other. With the fire roaring in the background licking at the bottom of the pot.

Our dinner was the same, eating out of hand carved bowls. Sipping on the stew while watching the fire. He didn't move from his stool, and i didnt move from my spot on the floor beside him. Life felt perfectly normal, and that itch on my side left me alone while I enjoyed the peace. 

After dinner we both went to bed, his room was on the main floor, the door way into there was in the living room, while I climbed the stairs to head to bed. “y/n, i love you goodnight.” he called out, smiling to myself before replying.

“Love you too father, goodnight.” 

-

The next morning i was rushing around to pack, though when i looked out one of the windows there was already snowfall, a nervous ghost of a feeling crept up my spine at the sight. Doubling up on pants and two shirts was my solution to it. 

Though I still struggled to not feel nervous, biting on the inside of my cheek. While I packed up some food, which included a half carrot and some leftover chicken jerky from earlier that season. I was aware of my limits for food and how to cook food at a fire, i would be self sufficient when it called for it. 

Packing up a satchel with the food and two hunting knives for my excursion. I also made sure to bundle up more than yesterday, putting on my thicker fur cloak, and gloves. 

“I didn't expect the snow to fall so early this year.” The moment I stepped outside it was my first thought, usually we had a few more days for all the leaves to fall from the sky but oddly enough the cold stretch already began.

Though I ignored the nervous itching on my side. I needed to leave for Petunia and ty’s soon if I wanted to be gone before sunrise. ‘Even if Ty pissed me off, I need to head out.’

It was increasingly colder compared to yesterday, but now I stood in front of the gates to Petunia's pasture. It wasn't very large. Just big enough to hold 6 horses without getting too close to Alexander's family’s cattle pen behind it. 

When I opened the gate a few of the horses looked up from their hay. Though i stood there for a moment in the cold, letting the snow whip around my cloak. Watching the small streaks of sunrise above the tree’s. “y/n!” I turned quickly to see petunia leaning against the fence. 

“Hi Auntie, did you decide on which horse I'd bring?” she smiled softly, looking back towards the back end of the pasture. 

“Well there's that big buckskin named Adonis, The red spotted one blue, she's a good girl but she's a little small, Rocky is a little out there. Hera’s got a foal coming in a few month’s at the start of planting. I'll need your help with her. She's that round palomino. The last two are blue and hera’s from two years, do you remember that.” while petunia talked to me i had watched each of them Blue looked like a good choice, even if she was a broodmare. I also have ridden hera before she was usually a really good mare.

“Of course I remember those two, I named blue’s foal that year comet. I'll take adonis if that's okay? Rocky almost kicked me before while I was bringing them hay." Petunia was standing beside me, arm warped around my shoulder in a half embrace. 

“He got too excited that time I'm guessing?” Nodding to her, while we walked over to Adonis, up close he was a little bit bigger than I am, his withers just above my head, but his black mane and tail were a beautiful striking contrast from the snow. 

“Hi boy.” she chuckled, smiling brightly at me while I held my hand out to the stallion, he simply nuzzled my hand before going back to his hay.  We both smiled at each other, while she pretended to wrap a leed over his neck to have him follow us.

We stopped near a small wooden storage box behind her house. Adonis had followed us the entire way close behind her. “I'll help you saddle him, auntie don't worry.” I waved off her protests and saddled him up myself, leaving the bit for last.

“How long do you think you'll be y/n?” I stilled once she asked. ‘How long was I going to be?’ shrugging at her while I slipped a foot into the stirrups. We adjusted the stirrups once I was seated, giving her a nod once they were corrected.

“I'm unsure as of now, though I won't be returning till I hunt something large enough to last.” A firm nod was all I received from her. We stared at each other for a long moment, silence so loud my ears rang. Suddenly a single caw let loose from behind us. Turning in the saddle only to see a crow, huddled on the branch of a singular tree near us. It shifted, time froze, feeling the little beady eyes upon my soul before it disappeared into the cold morning.

“That was strange.” Petunia said before I could get my bearings together and startled me. I swung around to face her, she was smiling a little. But her brows were creased, barely visible under her bangs. I sighed before looking down at my hands, she was right it was in fact a little odd. 

Nevertheless i must still leave’.  I gave Petunia the best smile I could muster. “I'll be off now, i don't think i'll be gone long with this guy.” A simple curt nod was all I received before me and Adonis took off, heading northward towards the forest.

[inspirationalucky]

EPIC: THE ITHACA SAGA PROMPTS & STARTERS.

of course, go ahead and change names/pronouns/words/etc as necessary to fit your muse or the situation! please do not add more lines/prompts to this post!

