#but hey at least she doesn’t have Those Lips that they always put on black poc in anime :’)

[cleverclove]

Diversity win! Your evil moms who are about to sacrifice you to the Horrors might be gay!

[priniya]

hii, this is very specific but do you think you could write something involving fem!reader who grew up with sirius and they’re childhood best friends (but it’s only ever going to be platonic between them) and one day she transfers to hogwarts and immediately has a thing for james, however james doesn’t wanna make a move because he thinks her & sirius have some unspoken thing? <3

UNSPOKEN THINGS!

synopsis. growing up with sirius black was easy, but falling in love with his best friend was even easier. however, everything gets complicated — james keeps his distance, overthinking your relationship with sirius.

notes. i wouldn’t lie if i said i didn’t like that request, because i LOVE IT!!!! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING SM?? obv. james potter x fem!reader. maybe ooc james. gonna make a part 2!

all the good things that had taken place during your childhood had always happened with sirius black by your side. having him next to you was like a pearl you’d never trade for anything. sneaking out at night as children to spend a little more time with each other, pulling small pranks on your siblings, and having a companion for every banquet was something priceless.

you wished that your friendship would survive the sudden shift, caused by your mother’s dream to come back to her roots in southern france, and who was your father to disobey the love of his life? so, he barely turned eleven, when you bid goodbyes, gave him your future address, and hoped he’d write.

since sirius black has always been a man of his words, he did not disappointed you with the amount of letters he’d sent you. some may think that it slowly died down, when you got to school, although it just intensified. you were certain that he told you at least the majority of his stories, confiding in that he was head over heels with remus, his schoolmate.

telling him you were coming back to england was definitely the letter you were delighted to write. seeing him after those years was magical — almost miraculous. unfortunately, something got delayed and you got to london the same day you’d leave for hogwarts.

“sirius!” a laughter left your mouth as soon as you noticed the black-haired boy, standing next to a group of teenagers. before sirius even realized, you threw your arms around his neck, clutching him in a tight hug.

“you’re finally here!” he shouted, lifting you few inches off the ground with a smile, earning a lot of confused looks from all his friends. “couldn’t get any later, could you?” the boy rolled eyes at you, turning his head to face the confused group. “this is y/n, my first best friend.” with that, his arm was thrown around your shoulder, squeezing you a little.

before any of them spoke out, you got at least two seconds to look at them, memorizing their distinguished features, which could help you recognize them later. the boy standing the closest to you, who, you guessed, was james — the only one beside remus that sirius actually put a thought into writing about.

“nice to meet you.” he was first to greet you, embracing you in a short hug, something in his cologne almost made you lightheaded, his scent staying in your mind till falling asleep that night. “sirius couldn’t stop talking about you, always blah blah blah.”

“shut up, could you?” sirius retorted, pulling you away from the potter boy.

few hours later, you were trying to settle in your new dorm, when you heard a knock on the door. “hey.” a head peaked inside before you even got to open them. “am not interrupting something, am i?” potter asked, smile rosing on his lips as he walked in.

“noo, just trying to make this place more like mine, you know?” you smiled back, putting down a few frames with photos of you and your friends back in beauxbatons. “while you’re here, could you help me with putting books on the shelves?” curly-haired boy nodded his head eagerly, before taking a pile of books to put them where you wanted.

it was almost perfect — he was about to put the last one in its place, but something was wrong, and the book fell down, and hit him right in the nose, causing a nosebleed. “shit!” he groaned, immediately grabbing the hem of his shirt, using it like a tissue.

“merde, james i’m so sorry.” you mumbled, embarrassed. the towel quickly found its way to your hand, putting it close to his nose gently. “i’ll try to be as gentle as i can, i promise.” you whispered.

the distance between you was intimidating. his eyes focused on your faces as you carefully tried to stop the bleeding, your cheeks getting warmer with each second his sight was on you. “i’m a man made of steel, it’s fine.” he chuckled, eyes squinting right afterwards.

“i can see that.” you laughed softly, pulling the fabric away, seeing that the bleeding stopped. “don’t worry, you’re still the pretty boy you were before you got here.” blush creeped onto his cheeks upon hearing your comment.

and you stayed like that until sirius stepped into the room without knocking, catching the two of you barely inches away from each other, talking in hushed voices about something insignificant. music you like, movies you want to watch, fun summer stories and anything that found its way to your tounges.

the next few weeks were horrible, having yourself busy with all the workload you got, revising all the things you weren’t taught at your previous school, but they were compulsory at hogwarts. maybe if a certain curly-haired boy wasn’t on your mind 24/7, it’d be easier to study.

“y/n, good to see you!” marlene smiled, grabbing your arm as you were walking back to the common room after the study session you had at the library. “ready for the party?” she asked, grinning widely.

the question had taken you off guard — there was supposed to be a party and you were supposed to be ready by then? to be honest, the amount of time you put into studying, made you so exhausted you were barely standing on your own. on the other hand, the raging urge to impress sirius’ friends (specifically james) was unstoppable, and refusing the party was the last thing on your priority list.

“i’ll be in thirty minutes.” quickly, you matched her smile, stepping into the already crowded gryffindor common room, only to find sirius on the coffee table with james. “guys, this is my best friend, y/n! the party is for her!” your best friend shouted to the people, earning a few laughs and claps.

you laughed along the people, catching a brief glance of james, locking eyes with him for a little too long until he looked away, cheeks tinted pinkish. “geez, pads. let the poor girl change…?” mckinnon shook her head, pulling you away from black.

“so…” she beamed, closing the door behind her. “what’s going on with you and james?” she asked with ease, making herself comfortable on your bed, watching your inept attempts to hide how easy it was for james to make you lit up.

“nothing.” you shrugged. “geez, i feel bad for saying this since he’s sirius’ other best friend, but sometimes i really wish there was something going on. you know, he’s kind, funny, and cute.” a sigh escaped from between your lips as you looked through all the cute dresses your older sister made you buy last summer in italy.

“that’s what i thought.” she giggled, picking up makeup accessories. “well, from the way he looks at you, he seems to think you’re cute too.” she made a pause. “or he’s jealous of you, and doesn’t want to lose sirius.”

upon hearing that you decided to tell the blonde girl about those few evenings, when he just happened to be walking past your dorm and stayed with you for the whole night. “then he’s definitely interested in you.” marlene gasped, immediately jumping onto the spot next to you, grabbing the fitted, silky, red dress. “we’re gonna make him make a move. i swear, this boy won’t be able to stop himself.”

twenty-five minutes later, when you were already done with shower and trying to convince marlene to let you do make up on your own (which didn’t work out and she wanted to do it herself), you were sitting in front of the girl, legs crossed as she did the perfect line on your eyelid, once in a while stealing a glance of your bra.

“think about me if things are shitty with potter, yeah?” her smile made you roll eyes jokingly. “okayy, let’s take a quick pic of the masterpiece and go.” she quickly grabbed the camera from a shelf, snapped a picture of you, and her in the mirror, and left the room shortly after.

you remember the look james gave you, when he finally noticed you came back. he didn’t know if it was just him, but you looked like you could compete with world-level models. seeing you like that caused his heart to do a flip. just when he was about to walk up to you, sirius found his place somewhere next to you, close enough to sent james a signal to back off.

potter instantly assumed that there had to be something between the two of you, mostly by how touchy sirius would become whenever you were around, having his arm thrown around your shoulders or always somehow embracing your waist. and stealing his best friend’s girlfriend was the last thing he ever wanted to do, even if he felt he clicked with you.

as soon as sirius handed you the red cup filled with a liquid you assumed was alcohol, you let yourself forget about the whole thing with james. chugging down the cup as fast as you only could, trying to win the little competition with the black boy.

few hours later, when the entire party began to die down, james was trying to get to his dorm, completely sober, but then he noticed you sitting on the stairs, your knees and palms covered in blood. “shit.” he mumbled under his breath, debating in his mind if he should just walk the other way around or help you, and…

“what… happened?” he sat beside you, his stomach doing few more flips, seeing how your face lightened up at the sound of his voice. “y/n could you talk to me?”

“i fell down the stairs.” you grimaced, head leaned against his shoulder. “one of the seventh years suggested i should go to my own room, but i couldn’t move, ‘cos it hurts.” the grimace was replaced by a pout.

a sigh left his mouth as he picked you up, without saying a word — he believed it’d be easier to help you, and immediately leave than if he’d started a conversation with you. the whole walk to your dorm was silent, none of you hadn’t even let out a whimper until you were seated on your bed, while james tried to take proper care of your scrapped knees.

“are you mad at me?” you whispered softly, tilting your head to the side to get a better look at him. the sadness in your tone made his heart clutch. “why aren’t you speaking then? we hardly even talked today.” you added, when he just shook his head.

“i don’t want to do something, both of us might regret later.” his reply was strange, did he really think you’d regret anything that includes him in any way?

after that, the room remained silent — wordlessly, james handed you clothes that seemed like a good pyjamas material and turned away while you shamelessly changed. “can you stay with me?” you asked, stopping him in his tracks.