The Challenge

"I'm supposed to choose a suitor."

"They don't know that every night I unthread all the work I've done."

"I'd rather lie than allow them to think they've won."

"I never thought that I'd resort to this."

"I don't know much longer I'll last"

"Could it be some kind of sign that my world is all about to change?"

"Is it finally time for the challenge I arranged?"

"Though I never thought that it would come to this, just know I'll be here buying you time."

"Time is fleeting, it's running out."

"Time to be the man of the house."

"Let the arrow fly once you know that your aim is true."

"I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you."

"Though I never thought that this would be the lengths we go for love, I would not have it any other way."

"Though I never thought that it would end like this, just know I'll be here waiting."

Hold Them Down

"Screw this competition. We've been here for hours."

"No more delays."

"Can't you guys see we're being played?"

"This is how they hold us down while we slowly age."

"Where in the hell is our pride and our rage?"

"Here and now there's a chance for action."

"We can take control."

"Burn it down to ashes!"

"Channel the fire inside your soul!"

"Haven't you noticed who's missing?"

"I heard today he comes back to town."

"I say we wait 'till he arrives."

"When he docks his ship we can breach it."

"Let us leave now, today we can strike"

"Hold him down while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones."

"Cut him down into tiny pieces."

"When the crown wonders where the prince is, only the ocean and I will know."

Odysseus

"For twenty years I've suffered every punishment and pain."

"I come back and find my palace desecrated, sacked like Troy!"

"I... have had... enough."

"Somewhere in the shadows lurks an agile, deadly foe"

"We have the advantage! We've the numbers and the might."

"You don't understand it, this man plans for every fight!"

"Keep your head down! He's aiming for the torches!"

"Our weapons... they're missing!"

"He's using the darkness to hide his approaches."

"We're empty-handed, up against an archer."

"Our only chance is to strike him in the darkness."

"We know these halls! The odds can be tilted!"

"You think I don't know my own palace? I built it!"

"You've destroyed the serpent's head. Now the rest of us are no longer a threat!"

"Forgive us instead so that no more blood is shed."

"Let's have open arms instead!"

"Damn, he's more cunning than I assumed."

"While we were busy plotting, he hid our weapons inside this room."

"I find it hard to believe that the sharpest of kings left his armory unlocked."

"Now that we have armed ourselves, let's make the bastard rot."

"Throw down those weapons and I ensure you'll be spared."

"After seeing what the King will do to us? We wouldn't dare."

"I don't want to hurt you, but trust me, I've come prepared."

"Your very presence has doomed the king, young prince. We don't fight fair."

"We've got company, and he's made a grave mistake!"

"There's a chance for us to win."

"We can still defeat the King if we all attack the Prince!"

"Capture him! He's our greatest chance."

"Make the King obey our command, and if he won't I'll break the kid's hands."

"Mercy? Mercy!?"

"My mercy has long since drowned. It died to bring me home."

"As long as you're around, my family's fate is left unknown."

"You plotted to kill my son!"

"All of you are going to die!"

"You have filled my heart with hate."

"All of you who have done me wrong? This will be your fate!"

I Can't Help But Wonder

"All my life, I'd have died to meet you."

"I thought about your name so much it hurts."

"For twenty years, I dreamt of how I'd greet you."

"Now you're here, and I can't find the words."

"All my life, I'd have died to know you."

"I never could outgrow you."

"I can't help but wonder what your world must be."

"All this time I've wondered if you'd embrace me as your own."

"For so long I've felt alone."

"Look how much you've grown!"

"Oh, my boy, sweetest joy I've known"

"Twenty years ago, I held you in my arms."

"Oh, how time has flown."

"I used to say I'd capture wind and sky for you."

"I held you in my arms, prepared to die for you."

"I can only wonder what your world has been."

"All I've ever wanted was to reunite with my own."

"For twenty years we've wandered, but today you're not alone."

"I'm finally home!"

"You were never one for hellos."

"I can't help but wonder what this world could be if we all held each other with a bit more empathy."

"I can't help but feel like I led you astray."

"What if there's a world where we don't have to live this way?"

"If that world exists it's far away from here. It's one I'll have to miss."

"I've got one endeavor: there's a girl I have to see"

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?

"Is it you? Have my prayers been answered?"

"Is it really you standing there, or am I dreaming once more?"

"You look different... your eyes look tired."

"Your frame is lighter, and your smile torn."

"Is it really you, my love?"