“of course.”

he laid down beside you, his eyes focused on the ceiling above. “have you ever thought how would your life looked like if you stayed in england?” the question left his mouth swiftly. “or if you never got back, do you think you’d fall out of touch with sirius?”

“there’s always a possibility that could happen, but i don’t think so, you know.” you answered, shifting on the mattress to see that he was already looking at you. “however, there were times when i thought he would throw away all those years of friendship.”

his curious gaze made you continue. “two years ago, he told me all about his plans with you. that you’d live together, far enough from his parents to not be threatened by them, but close enough to visit your parents every weekend. it sounds funny now, but all those plans — the apartment somewhere in the southern london, traveling and other stuff were exactly what we’d planned before i was forced to leave. that’s the only letter from sirius i didn’t keep. i couldn’t, it was a sign that the friendship wouldn’t last forever, so i burned it.” you shrugged, laying the fluffy blanket on top of your bodies. “i really wanted to hate you for this all those years, you know? but you seemed too fun to do so, coming here just made me more certain.” that was the first time in the whole evening that you’ve heard him laugh, feeling as if his normal self was coming back to you.

“look where we ended up.” the smile on his face was contagious. you beamed, laughing. you were so jealous of james two years earlier, and now you didn’t want him to leave the warm sheets of your bed. his face was getting so close to yours, you let yourself think he wanted to kiss you for a moment. maybe it was just the intoxication? “i don’t know where this might go, so i’m gonna say it know. i want us to stay on friends basis, please.”

and with those words it was your time to turn silent, acting sleepy to make him think you were about to drift off to sleep. “don’t worry, that’s what i wanted too.” you muttered with your eyes closed.

from that moment on, you hardly even spent time with james anymore, always finding an excuse to bail out if someone even suggested that you should hangout with them. the way you two acted was growing suspicious, and who would remus be if he didn’t notice?

“you’re sulking.” lupin retorted, when it was only james and he in their dorm, both pretending to not paying attention to one another. “care to elaborate? it’s been a month since you got so grumpy.”

“you won’t tell sirius?” potter tilted his head to the side, putting away the magazine he was reading and looked directly at his friend, who shook his head. “it’s about y/n.”

“so? you seemed to get along well when she got here.” remus frowned. “i mean-, you’re right, but then there was the party in october and uh, we almost kissed. i wanted to kiss her, but i quite panicked.” the seeker explained, making the werewolf to deepen his frown. “james, i swear to god what have you done?”

but remus already know. marlene had told him a few days after the party that the two lovebirds were drifting away, and prongs was definitely the reason of the sudden change in their dynamics. until now, he was just looking for a chance to speak with him about it.

“i said i wanted to keep it on friends basis, she rarely talks to me ever since.” he sighed, turning down the volume of the radio. “i really wanted to keep talking to her without breaking sirius’ heart if something between us happened.”

“wait.” the frown was now an unchanging part of remus’ face. “why do you think you’d possibly break pads’ heart if you started dating y/n?” lupin shifted on his bed, yet to connect all the dots.

james grimaced at the thought of his response, wasn’t it obvious? “well, it’s against the brocode to steal someone’s girlfriend, isn’t it?” upon hearing that, remus choked on water, confusing his friend even more.

“prongs.” the blonde boy laughed, making his way towards the other boy. “i believe that if you started dating y/n, sirius would be far from heartbroken, and he wouldn’t consider you a girlfriend thief.” another bursts of laughter escaped from between lupin’s lips as he clutched his stomach. “if you’d like to break his heart, you’d have to steal someone else, not a girl he considers a sister.”

all remus regretted that moment was that he left his camera at lily’s, so he was unable to capture the funniest expression on james’ face, he has ever seen. “you should really talk to her, to at least explain yourself.” he squeezed his friend’s knee in reassurance, before james stood up. “i’d look for her in marl’s dorm, if i were you.” he hinted, disappearing behind bathroom’s doors.

you sat on marlene’s bed with dorcas right next to you, her arm thrown around your shoulder as you drunk the wine, she bought specifically for that evening. it happened to be the day, when girls had their weekly girls’ night, so mckinnon thought you should tagged along.

the knocking on the door interrupted lily’s story about remus and hers trip to edinburgh last summer, and the one hot girl she met back then. “hey, is y/n there?” james’ voice rang loudly in the room, giving you shivers. you couldn’t have a day without thinking of him, could you?

marlene flashed you a look, before looking back at him. “i don’t know, do you think she’d like to talk to you?” she crossed arms at her chest, watching the rosing confusion on his face, before you appeared in the view, ruining the whole scary girl gig. “we’ll be right here, love.” she nudged you lightly as you walked out of the room, closing the door behind you.

“heard you were looking for me…?” you asked, muscles stiff at the thought of being one on one with him. “can we do it quickly? my wine’s bottle is probably emptied by dorcas now.” you chuckled, trying to sound as calm as you only could.

“i don’t want to be friends anymore.” his confession made your heart twitch. the alcohol running in your veins almost made you vulnerable in front of him. the sigh that left your mouth was his signal to realize you misunderstood him. “you really came up here to tell me that?”

it was getting pretty bad, and james knew, there was one thing he could do that wouldn’t mess up what he wanted to tell you. hands flew to your cheeks, cupping them with his palms as leaned in to kiss you. it was definitely unexpected — but you couldn’t resist him, the thing you’ve wanted so bad, finally came true. james’ lips on yours.

he took his time before pulling away, and when he did, you were reminded that there was world beside him. all the misery you were in was long gone, just by seeing the smile on his face. “i’m sorry.” the seeker began, his eyes tracing around your face but not stopping on your eyes once. “i misinterpreted the relationship between you and padfoot, and it got all messy in my head. i thought you two were… you know, a thing.”

a quiet chuckle escaped from between your lips, caressing his cheek gently with a thumb, involuntarily smiling at his vivid embarrassment. “james,” you spoke out softly, amusement still audible in your tone. “hypothetically, if sirius and i were a thing, would i really invite you to spend time in my room, one on one, always suggesting that you should stay overnight? you, my hypothetical boyfriend’s best friend?”

“well, i haven’t thought about it.” he shrugged, smile tugging on his face. “nonetheless, i’m taking you on a date, but don’t tell sirius. i’m sure he’s going to kill me for hitting up on you.” james scoffed, hair getring ruffled by his fingers.

“when did i agree on going on a date with you?” you asked, biting back a smile, at the same time trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “don’t worry, i’ve never told on a cute boy before.”

he opened his mouth to reply, but marlene opened the door and snatched you inside, before you could even react, her action earning a few laughs in response. “excuse me, lover boy, but the time is up!” the blonde laughed, visibly tipsy, and disappeared behind the door.

now, james potter had two things to do — figure out where should he take you out, and how to tell his best friend that he wants to date his childhood best friend.

[scarsrealm]

something new. - leon scott kennedy.

tw: alcohol, slight fluff, swearing, etc.

***

“Leon, it can’t be that bad..” Chris says, looking at Leon with a hopeful expression on his face. “No, I already told you no, Chris. I can’t believe Claire really set me up with this girl.” Leon was annoyed, as always. Claire set him up with a friend of hers because she felt that Leon needed a new person in his life. Of course, Leon disagreed.

“Leon, you’re gonna go.” Leon furrowed his eyebrows at Chris before taking another sip of his beer. “Right…” he said, chuckling. He still wasn’t convinced. He had never met this woman, and he doesn’t know much about her. “I’m serious, this is your chance to settle down with a nice girl.” Leon shook his head. “I don’t have time for any relationships or dates, Chris, and I especially don’t have time to settle down. Just drop it, man. I’m not going.”

Chris groaned quietly, clearly annoyed by his friend’s stubbornness. Leon was a hard person to persuade and it was almost impossible to talk him into doing something, especially when it came down to social things. “You should at least try to get to know her, you don’t have to be all romantic, just see if you like her.” Leon thought about Chris’s words for a moment. Should I do this? Is this a good idea? What if she doesn’t like me? Those questions were relentlessly running through his mind. He didn’t even know this woman and he just was supposed to go on a date with her simply because Chris said so?

Leon was about to reject the idea when Chris spoke again. "Just go on this one date, Leon." Leon groaned quietly. He didn't want to go, but he wanted to do anything that would make Chris shut up about the topic.

"Fine."

He finally said, looking at Chris who had a huge grin on his face. Leon could have sworn that the man looked like a kid on Christmas. "But if this is a total screw up, don't try to persuade me into another one, got it?"

Chris laughed and nodded while Leon took one last sip of his beer before putting it back on the table. He sighed, thinking of how this would go. Would he have a good time, or would he have the worst time of his life? He really didn't want to find out.

"Well, looks like I’m gonna be busy tomorrow night." Leon stood up from the bar stool he was sitting in. Chris smiled and nodded. "I’ll see you later, Leon." Chris waved as Leon left the bar, a sigh escaping his lips as soon as he stepped outside.

"I really shouldn't have agreed to this." Leon mumbled to himself as he got into his car, his mind racing with thoughts. What the hell am I going to wear?