"I am not the man you fell in love with."

"I am not your kind and gentle husband, and I am not the love you knew before."

"Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done?"

"Would you love me all the same?"

"I know that you've been waiting for love."

"What kind of things did you do?"

"I hurt more lives than I can count on my hands, but all of that was to bring me back to you."

"I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat."

"Do you realize what you have asked me?"

"Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him you!"

"I will fall in love with you over and over again."

"I don't care how, where, or when. No matter how long it's been, you're mine."

"Don't tell me you're not the same person!"

"You're always my husband, and I've been waiting for you."

[knightjpg]

landslide | chapter 3

chapter tags: (light) stalking, alcohol/alcohol consumption, reader has a toxic boyfriend

prev | next

Just the one time. 

You won't even notice, Ghost reasons to himself. He'll just be another spectre haunting London; a phantom passing through. Just once. Just to see— 

To soothe. Yes, that's what it is. He's just fulfilling a final duty, a tribute to the woman who made his brother smile like he'd never seen a day of hardship in his life. 

It's not hard to track you down. Years may have gone by, but Ghost has a photo, a name, and a bloodhound's tenacity for sniffing out the details. The anonymous bustle of London loses out against his patience, and really, people are creatures of habit. They seek comfort in the known; in their routine. 

Ghost observes yours. From afar, at first—a shadow lurking in alleyways you give a wide berth to. This is good. This is how it's meant to be. We get dirty, Price's voice echoes in his skull. So the world stays— 

After a week it gets harder to justify. You're alive and well. Have a steady job and a roof over your head. A boyfriend. You're not rude enough to drunk twats calling after you when get off work, but you clutch the closest thing to pepper spray in your hand after dark.  

Smart girl. 

It's time to step away. Simon died; a tombstone doesn't fit into the constraints of your daily life. He's let go before. He can—has to—do it again. 

“Sure, honey. Whatever you say.” 

... 

Just— 

Just the one time. 

Ghost pretends he's doing a stakeout. There's a mission, and there's a target. Simple. Easy. Muscle memory. 

When you walk through the café door, bell jingling against the wood, he's supposed to be casual. Uninterested; aloof—just another guy getting his daily fix. He knows he stands out with his bulk, but it's London: who's going to care? No one's going to think twice about his being here. He just has to keep it cool, go through the motions of reading his book without picking up any of the words. Then, naturally, look up— 

(sure, honey—) 

—and. Fuck. He is so unprepared. 

You keep your hair a little shorter these days. Still no ring on your finger—Simon breathes out slow—but a pendant around your neck has taken up a fixed presence. A gift? It's hard to tell. 

You're a little older, sure, but you're so— 

You're so... 

He ducks his head just in time, ballcap throwing his face into shadow to avoid your curious glance. Caught staring. He curses at himself—is he a fucking professional or what? 

Your name is called out, and you take your order with a grateful thanks. Ghost chances a peek while you're preoccupied. 

Christ. You're so pretty. 

Not just pretty—beautiful. Not like how he remembers, but also exactly how he remembers. The way you shift your weight, the quick gesture of your head when you shake the hair out of your face. Your smile, a flash of teeth. 

It's a perfect fit. A lost puzzle piece slots into place, lines up a bridge between the past with the present— 

“Oh, I'm so glad you're here,” you tell him with a sigh, plopping down heavily in the chair beside him. “If anyone asks me to dance I have a sprained ankle, okay?” 

Simon gives you a solemn nod, eyes sliding from the dancefloor to your figure bending down to untie your shoes. Your hair is done up beautifully for today, and he's overcome with the desire to reach out and touch the nape of your neck. 

He forces it down and watches Tommy and Beth swaying to a slow song, eyes closed. You sigh, flexing your toes. 

“Hurt?” Simon asks. 

“Just tired,” you smile. “Beth's cousin are nice, but every time I sit they—oh, God, there's one of them.” 

You unsuccessfully try to hide behind Simon's broad shoulders. One of your hands presses against his arm for balance, small imprint of warm through his nicest white blouse. 

Simon's heart lurches. He leans into your touch like a lodestone. 

“She's got a sprained ankle, mate,” he tells Beth's cousin before he can open his mouth. “Gotta rest.” 

The boy swallows a thinly veiled tsk when Simon speaks up, then tries again. “I'm sorry, love, was I too rough on you? Do you want me to get you ice? Or a drink? Or—” 

“Got it handled here,” Simon cuts in curtly.  