•••

The next day, Leon was standing outside the restaurant where his date was supposed to happen, waiting for the mystery girl. His nerves were on edge. He clearly wasn't too eager on the idea of going out on a date, and now he was actually there and about to do it.

"Fuck.." Leon mumbled, running his hand through his hair. He was nervous and scared, he wasn't the kind of person who really had the best first impression, so he hoped his date would like him. He was dressed nicely, a plain white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. It was simple, yet nice.

He checked his phone for the time, 7:00 pm. He had arrived early, wanting to avoid any awkward moments. He sighed as he leaned against the building, a slight breeze blowing through his hair. The air was cold, which made him shiver a little.

He looked up to see a young woman walking towards him. She had a black dress on, black heels, and her hair was curled and flowed over her shoulders. He could see that she was wearing very light makeup, but it was still noticeable.

The woman walked up to him, a small smile on her face. Leon was surprised and amazed by her figure, she was slim and curvy in all the right places. “Hey, Leon..” the woman spoke, her voice was soft and smooth. She seemed nervous, her hands were fidgeting and she had a shaky smile on her face.

Leon felt a slight feeling of relief wash over him. He was glad that she seemed just as nervous as him. "Hey, um, Y/n, it’s very…n-nice to meet you, Claire speaks highly of you."

Y/n chuckled, her face turning a shade of pink. "Well, it's nice to meet you, too.." she said, looking away from him. "Um, are you ready?" Leon asked, scratching the back of his neck. "Y-yeah, let's go." She said, smiling at him.

He nodded and opened the door for her, causing her to blush more. "Such a gentleman." She said, smiling slightly. Leon chuckled. "I try my best." He said, causing her to chuckle softly. They both walked in, and Leon went to go check them in.

After getting seated, the two of them sat at their table. They both ordered their food and drinks, and the waitress left. Leon and Y/n sat there, a slightly awkward silence hanging over them. They both tried to come up with things to talk about, but nothing was coming up. Leon was the first to speak up, his voice coming out slightly raspy.

"So, um, tell me about yourself.."

He asked, his voice trailing off. He mentally cursed at himself for saying that. Jesus, I should have said something different. He thought. “Uhm..w-well..what exactly do you want to know?” She questioned anxiously. She, too, was nervous. She didn’t know how to be casual, it was just so awkward.

“Well, anything, really. What are you interested in, your hobbies, you know, stuff like that.” Leon said, staring into her eyes intriguingly. “Oh, right..” she pauses briefly to let out a small giggle. “Sorry, I’m just nervous..” She says, Leon nods and laugh softly. “Yeah, so am I. I’m just trying to figure out the right things to say.” He says, tapping on the table as a way to calm his nerves. “You and me, both. I didn’t want you to think I was a freak or something..” She said, smiling shyly.

"Don’t worry, I think you're great. So far, at least." He said, smirking slightly. She laughed. "Yeah, you're not so bad, yourself." She said, clasping her hands together and placing them on the table. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Okay, well, let's see, I enjoy reading, watching movies, and that’s it really..I don’t really have time to do much because of work." She says, looking at him.

"Oh okay..” Leon simply said. “What about you?” She asked. He thought for a second before answering. "I really don't have any hobbies, I'm always at work, so I don't really have a lot of time, either. My job can be very stressful,” he paused and cleared his throat.

"What do you do for work?" She questioned, her curiosity growing. "Uh—“ The waitress interrupted, coming up to the table with their orders. "Here you are." The waitress set the plates in front of them and left. "Sorry about that." Leon apologized, a light blush appearing on his cheeks. "Oh, no, it’s fine.” She had completely forgot what she was asking and Leon didn’t bother to remind her.

They both started eating, and Y/n spoke up. "This is good." Leon smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it is. I should start coming here often.” He said, jokingly, making Y/n laugh a little.

The two continued talking and eating their food, enjoying each other's company. They didn't notice the waitress approaching until she was right next to them. "Do you guys need anything else?"

Y/n shook her head. "No, I'm okay." Leon smiled politely and shook his head. "Just the bill, please." The waitress nodded and left, leaving the two of them alone.

"So, tell me more about yourself." Leon asked, looking at her. She shrugged. "There's not much to tell. I'm pretty boring." She says, laughing a bit. Leon chuckled. “No, that can’t be right. You’re doing a good job entertaining me right now. You're not boring." He said, smiling.

She blushed and smiled at him. "Thanks. I'm really glad I decided to come out tonight, I thought it was gonna be awful, but I was wrong."

Leon nodded. "Yeah, it's not so bad." He said, smirking slightly. Y/n couldn't help but smile back at him. She really enjoyed his company, she thought he was a great guy.

The waitress came back with the bill and set it on the table. "Whenever you're ready, sir." Leon nodded, grabbing the bill. Y/n grabbed her purse and started to take out her wallet. “Whoa, what are you doing?" He questioned, his eyebrows raised. "Paying half, what else would I be doing?" She says, chuckling.

"Put your wallet away, I'm paying. Don't worry about it." He said, opening the bill folder and taking out some cash.

"No, you're not. You can't pay for everything, let me pay my share." She said, a serious look on her face. "No, you're not going to pay." She liked that he was a gentleman, but it didn't mean that she had to let him pay. "Leon, it’s fine—"

He shook his head. "No, I got it, put your wallet away." He insisted. Y/n sighed and gave up. "Fine." She said, rolling her eyes. He chuckled, amused by her stubbornness. The waitress came back and picked up the money Leon left. "Keep the change." He said, nodding. The waitress thanked him and left.

Y/n and Leon stood up and walked out of the restaurant. "Thanks, for the dinner, it was very nice of you." Y/n said, smiling. Leon nodded and smiled back. "Don’t mention it.." he said, his eyes locking onto hers.

They stood there, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. There was an awkward silence between them as they continued to gaze into each other's eyes. They were lost in each other's eyes, it felt like nothing could ruin this moment.

"So..do you maybe wanna..do this again sometime? We can get a drink or something..you know, whenever you’re free." Leon suggested, hoping that she would accept his offer. Y/n nodded and smiled. "Sure, I'll let you know."

Leon smiled, he was relieved that she said yes. He wasn't sure if he would ask her out again, he was happy that she had agreed to do it. "Sounds good, so..I'll see you around." Leon said, reluctantly leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Y-yeah, you, too." She said, her face flushing a bright red color.

Leon smiled, thinking to himself. Well, that wasn’t bad after all.

***

a/n: im not sure if you’ll like it but I tried😓 @4leon6

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 I was a dreamer before you went and let me down

pairing: sirius black x reader

warnings: angst idk, reader is ravenclaw but it’s only mentioned once so it doesn’t matter lmao. also white horse lyrics as the title🗣️🔥

a/n: take this bc i’m writing a long fic rn so this is bad😭🙏

1.6k words ^_^

“Good afternoon, Sirius!” you cheerfully greeted as he and the rest of the Marauders walked by you. He gave you a side glance before facing forward and walking away, not saying anything.

The cheerful smile on your face soon faded. Two months of trying (and failing) to get Sirius to talk to you, let alone agree to go out with you, was starting to get to you.

“What do you want?” Sirius said, not sparing a glance at you.

“Do you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me? This weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, so I thought that you and I could–”

“No.” With that, you quickly shut down, the little confidence you had now gone, your lips turning into a line.

“Alright, well, I’ll be off now. Bye,” you said, trying not to show how embarrassed you were.

Come to think of it, you had done everything you could think of for Sirius to like you back or at least go on one date with you.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” your friend Anne asked, patting your back. She had been there for you since your very first day at Hogwarts. You honestly think you would’ve gone insane without her there with you.

“I’m alright, Anne. I just don’t understand why he won’t even glance at me! I’m not that bad looking, right?”

“Of course not, Y/N! I think it’s about time you get over him! I mean, you said it yourself, he never even glances at you!”

You had thought maybe it was time to get over Sirius. “You’re right! From now onwards, I will get over him.”

“Let’s see how long that lasts,” Anne said, a soft smile appearing on her lips.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was safe to say that it lasted pretty long. Alright, it had only been a few hours, but still! It was around dinner time, and you had stayed a little longer after class putting away equipment and talking to the professor about the assignment.

Sirius couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He had done half the homework as he felt too lazy to do the rest. All the pranks were finalized and ready to go, so why he felt like something was missing was confusing him.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was now morning, and you had woken up feeling better than ever. Not having someone ruin the little confidence you had the night before really does change a person, huh?

Before you realized it, it was already time for breakfast.

That’s when your eyes caught wind of Sirius Black, laughing with his friends. Oh, his smile was always so beautiful to you.

“Y/N, no, you will not go up to him. Remember what you agreed on yesterday?” Anne said, tired of seeing you all sappy over a boy, especially one like Sirius.

“I know, I know, but come on, you can’t blame me! He’s just so… ughh!”

Anne sighed, slapping your arm. “Okay, but we have to walk past them to enter the Great Hall. Don’t spare a glance at him, and don’t even speak to him!”

And you did just that. You honestly thought he wouldn’t notice. How wrong you were. He had noticed; he thought that you were too tired to go up to him last evening, so you’d probably one-up yourself this morning for missing last night.