Simon likes Beth. Likes her family fine, too—he and Tommy grew up on a low bar, but still he can see they're alright folk. And Simon would never start shit on their wedding day. He's got better manners than that. 

But people get caught up in weddings, spurred on by booze and a festive mood. They grow loose-lipped, handsy, jovial. 

Simon's more than happy to put cousin what'shisname in his place should he forget it. 

The cousin lingers for a moment, but eventually tucks his tail between his legs and sets off to the drinks bar. Simon eyes his retreat warily. 

“Oh,” you sigh, sagging against Simon's back for a moment before pulling yourself upright. “Thanks so much. You're my hero.” 

—a wildflower in his barren desertscape. 

 

He'd wondered if it would hurt any more than it does every other day of his life. A living, breathing reminder of everything that he's lost; Ghost is not immune to pain. Even corpses bleed. 

He finds it doesn't matter. Whatever he might have felt is drowned out by something else, a lighthouse smacking him in the face with the same blinding light he chased when he crawled out of the dirt— 

Familiar. Quickly followed by, mine. Something that earns its intimacy simply by being known; hauntingly so, but he wants it. Wants to have it, wants to allow himself this smidge of nostalgia. 

(You're my hero.) 

Self-denial pushed to the extreme rebounds off the wall and crashes against him like a wave. Saltwater mixes with old dusty sediment, rips out dead old roots as it pulls him down, a landslide— 

And it's trouble. Ghost knows it. But— 

He's always had an appetite for the thrill of danger, careful, might get hurt;  

and he figures one more scar won't make much of a difference. 

----------

The alcohol tastes bitter on your tongue. You swirl the liquid in your glass and wish you could jump into the miniature whirlpool; to simply let the disappointment and the hurt and the insecurity all be washed away.  

Your phone beep...beep...beeps until: 

“The person you are attempting to call cannot be reached at this time. To leave a message, press—” 

You shove it back in your pocket with an angry twist of your mouth. That's four times for this month alone. How many was it last month? And the one before that? 

Maybe you should stop counting. 

The alcohol does the opposite from soothing your bad mood. You know your limits and steer clear of that line; over the years you've found it's never worth the headache or the nausea the next day.  

Another drink and things will start getting fuzzier, which means it's time to call a friend or a cab and leave. Be smart. Be careful. 

Your fingers dig into the glass. You stay seated on your stool.  

Maybe you should've accepted when a bloke offered you a drink. Sorry, you'd smiled. Waiting for my boyfriend. 

Fuck your boyfriend. 

The spite sours as soon as it wells up, leaving guilt in its wake. What's wrong with you? You'd never cheat on Dave. You've been the subject of that kind of betrayal too often; know the pain too well. You won't be that kind of person. 

You down the last of your drink, just about to get up when a large man wearing a dark hoodie seats himself on the stool next to you. 

You pause. It's not busy; there's plenty of empty stools to choose from. Coincidence or a sign of interest? Would it be rude to leave immediately after he's sat down?  

Would it be worse to wait for him to say something instead? 

Hesitation lies heavily in your stomach, alcohol and loneliness making you feel unsure, slow. The indecision keeps your eyes down on your empty glass while you fiddle with a coaster and tell yourself to stop being so self-absorbed. It doesn't mean anything; it's not about you. People can come to the bar just for a— 

“Drink?” the stranger asks you. 

Your eyes flit up. 

He's wearing a ballcap—go Manchester—which, under the dim lights of the bar, obscures most of his features. Still, you catch the end tail of a nasty scar running down his cheek. 

This is where trepidation should come in. A sixth sense of self-preservation telling you in red letters do not touch. Do not go here. 

Do not trespass. 

But: 

something about him is familiar.  

Maybe that's why you're less guarded. Less careful. You're lonely, abandoned, stood up; one last drink won't hurt. Will it? Because, really— 

It's just a drink, you tell yourself. If he tries anything you'll make a scene.  

God knows you've got plenty of pent-up anger to let loose. 

“Sure, okay,” you say, and the man waves the bartender over. You watch him pour the drink, and offer the stranger a half-hearted smile as you raise your glass in cheers. 

“You alone?” 

“I have a boyfriend,” you say, trying for casual nonchalance and ending up somewhere close to abandoned cat on the roadside. There's even a tremor at the end of your voice to go with it. 

And you thought tonight wouldn't get any more pathetic. 

The man tilts his head. “He gonna come pick y’up?” 

You tap your phone's screen out of habit: no notifications. You shake your head. The bar suddenly feels too loud, too sharp; too real. You realise that until now you'd still clung to the idea that Dave's caller ID would pop up any moment, that any second the next face walking into the bar would be his. 