But how wrong he was. You didn’t even glance at him! He was shocked, to say the least. “Woah, she didn’t speak to you or even look at you! Hey, all that rejecting really worked, good for you,” said James.

Sirius forced a laugh. “Yeah, about time. She was getting annoying.” How he wishes he could take those words back. He knew you heard them but wished you never did.

You frowned. Did he really not like you that much?! Wow. You guess it was a good thing to stop trying to get his attention.

Anne gave you a side hug, hearing what he said himself. “He’s not worth it. Ignore what he said. If I was him, I’d be glad a very beautiful, smart, kind girl was giving me all her attention!” You smiled at that.

“Thanks, Anne, but I can’t believe he thinks that way of me. But I should’ve guessed.”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It had now been a week. A week of Sirius yearning for your attention. A week since you made an effort of talking to him.

Despite the passing week, Sirius found himself unable to shake off the feeling of regret. He realized how much he had taken your presence for granted and how foolish he had been to dismiss your efforts. The more he thought about it, the more he missed your cheerful greetings and your attempts to engage him in conversation.

What really pushed him over the edge was the new guy you were now so close to. He was completely different from him—more quiet, with light hair, smarter, and, more importantly, actually talked to you and seemed to enjoy your presence.

How could you move on in just a week? Move on with a guy completely different from him?

He saw the way the guy looked at you, how your friends would always ship you two together. It was infuriating to him.

What really set him off was when he saw the soft pink hue on your cheeks. That could’ve been you two if he hadn’t been so stupid! Did he really think you would be like James, who has been chasing the same girl forever? Yes, he did think that.

Turns out you were not like James. You had given up in just two months!

"You’re staring," Remus' voice snapped Sirius out of his trance.

"Huh?" Sirius played dumb, not wanting Remus to know who or what he was staring at.

"You know, you could’ve just said yes the times she actually asked you out. I don’t know why you just rejected her. Didn’t you have a crush on her at one point?" Remus questioned.

"I just... I really don’t know why I never said yes. I thought she’d continue to ask me out at least until the end of this year. It isn’t even the holidays yet!" Sirius replied, feeling agitated.

Remus sighed, his gaze shifting from Sirius to you, who was now engrossed in conversation with the new guy. “Well, mate, sometimes we realize things a little too late. Maybe you should talk to her, explain how you feel.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, a mixture of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. “Do you think it’s too late, Moony? I mean, she seems happy now, and I don’t want to disrupt that.”

“It’s never too late if you genuinely care about someone,” Remus said gently. “But you have to be prepared for any outcome. She might not feel the same way anymore, or she might give you another chance. The important thing is that you’re honest with her and yourself.”

Sirius nodded, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have been and what could still be. “You’re right. I’ll talk to her, no more running away from my feelings.”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Remus’s words echoed in Sirius’s mind as he watched you and the new guy sharing a laugh. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before approaching you.

After a while, when you were alone, Sirius walked over, trying to appear casual despite the nervousness bubbling inside him. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, offering a small smile.

You looked up, surprised to see Sirius approaching you. “Hey, Sirius. What’s up?” you replied, returning the smile, though there was a hint of wariness in your eyes.

Sirius hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. “I wanted to talk to you about something… important,” he started, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your smile faltered slightly, sensing the gravity of the conversation. “Sure, go ahead,” you said, trying to maintain a neutral tone.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius continued, “I know I haven’t been the best lately, and I want to apologize for that. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything, and I realize now that I made a mistake by not appreciating you and your efforts.”

You listened quietly, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. “It’s okay, Sirius. We all have our moments,” you replied, trying to keep your composure.

Sirius shook his head, a flicker of pain crossing his features. “No, it’s not okay. I should have realized sooner how much you mean to me. Seeing you happy with someone else made me realize how much I regret not being there for you when I had the chance.”

Your heart clenched at his words, memories of the morning after flooding back. “Did you really mean what you said that morning, Sirius?” you asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

Sirius’s expression faltered, guilt evident in his eyes. “I… I was being stupid, Y/N. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings, and I said things I regret. Please, let me make it right.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts, feeling a surge of frustration and hurt. “It’s not that easy, Sirius. You can’t just take back everything you said and expect things to go back to how they were.”

Sirius swallowed hard, realizing the depth of his mistake. “I know I messed up, and I don’t expect forgiveness right away. I just needed you to know how I feel.”

The tension between you was palpable as you both grappled with your emotions. “I need time, Sirius,” you finally said, your voice wavering slightly.

Sirius nodded, a pang of regret piercing his heart. “I understand. I’ll give you the time you need, but please know that I’m sincere about wanting to make amends.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Another day, another disappointment. 

You don't know what you’re doing wrong. You have experience, you just lack a few good references. As much as you tell yourself it isn't your fault your past job ended the way it did, you're doubting even that. 

You try to keep out of the way since your last run-in with your brother-in-law. It might be better to consider him your landlord. You go outside as much as you can when he’s home. Sometimes just to walk and forget, but that’s getting harder to do. 

That day, you need to talk to Andy. It’s intimidating like when you used to ask your father to do anything. With Rhiannon, it was one smile and she got her way, but who can ever say no to her? With you, it was always an interrogation. Why do you want to do that? Who with? As if you were lying or up to no good. 

Your trip to the bank helps you sort your nerves, at least a little bit. You have it all rehearsed in your head. And he can’t be unhappy when you’re doing exactly what he told you too. 

A sigh escapes you as you enter the suburban sprawl. Each flawless facade, each primped and preppy housewife, each giggling child reminds you of your displacement. You tuck your hands into your jean pockets, further discomfited by the blazing sun as your Queens of the Stone Age shirt absorbs the heat. 

You have your wired earbuds in, blasting the new album you’ve been anticipating for a year. You pre-ordered when you still had a full-time income. Another reminder of how low you’ve fallen. Money you would gladly take back as you’re not feeling the electric pop flow. 

As you turn a corner, you flinch and dodge out of the way as a black speck approaches from the other side of the street. You assume it’s some kid chasing an errant soccer ball. To your surprise, it’s someone much bigger than any rambunctious fifth grader. 

It’s him. That man with the curly hair. Like you, he’s in jeans. This heat is unforgiving to denim. He wears a dark shirt on top, a hint of chest hair poking out. You look around and turn to continue on your path. He must be running after someone else. 

He calls your name. You only recall his as he falls into step with you. Walter. Your catch your ear buds as they fall out. 

“Hey, you weren’t at the Crayton barbecue,” he comments, “I was lonely.” 

You look at him from the corner of your eye, hands firmly back in your pockets as you push your shoulders up. 

“I’m not much into those things either but my girl is friends with their girl,” he explains, “was thinking you might be into something more lowkey.” 

“Um,” you squint, mourning your lack of sunglasses, “I don’t think so. I’m working on moving out soon...” 

“Yeah, sure, but not tonight,” he insists. “Chicken burgers only, promise.” 

You glance over at him. He’s taunting you. 

“I didn’t... I wasn’t... my sister told me to--” 

“Oh, so should I ask her if you should come over for a beer?” He challenges. 

“What?” You frown, “beer, I don’t drink.” 

“Got it, I have near beers you can have. Or I’ll have a beer and you can have ginger ale,” he suggests as he puts a hand up, “whatever you like.” 

You mull his invitation. You gnaw on your lip as you near the corner by your sister’s house. He doesn’t let up, in lockstep with you until you reach the gate. You stop with your hand on the white picket. He stands beside you. 

“Sorry but... why?” 

He scoffs, “I like your style. We have similar music taste. I don’t know. Like I said, I’m bored. Not a lot of people around here are into grunge. Even dudes my age prefer Seger to Cobain.” 

You were never a Nirvana cultist. You appreciate them but you prefer Grohl in his second era. You tap your fingertips on the wooden slat and face him. 

“I don’t know,” you utter and peek back at the house. It might be good to get out but this man is a stranger. Still, look at this place. This is the very picture of affluence. Not like he’s asking you back to some dingy alleyway. “I’d hate to trouble you.” 

“Hah,” he puts his hands on his hips, “I’m the one asking. You think I would if it was trouble? Besides, I see through the monochrome, you’re anything but trouble.” 

You can’t help the slant in your lips. Yep. That’s you. Boring. Dull. Like wallpaper. 

“Marshall,” a rocky growl greets from the front porch. You glance over as Andy emerges, in a yellow short-sleeved button up and khakis.  

“Barber,” Walter answers in a flat tone. 

“Need something?” Andy strides down the paved walkway, between the tulips and daisies your sister fawns over. 

“Not from you,” Walter retorts with a smirk, “talking to her.” 

“And why’s that?” 

You sense the tension. You glance between the men as they stare each other down. You shrink between them, trapped at the gate. 

“Her business, not yours,” Walter scoffs, “no client privilege here, bud, now we’re having a chat.” 

“Outside my house?” Andy sneers 

The other man shakes his head and ignores him, turning his back to the fence, “anyway, six-thirty? I’ll come by to get you for that beer.” 

You can’t find your voice to disagree as you’re choked by thick air, the heat turning stolid in their obvious spite for each other. Walter glances over his shoulder nods at Andy before he turns to stride off. You cough and watch him go. 

The gate jolts out of your grasp as Andy pulls it open from the other side. You let go and falter before you step through. You shy away as he stands, a hand on one hip, the other on the gate door. He swings it shut with a snap. 

“You’re hanging out with Marshall?” He asks. 

“He... asked,” you face him, bouncing indecisively on the walk, “er, Andy, actually, I wanted to talk--” 

“You should tell him to fuck off,” Andy interrupts. 

“Oh?” 

“Trust me. I work with the jackass.” 

“You do?” You wonder. 

“Sometimes. At the precinct,” he sniffs and turns to you, “stubborn asshole.” 

“Right, well, I didn’t... I don’t...” 

“Guess I shouldn’t complain if it gets you out of my hair,” he snorts. 

“Andy, er,” you grab your satchel and unzip the top, “I got my unemployment so... here.” You hold out the envelope of bills. It’s all you have left after paying for your most basic expenses, “for groceries and whatever.” 

“And whatever?” He takes the envelope with a skeptical look, “sure.” 

You stand in silence. You thought he’d have a different reaction. Maybe not elated but maybe a thanks? You don’t know. He hates you, just like everyone else. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I... I don’t want to be in the way.” 

“You should’ve told her no. Rhiannon... she’s too nice for her own good. Even to her family and you all just walk all over her.” 

You furrow your brow, “I don’t... I wouldn’t--” 

“Save it,” he rolls his eyes and slips the envelope into his pocket, “that’ll do for one month, but you’ve been here two.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you quaver, breathless. Not good enough. Never good enough. 

“You know, acting pathetic, it’s not endearing. Maybe to Rhi, but not me.” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he taunts, “alright, noted. Have fun with Marshall.” He snickers, “bit of advice, don’t put out after one beer, try to make him work for it. Hell, maybe if he does, you could learn a lesson or two about work.” 

Your eyes sting and you swallow tightly. You turn to step past him and he blocks you with his arm. You back up and look him in the face. Unlike Rhiannon, you can do that. She always looks ridiculous next to him. 

“Or maybe, if you can get some money out of it...” he looks you up and down and you hug yourself defensively. “Ah, nah,” his eyes drift past you, towards the street, “I know that bastard. He’s just tryna get to me.” He laughs darkly and shakes his head, “too bad I don’t give a shit.” He turns his glare back on you, “do me a favour, stay a bit later. I’d like some privacy with my wife.” 

You drop your eyes meekly and nod, “yeah, I’ll try. Sorry, again.” 

He inhales and lets it out heavy. He slowly moves out of your way, “it’s weird,” he says as you move past him, “sometimes, you actually do look like her sister,” he comments as your pace picks up, “like her but not pretty.” 

You continue inside without a response. You don’t know why he has to take it there. Why he can’t just take his win and be happy? Or at least content.

You remember before the wedding, when he found you, told you to stay in the back for photos. You apologised then too, even if he was being mean. It doesn’t matter, you’re always wrong. 

[astro-ellie]

can you imagine abby melting when reader whisper "home" while being held by her strong arms after a long stressful day 😞

a/n: my heart anon you don’t understand what putting this scenario in my head is doing to me, also this became so, so much longer than i thought it would. sorry not sorry

it never gets easy.

no amount of training and no amount of assignments you’ve completed will ever make it easy. you’ve been doing this for a while, and you’re still haunted by memories. you have the physical strength to fight, that’s not the issue, all those hours in the gym while training has paid off.

the feeling of nausea at the smell of blood, the shiver that runs down your spine every time you take someone out during a mission, just never goes away.

until now you had been holding onto the hope that one day you’d be too desensitised to be affected anymore. one day, killing people- scars, scavengers, hell, even infected, would be easy. you would no longer spend hours scrubbing away that dirty feeling all over your skin after a kill.

oh, how naive of me.

it hits you as you head towards your room. you’ve always been aware deep inside that this violence and the murder will never feel right, you’ll never be able to swallow the distaste down, but now you have accepted it. and accepting it is heavy, it hurts, burns, weighs you down.

maybe, it was the scar kid that made you realise it. she had been running towards you blind with rage, and you had shot an arrow right at her without hesitation. maybe, it was the fact that as she laid dead in front of you she reminded you of someone you lost. or maybe, it was the fact that she was so young.

killing a kid will never be easy.

at some point, you turn away from the corridor in which your room is in. you can’t be alone anymore. your entire body feels cold, and your hands are shaking. the past years it’s like you’ve numbed your discomfort at least to an extent, hiding behind the naive thinking that it would become easier at some point.

now you’ve faced the cold truth, and there’s nothing you can hide behind anymore.

when your fists hit the door and you wait for her to come open, the unsettling realisation has grown into a heavy and dark hole inside of you. you could swear it almost burns, and it completely overwhelms you.

it doesn’t feel like you’re here. or anywhere, really. it will never be easy. so you’re just supposed to do this shit till you’re dead, no matter how much it wears you down.

without even noticing it yourself, your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re hyperventilating. the black hole inside of you continues to grow bigger, until it feels like it will consume you.

when the door is slammed open you almost don’t notice. it’s abby’s voice that takes you out of it, that grounds you in reality again. the hole inside your chest is still there, but it stopped growing. her presence makes a warmth slowly spread throughout you, the cold feeling disappearing.

“hey, you okay?” she’s reaching out her arm, placing her hand on your shoulder. concern is written all over her face, but you can’t bring yourself to reply.

all you can do is wrap your arms around her, pressing your face against her collarbone. she’s unmoving for a second, before engulfing you in a hug as well. her warmth consumes you, forces the hole inside of you to shrink and shrink, until it’s almost unnoticeable. almost.

she tries to ask you again, tries to ask what happens. asks you if you need something, all you do is shake your head. you already have all you need right here in between your arms.

“home.” it’s whispered against abby’s shirt, said so casually and soft. home is safety, comfort. home is your safe space, home is where you’re protected. so how could any other place than her arms be called your home?

if you only could see abby’s face, her eyes filled with adoration. you swear she hugs you a little tighter, leans into your touch a little bit more and you feel the featherlight touch of her lips on the top of your head.

yeah, it doesn’t get easier. but you have abby, and maybe that’s all you need.

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 2

LOL! I love how much you guys are loving this. I took the idea for the names at the bar from a fantasy novel called The Lark and the Wren (I’m pretty sure) by Mercedes Lackey (only in that case it was a brothel).

Also guys: If I have you on my list but you didn’t get the notification for the tag it means one of two things: it’s a side or secondary blog and tumblr doesn’t tag those. Or and this far more likely you have it set that you’re undiscoverable through tumblr. Under settings go to your blog then scroll all the way down to visibility and make sure both are grey. (Or secret third thing that your blog is set to 18+ because tumblr hates porn.)

Part 1

*

Steve was trembling when he got to the apartment he shared with Robin. So badly that he was struggling to put the key in the lock. After the third failed attempt, he let out a sharp cry and sunk to the floor, his back pressed against the door.

He knew that he wasn’t the best person in high school. He did. But he had changed his senior year. Stopped hanging out with Tommy and Carol. Started focusing on his art. Meeting Robin.

Hell, as far as Steve could remember they hadn’t even gone after Eddie and his friends. He would like to say that it was because he had a crush on the guy. But no, it was just they ran in different circles and were just outside their purview.

He held his hands up and while they still shook, they weren’t as bad. He got up and tried again. With some effort he managed to get the key in the lock. He sighed in relief as the tumbler slid and allowed him to open the door.

As badly as Steve wanted to grab the six pack out of the fridge and down the whole thing, wallowing in self-pity. He couldn’t because he actually had work.

He had to train his replacement. He worked at an upscale bar close to campus, bar-tending. It was good money and he was able to work nights and go to school during the day. But if everything went according to plan, at the end of summer Steve would be starting his student teaching position. So the bar needed a new bartender.

He pulled on the black slacks and white button up that his uniform and his white sneakers. He rolled up his sleeves and checked his hair really quick in the mirror.

It would have to do.

He splashed water on his face to wash away the tears and clear his mind of cobwebs. He didn’t have the liberty of fucking up.

Steve grabbed his car keys and jumped into his BMW. The last remnant of his father’s hospitality. He had gotten the car when he was sixteen and the car was nearing its first decade. He kept his fingers crossed that it would last until he got his first full time teaching job.

When he pulled up the bar, he could see her waiting for him by the door. She was pretty blonde with bright eyes and a cheerful expression. She was wearing a short black skirt and high heeled shoes.

Steve shook his head. She was in for a rough time tonight if that’s what she was going to be wearing.

He trotted up to her. “Hey, you must be the new girl.”

“Yeah I’m C–”

Steve held up his hand. “If you’re going to tell me your real name, don’t. The boss doesn’t like us knowing each other’s real names, says it distracts from the ambient feel. I’m Garnet.”  

She blushed. “Right, right. He said. I’m Opal.”

Steve nodded. “Or at least at first hopefully by the time I leave you’ll be upgraded to a nicer gem.”