It's not going to happen. 

You know it's not. But all by yourself you could still believe—lure yourself into the protective delusion that Dave wouldn't stand you up again. Not after missing your anniversary dinner, surely. 

Your throat closes against a sob clawing its way up. Christ. You try to wrestle it down, cover your quivering lips with a hand. You're drunk. Drunk and acting like an idiot— 

Your stranger does a little hum. “He a twat?” 

The delivery is so dry you hiccup a strange laugh-sob. “Some—sometimes. Maybe it's my fault. I don't know what I—” You stop yourself and breathe. Cling to the shred of sobriety left in you. “Sorry. You don't care about any of this.” 

The bloke shifts on his stool, turning his torso more towards you and leaning one of his big forearms on the tacky bar as he does. The end of a tattoo sleeve peeks out from his hoodie, abstract lines old and sun-faded.  

“Could listen.” 

You blink, and— 

there's your apartment, your front door, the jingle of keys. Body moving on autopilot, dropping bag and shoes and slumping onto your bed. 

Your mind is slow, hazy; muddled by fatigue and cocktails. How'd you get home again? 

A flash of obnoxious radio music. The dangle of car freshener against a dark windshield. 

That's right. Had one drink too much, and called— 

You frown against your sheets. Called... 

A low voice in your ear, telling you to mind your feet. Not Dave—bigger than Dave. One strong arm keeping you from wobbling, and the other opening the door to a cab. Smelled nice. Safe. A friend? 

“I saw Simon's boots in the hall. Did he stop by?” 

“He did. Came to save me from Tommy's hovering.” 

You finish pouring Beth's smoothie—thick, fruity, calorie-dense—and hand it to her. She sighs in relief, carefully shifting in her seat so she doesn't jostle Joseph while she's breastfeeding. 

“Thanks so much. God,” and she takes a big sip, “that's good. Everyone tells you breastfeeding makes you hungry, but oh my god, it makes you hungry.” 

You laugh a little, patting her leg. “You're doing great, mumma.” 

“I hope so.” Beth looks down at Joseph, stroking his blond wispy hairs. “We're thinking about moving. Not for a while, but—maybe next year.” Beth gestures to the little flat apartment. “Tommy's been doing really well at work, and we want Joseph to be able to run around in a yard.” 

As if summoned, the front door opens and closes. Boots thump against the doormat; the coathanger rattles with the weight of thick padded jackets. 

“I think that's a lovely idea,” you smile. “Just let me know and I'll help.” 

Beth's face softens. “Thank you.” 

She looks exhausted, but extraordinarily happy at the same time. You're so happy for her—so happy for both of them—yet can't help the occasional tug of envy. You're not sure if you want children, not yet, but the look of devotion in Tommy's eyes when he crosses the room to kiss Beth and Joseph's cheeks is hard not to want for yourself. 

“Alright?” 

You lift your eyes to Simon. He looks freshly windswept from their walk, hair mussed and cheeks ruddy. For some reason it makes you feel— 

You duck your head, nodding. “Yeah.”  

You suddenly feel a little shy, out of place. To give yourself something to do you collect empty cups to put away—and stumble on one of Joseph's toys lying around. 

Simon's arm shoots out to steady you, and in your attempt to balance yourself you bump headfirst into his chest. You quickly remove yourself, cheeks burning. 

“Thanks...” 

In between dreaming and waking, the memory of a voice murmurs in your ear;  

“Steady now.” 

----------

Ghost watches the cab drive away with a pensive expression. 

You're not happy. 

He watched you for over an hour, his pretty lonely girl sipping fruity cocktails at the bar. Waiting for the ungrateful cunt to bother showing up. 

Because your boyfriend is an ungrateful cunt, going by the way you nearly cried into his arms. Simon hadn't been privy to the details, lived off second-hand stories from Tommy and sometimes Beth, and there's too many gaps in his memories to be sure. 

But he knows— 

I'm tired of the shitty boyfriends. 

Beth's playful smile loops in his head. Ghost feels sorry for you, and yet— 

some sick part of him is pleased.  

Relieved. 

You need him. Haven't learned yet to winnow the wheat from the chaff; can't see that your precious time and effort is wasted on undeserving shits. 

Tonight was supposed to be the last time; a final goodbye. Closure for the dead. That last push he needed to stop himself from reaching out and saying it's me— 

Simon. 

But this changes things. Ghost turns his back on the night, and disappears into the shadows. 

It's time to make some phone calls.