Opal fell instep with him as he led the way through the bar. “Have you always been Garnet, then?”

Steve licked his lips. “Yeah. It’s something of a running joke now. I’m the best bartender this bar has ever had and I’ve never been upgraded to Ruby or whatever.”

She nodded.

“Truth is Diamond respects me, but he sure the hell doesn’t like me,” he explained.

“You think Diamond is his real name?” Opal asked eagerly.

Steve shrugged. “Could be.” He grabbed two aprons from their hooks and tossed one at her. “This will help prevent you going home smelling like the bar.”

She nodded, tying it deftly around her waist.

“Diamond said you’ve done this before?” Steve asked, pulling out two white towels and tossing her one.

Opal nodded. “At my last job. It closed up because the owners retired.”

Steve nodded. “So then this won’t be too difficult. This will just be me showing you were everything is and showing you how to make the house specials.”

“Pretty much,” she said cheerfully.

Steve looked down at her shoes. “Your last place make you wear heels to tend in?”

She looked down at her feet. “Yeah, said I was too short to see over the bar otherwise.”

He cocked his head to side. “But you aren’t that short...”

Opal laughed, clear as a bell. “Oh I know. He was just a misogynist pig. I do have flats with me since I take the bus.”

“Put them on,” Steve instructed. “We move way too fast for you to be in heels. I don’t want you breaking your ankle or have blisters by the end of the night.”

She nodded and pulled out a pair of black flats and slipped them on, shoving the heels back in the purse.

“You’ll want tennis shoes or any other comfortable shoe from now on,” Steve explained. “You’re also allowed to wear slacks if you want. The patrons aren’t going to see below your waist and the apron covers your chest. Your tips will come from you being fast and good.”

Opal saluted. “Aye, aye Captain!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Garnet!” a uncoordinated blur shouted and jumped into his arms. Steve caught her deftly and shook his head.

“Hey, Pearl,” he said with a grin. He set her down. “Say hi to the new girl.”

Pearl turned slowly to see that yes, someone was with Steve.

“Uh, hi,” she said, shyly. “Garnet’s my best friend.”

Steve gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, you are. Pearl, this is Opal. She’s my replacement come August. Opal, this gangly giraffe is one of the best waitresses the Queen’s Crown has to offer.”

Pearl smacked Steve’s arm. “Pay no attention to him.”

Opal laughed. “Kinda hafta because he’s training me.”

“Well besides that,” Pearl said. “He’s just a big dingus with a bigger heart.”

Steve blushed.

“Aww...” Opal said, “you two are cute together.”

Pearl made a fake vomiting noise. “We’re just best friends. Platonic with a capital P.”

Steve shook his head. “Ignore her.”

Opal laughed. “Five minutes in and I’m already ignoring everyone. This must be quite the friendly place.”

Just then a large man came out of the back and threw his arms wide open.

“Opal, my pet!” he boomed. “You made it. These two haven’t been giving you a hard time, have they?”

Opal shook her head. “They’ve been sweet.”

“Good, good,” Diamond said with a grin. “The bar opens in an hour. Garnet will show you everything you need to do to get stared.”

He gave them a wink and lumbered back into office.

Steve cleared his throat. “Right. So everyone pitches into to step and take down everything. Take down will include wiping everything down and sweeping and mopping the floors. Even Diamond comes out and helps wash glasses.”

Opal’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

Pearl nodded. “He’s kinda a if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself kind of guy. Not always, he does trust us to do our jobs, but he’s  very hands on.”

“But he doesn’t help set up?” Opal asked,

Steve looked back behind him and then back at her. “He gets the drawers ready for the day. He counts it all before hand and then we count our drawers with him after. He also counts the tip jar in front of everyone and gives everyone their percentages.”

Opal’s jaw dropped and she stared at them in shock. A man came out of the back dressed similarly to Pearl in a black button up and black slacks. While Pearl had black boots, this guy had white sneakers.

“This is Topaz, one of the other waiters,” Pearl said as the guy came up to shake her hand. “This is Opal, Garnet’s replacement.”

The guy lifted an eyebrow. “That’s some pretty big shoes to fill.”

Opal blushed. “I’m just surprised you guys are hiring six months out for that.”

Topaz shook his head. “That’s Diamond being a worry-wart again. If you don’t work out, he wants time to hire someone else.”

“You know,” Opal said, putting her hands on her hips, “for someone who insists everyone go by gem nicknames Diamond is sounding more and more like the perfect boss.”

The other three laughed.

“Pretty much,” Pearl said, “He may be an annoying hipster, but he’s good boss and he’ll take care of you.”

Topaz hip checked Steve. “Unless you’re Garnet, here.”

Steve pushed him playfully. “Shut it, man.”

Topaz laughed. “This idiot accidentally hit on Diamond’s daughter.”  

Pearl grinned. “In front of her fiance no less.”

Steve threw his arms in the air. “No one told me who they were. I had been here for like a week. And every signal she was sending me was that she was interested.”

Topaz patted him on the back. “You keep telling yourself that, man.”

Steve shook his head. “Let’s get to work before Diamond comes out and starts yelling at us.”

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16 Part 17 Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1@scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster

[spacerockwriting]

I just wanna show of some random bits of part 4 of Soft Bitch. Mostly the chaotic parts.

“So, middle school,” Mickey says, leaning against the counter. Finn’s been in and out of school for the last three weeks of the year, going to all sorts of doctors’ appointments, therapist appointments, and whatever else. On top of Ally’s speech, and Monnie’s new desire to start dance, their schedule is getting pretty full. “What the fuck do we do?”

“Pray Finn’s not the next King of the Southside?”

Mickey laughs. “Kid’s already getting that title.”

--

“Finn doesn’t have tits. If anyone needs those things, it’s Ian.”

Ian lightly swats his husband, causing Trevor to laugh. “God that tattoo is ugly.”

“Who the fuck put tits on a portrait of their dead mother?”

“I know!” Trevor laughs.

--

“Mick, we gotta do something about this.”

“Leave Chuck Norris alone. It’s punk.”

“Mick,” Ian says, gently combing through their son’s curls. “He’s got scrambled eggs in his bangs.”

“Monnie had oatmeal in her hair, and I don’t see you making a fuss over that. Thought we were being all gender affirming and shit?”

“Mickey,” Ian says, shaking his head. “This isn’t about Ally being a boy. This is about you and your dumb obsession with their ginger hair.”

“It’s not an obsession.”

“I still remember your stupid expression when I rolled into prison with black hair.”

“That shit was fucking ugly, and you know it.”

“You still got upset when I shaved it.”

“Yeah, well, you looked even more fucking insane with it growing out, but damn, could’ve left a little bit. Didn’t want anyone thinking I was banging one of Terry’s fucking racist assholes.”

--

Ian shakes his head. “Kinda wanted to actually know what I was learning. How I tested out of English.”

“I married a fucking nerd.”

“Newd!” Ally repeats. “Fucking newd!”

--

Mickey lifts her up, placing her on the counter. She stands up on little feet, taking off her plastic tiara. Beaming, she shoves it in Mickey’s hair. “Baba pwincess,” she says, loudly.

“Monnie, careful,” Ian calls from across the room. “And yeah, Baba’s a pretty princess.” Ian beams, taking his phone out to take a picture.

“You send that to Lip and I will end you,” Mickey threatens. But the threat is empty.

--

There’s even more laughter and Carl is the one who blurts it out. “Did Debbie fuck a Milkovich? ‘Cause I think Finn’s more like Mickey than us.”

“Well, there was Sandy,” Mickey adds.

“You know what I mean.”

--

Ian grins at Mickey after they put Finn to bed. “Now I remember why I liked these books.”

“Matt Dillon’s fucking hot?”

“Yeah, and his characters always remind me of you, all bad boy and in juvie and shit.”

“Hey, isn’t he trying to get with a redhead in one of the movies?”

Ian snorts, covering his mouth. “He is you.”

Mickey smirks. “Least I’m one of the hot guys. Not unlike that fucking Justin Beiber or whatever that you liked.”

Ian scoffs, playfully swatting at Mickey. “Justin Timberlake. Justin Timberlake,” he repeats. “Do I need to bring out that chart that Mandy and I made back in high school?”

--

. He prefers plugging in the inflatable Santa, the penguins, and the humping reindeer décor. They’re supposed to be grazing grass, but Mickey prefers them grazing ass and Ian doesn’t care either way. Plus, the kids think it’s funny, so there’s that.

“You’re not even hanging lights,” Ian says, stepping down the ladder. “You’re just watching my ass.”

“Ladder says do not leave patrons unattended. Just following basic safety, Man. Isn’t that what Tommy always says on his worksite?

--

anyways, enjoy those little excerpts! Just some bits I love that don't showcase the plot much.

[karisomk]

Túumben comienzo next chapter 3 teaser! Alt! Attuma x Soft! Okoye prompt fic

Below is Alt! Attuma mood board and some of his aesthetic references! Content: Fluff and building romance city.

The closer they got to The Golden Cup cafe, the scent of fresh baked goods and coffee beans became stronger. People coming out and leaving the building with drinks and various sweets in their hands. Attuma held the door open for Okoye to go in first and for any other people who happened to come out of the cafe at that moment. A few people were already standing in line in front of them, Okoye leaned close to speak to Attuma so she wouldn’t have to talk to yell, “It's a little loud right now because it's lunchtime but give it about thirty minutes or an hour it’ll die down soon.”   The bar of the kitchen looked small at first glance, two tablet-like registers were placed in the center surrounded by several displays filled to the brim with a variety of baked goods to be sold. Though there was only one open occupied by an employee, the young girl walked as fast as she could while passing the orders to the kitchen to be made. Small round tables set for pairs or groups were spaced out and filled around the place. Soft jazz music was playing over the speakers, with lights set to a dim overhead. The window blinds were drawn up on the large windows to bring natural light into the cafe until nighttime. There were  double doors on the side of the cafe leading to a canopy-covered patio filled with more small tables and a couple of benches to sit. “I love this place because it's local and well this place tastes better than starbucks even if starbucks can be convenient” Okoye pointed to the long black chalk board used as a menu. The daily flavors of their coffee drinks were written neatly in colorful chalk. Small cute little hand drawn pictures of coffee cups and baked goods were framed around the lists. “They always change their menu daily. I try to stop here at least once or twice a week.” “Starbucks? Don’t tell me you like that burnt coffee bean water too? My cousins love that place.” Attuma teased lightly. Okoye playfully nudged Attuma, ”Hey! Sometimes their caramel drinks are good and sometimes I can’t finish them.” “Because sometimes it tastes burnt, doesn’t it?  You don’t have to lie.” Attuma chuckled and fully laughed when Okoye nudged him again, puffing out her cheeks briefly. “I am just teasing. You’re right it is always a hit or miss but I know what you mean. Have you ever tried making it on your own though?” Attuma lifted a brow still having that teasing smile on his lips. “You mean buying the pre packets you can just stir in hot water?”  Okoye quietly questioned. “No, I mean actually see what they put in their drinks and try to make it. Wait, do they make those too? “ Attuma knitted his brows slightly. Okoye gave Attuma a brief side before huffing slightly,” Who has time for that anyway? And yes, they do and I may have not tried them before.” “Sometimes, you find ways for those guilty pleasures, Okoye.” “Oh whatever, everyone says that. You’re telling me that you would get up early to make yourself a caramel coffee with extra vanilla with ice every morning?” The type of coffee and just a hint of vanilla seemed easy to remember. Attuma made a mental note wondering if he could surprise Okoye with coffee one of these days. “When you run on pure spite, anything is possible” he winked at her. 

[invisibleraven]

Stealing each others clothes and peterpatterlina?

Julie Molina was a clothes thief. Always had been. It started when she was young, using her mom's fancy stage outfits for dress-up, then slowly just keeping them as her mom performed less and less. Then it was an oversized shirt of her dad's when she was sad and it felt like a hug when he wasn't there.

It only got worse as she started dating Luke and Reggie. Sure they had quite a few inches on her (curse her lack of height thanks to her Alvarez genes) but she still loved taking their stuff.

Luke's cut offs were a blessing on hot summer days when the AC just wan't cutting it and she needed a confidence boost. Reggie's flannel was a godsend during her period; the fabric soft and worn enough not to irritate her already sensitive body.

And it wasn't like they didn't steal her stuff right back. If she couldn't find her favourite yellow smile sweater, chances were that one of her boyfriends was sporting it. Luke liked snagging her scarves as a replacement for the one he had stolen from his mom when the fabric was too delicate to risk att gigs anymore.

And Reggie decided he liked the way he looked in her skirts-an experiment that both her and Luke found devastating and distracting all at once.

It had been a day like any other, with Luke parsing out the tabs for his latest song, Julie was looking over their bills, and Reggie was putting away the laundry.

Only he held up one of her skirts-a plain pleated black affair that was honestly too big on her and Julie had said time and time again she should relocate, but had yet to do so, as it was something that went with everything and easy enough to wear. Plus it had pockets, and every girl knew to treasure those more than gold.

“Hey Jules?” Reggie asked. “C-could I try this on?”

“My skirt?” she clarified. “Sure if you want to.”

“At least it’s your colour,” Luke snarked earning him Julie stocking her tongue out and Reggie flipping him off.

Reggie went into the bedroom, and Julie could hear him huffing a bit until a sound of joy sounded, meaning he had found the tiny zipper allowing him to make it much easier to put it on. “Need any help?” she asked through the door.

“Depends on the zipper right now,” Reggie replied, but she heard the sound of him pulling it up, and then silence.

“Reg?” Luke joined her outside the door. “You okay babe?”

Reggie hummed in response. “Can we come in?” Another hun, and so they oh so slowly opened the door. Reggie was standing in front of the floor length mirror, just looking at himself.

Julie bit her lip and grabbed hold of Luke who was staring at Reggie with a slack jawed expression. Sure they knew Reggie was pretty but in the skirt he was downright gorgeous.

“It’s so swishy,” Reggie finally remarked, swaying a little.

“It feels even nicer if you shave your legs,” Julie finally choked out, just imagining his mile long legs all pale and smooth.

“Maybe next time,” Reggie mused. He finally turned to them, looking apprehensive. “Do you like it?”

“What we think doesn’t matter,” Julie said. “Only what you feel. But I got one, am a fan.”

“Luke?”

Luke finally stopped looking like he had swallowed his tongue and came over, his hands drifting over the skirt, and growled. “You need to take it off before we do things that will ruin it.”

“Or I can keep it on and we can wash it later?” he asked with a cheeky grin. “As long as Julie is okay with is having fun in her skirt?”

“Your skirt now lindo,” Julie replied with a smirk, pushing him onto the bed.

And maybe they bought him a few of his own after he wouldn’t stop stealing the others of Julie’s that fit. Even if it meant more laundry, they all agreed it was more than with it.

[solesommerso]

I would just like to request that you continue at some point to post more Zoe/ Street Werewolf au because I loved the first chapter. Thank you for all the hard work you put into your writing.

an alpha red || zoe powell & jim street

|| continuation from this moodboard post

|| tags : werewolves/supernatural au, alpha!street, background case, swearing, luca bashing but it’s not too bad

-

They work the case together, a simple drug bust that Zoe’s seen a million times from her brief time in narcotics. She had to move departments when the smells of everything started to give her pounding headaches, she switched to undercover work after that, much more her style. She’s always worked alone and doesn’t have many good experiences with a partner, but Street flows with her easily, they don’t run into any problems as they try and nail down guy who ran from their initial raid. Street tells her they’ll be done with the case soon, that he has faith in her skills, it’s refreshing to be lifted up by someone rather than put down.

Zoe wishes the rest of swat could be like that. Nobody else in the building seems to understand any of Powells actions or even what she’s trying to say, she’s critiqued on practically every move she makes, whether she means to be doing something wrong or not.

Luca’s the worst of it. Hicks and Hondo have loosened up a fair amount, but Luca can’t let go of the few stunts she pulled before she became an official swat officer. It’s annoying. Street must pick up on it when Luca walks in the room, his nose twitches and his eyes glance at Zoe for a split second too long.

“Did you guys get anything?” The storage unit they rummaged through was a big waste of time as all it was filled with was old childhood memorabilia from the main suspects past, all baseball caps, and funny enough, werewolf books. Street and Zoe both blissfully ignored those though, Powell only taking a minute to chuckle to herself at how badly written they were, well, from a real life werewolf perspective anyways.

“Nothing. What about you and Deac? Anything from the banks?” Luca shakes his head with a sigh, not even sparing a glance to Zoe as he starts to type away on the tablet he has in hand.

“Someone has to know where he went.” It just had to be the main suspect escaping from the raid, none of his “friends” are giving any information up either.

Zoe wishes she could grill them like she would when undercover, sure it was unethical and will probably send her to hell when she dies, but it was effective and her supervisors always looked the other way when her suspects came in with a black eye or bloodied lip. She never took it too far, never pushed someone that didn’t deserve it, and the bastards sitting in holding right now definitely deserve it. But that was before she was bit, she’s not sure if she has enough control to not take things too far now. Maybe Street can help with it.

“Hey we got a lead!” Hondos voice cuts through the room, Tan behind him with one of those smiles Zoe’s noticed he gets when he figured something out. Victor helped Luca train the recruits quite a few times so Zoe’s more familiar with him, he’s quiet but nice, the least prodding of the trainers she had to listen to all day.

“So, we know Blake’s parents are dead and have been dead, but Tan found an old house they all used to live at. It was bought under his mothers maiden name that’s why we didn’t catch it before.” The map of where the house is pops up on the screen, it’s on the outskirts of the city and far off from any other homes nearby, perfect place for a fugitive to hide.

“What are we waiting for?” Luca questions with more impatient than even Zoe herself, and she’s been waiting for this shift for months now.

“Hicks is getting the warrant then we roll out.”

“Is she coming?” The bitterness takes Zoe off guard, sure she knows Luca doesn’t like her but they had no issues this morning at the first raid.

The room stops with not even a breath being heard after Luca speaks. Street looks ready to snap and Hondos blinking in confusion so many times Powell suspects he’s never seen Luca be so outright hostile towards someone. She wills herself away from saying anything back, she could argue but todays supposed to be good, it needs to be, it’s her first real day on swat and she’s determined to make it good. The wolf in her is more hurt than her human side, she can feel the whimper pushing at her throat, the question of what she did to him, what’s warranted this all.

“Of course she’s coming, she’s been working the case all day.” Street’s tone is level and has none of the anger Zoe expected to hear considering his face being locked tight with irritation. Luca sputters a moment, twisting his lips, almost in disgust. She feels herself instinctively shrink down, she could get up in his face and start to yell, but that’s not what today is about. She just has to keep reminding herself of that.

“She was sloppy in the field this morning.” A beat passes before Streets arms go over his chest, his jaw somehow clenching harder, it has to be uncomfortable by this point.

“No she wasn’t, I was with her the whole time and she was fine.” There’s a look shared between Deacon and Tan, letting Zoe know this must happen more often than she assumed.

“Her footing was off going into the house.” It wasn’t, she knows it wasn’t. She made sure of it.

“Seriously? You want to bench her because of her footing being off? Get over yourself Luca.” Powell gasps small in surprise, both because having someone stand up for her is new, and because the sass Street just used was both shocking and iconic, she wonders if he gets like this a lot.

“It’s a valid reason!”

“Okay that’s enough, Powell isn’t getting benched and if her footing is off you can help her practice.” Hondo finally cuts in, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face before Hicks comes barreling in telling them to roll out.

Zoe lets Luca leave first, staying in her place behind Street but noting that his shoulders are still tense. Guilt twists in her gut, she’s already causing fucking problems, Street shouldn’t have to fight her battles or deal with any of this. He’s only ever been nice to her.

“Hey you didn’t have to do that.” She stops him just for a second, a hand on his shoulder that softens his pissed off expression.

“Your footing wasn’t off and you deserve to see this case to the end.” He says simply, as though it’s not the nicest thing she’s heard since moving to La.

“Thanks. Luca uh- doesn’t like me that much.” Her hand drops from Streets shoulder to rub at the back of her neck subconsciously, she hates already having someone dislike her. She’s never been one for trusting people or having many friends, but people usually tolerate her, assume she’s just quiet and shy, recognize that she’s smart and a good cop, that her being a loner doesn’t affect how good she is at her job. They don’t see her as fuck-up like Luca paints her.

“Well he should get over himself.” Streets eyes flash red, a bright red, an alpha red.

Zoe instinctively steps back and lowers her shoulders, she’s never met an alpha before, she’s read about them and how much power they hold but having one right in front of her is unreal. She’s never even met another wolf period, she doesn’t know what to do. But then Street blinks and the red is gone, almost looking regretful but she’s unable to read into it as Hondo’s pulling them to Black Betty.

[eddieslittleslutmuffin]

✿Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic! Please remember to reblog, like, and leave a nice comment. Follow me, and maybe you’ll see more nice stuff, idk I can’t tell you what to do. But I’d appreciate it! More stuff pinned to my page! Kay bye!

Paring: Eddie x Black!oc(s) bffs

Warnings: mentions of polyamory, heavy suggestive flirting.

Word count: 1k

Boys like girls, that like girls too pt1

Breonna and I have been best friends since birth, our families grew up together. We share everything: clothes, hair accessories, secrets, and even sometimes…boys. Upon entering Hawkins High School, we’ve had our eye on Eddie Munson for quite a while, but I’ve always been too shy to make a move. We promised to never talk to a guy we’re interested in unless we’re doing it together. So Breonna thought it would be a good idea for us to join Hellfire, it was her way of “encouraging” me to talk to Eddie.

“Come on Dania, this is our chance, we should have been joined. You don’t wanna graduate, and never know what his dick at least looks like.” She whispered to me, we stood on our side of the hallway adjacent to Eddie, and his crew. Breonna was right, I bit my lip, and moved to approach the group of boys. We link our arms together as we cut through the ever flowing sea of students.

“Look who it is, the bestest friends in all of Hawkins. How can I help you ladies?” A shit eating grin on Eddie’s pretty face, Breonna always spoke up for us when I’m too shy. She licked her lips seductively, one hand on her hip, and her eyes nearly undressing him.

“Still got open seats for Hellfire? You know we’ve had our eye on it for a while.” She purrs, the other boys surrounding Eddie just watched with their mouths hung open. Most, if not all, the girls in school were scared to approach him. They all thought he would put some demonic spell on them, so typically they stayed away. However, we found Eddie’s peacocking to be quite attractive, the way he walks around school wearing his freak flag proudly like armor. I found confidence admirable.

“Is that the only thing you’ve had your eyes on, sweetheart?” His eyes moving over to me, Breonna’s hand moves to my lower back, and pushes me forward as if she’s offering me as a sacrifice.

“And what about you princess, have I– Hellfire caught your attention as well?” His voice softer than when he talked to Breonna, I tug on my bottom lip tasting my grape flavored lip gloss. His finger reached out to caress the curve of my cheek, from the corner of my eye Breonna is smirking devilishly as she watches Eddie nearly foam at the mouth.

“You, and the DnD club always stood out to me Eddie. I guess I’ve been too scared to ask.” My lips roll inward, those beautiful brown eyes of his linger on my full plump lips. For a moment he looks to Breonna whose arm is around my shoulder, and her hand accidentally swipes my chest. Then her hand came back down around my waist pulling me into her, I was a bit shorter than Breonna, so her head could rest on mine.

“How about this, the two of you sit in on one of our games tonight, and see how you like it. See if you wanna stay.” Eddie turned back to Breonna, his demeanor playful, and flirtatious again.

“We’d love to watch, we’ll be there.” She said speaking for the both of us, the bell rang loudly throughout the halls signifying the start of another class period. We say our goodbyes, and head to our next class. I turn over my shoulder to see Eddie still watching us, a grin stretched across his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Breonna and I walked over to the Drama building. Right before she opened the doors I stopped her.

“What’s wrong babe?” She asked, placing both her hands on my shoulders.

“I don’t know.” I mumbled, my brain is a jumbled mess, I wanted to, but at the same time I guess I was nervous. Eddie isn’t like any other boy in Hawkins period, what if he doesn’t like me because I’m too soft and girly?

“Hey, it’s okay. If you’re feeling uncomfortable we can simply just sit there and enjoy ourselves. Even if you change your mind, and you want to gobble his dick, I'm with you the whole time.” I giggled at the last part, I did indeed want to suck his dick. I often daydreamed what it looks like; I wonder how thick, or long it might be. Rather he’s circumcised or not.

“Dani, are we gonna stand out here all night, or what?”

I nodded my head in response, she pulled the door open holding it for me.

“Ladies! Right on time, we were just about to start, and look, I have a seat for both of you.” Eddie gestures, he dramatically greets us, it’s one of the things I loved about him. He loved putting on a show.

“Sorry we’re late, we had detention for Ms. Evans.” I said rolling my eyes, we wouldn’t have had detention if Breonna would have kept her mouth closed.

“No matter, you’re here now. I’m not sure if you met everyone but these are your Hellfire team mates. We stick together, and protect our own around here. You know…evil outside forces and all that.” Eddie introduced us to the boys, Mike Wheeler seems the least interested, but I’ve come to learn that’s his normal face.

We take a seat on either side of him, Bronna to his left, and I’m to his right. I actually ended up losing myself in the game, becoming captivated by Eddie’s acting skills, and storytelling. For a second during the boys discussion time, Eddie turned to me, smirking. His one hand on Breonna’s knee, the other hand flexed a bit, maybe he was thinking about touching me?

“What do you think? Are they gonna make it?” His voice hushed so that only I could hear, those eyes of his studied my face, and clothes. I’ve never looked at Eddie this closely before, he really is handsome, with his brown eyes, and soft, almost nonexistent dimples. His lips are plump, and light red.

“Oh well, I’m not really sure, I can’t say I’ve been paying much attention…sorry.” I lied, I perfectly understood what was going on, I just didn’t trust myself to be able to think clearly enough to explain it when he’s this close to me.

“Then what have you been thinking about this whole time Hm?” Eddie teased, I was going to answer, but then the boys burst out into an argument. The three of them were shouting over each other, it looked serious, but he quickly handled them.

“Hey! If you can’t settle your petty disagreements, I’m more than willing to do it for you, is that what you want?” He asked, giving them a warning glare, they shook their heads “no” the young boys stared at Eddie wide eyed.

“Then Shut it!” He shouted, a stressed tone to his voice, I feel like he does that often, yell at them. Eddie inhaled sharply then turned back to me, I looked past him to see Breonna giving me an encouraging smile.

“Maybe…after tonight’s game is done you can give us a one on one. I mean, I know you have the whole game play memorized right? Oh, um…unless you’ve got something to do later.” I stumbled my way through the whole thing, his eyes softened significantly. His other hand caressed my cheek again, I looked over to the huddled group of boys to see if they were seeing this, but they weren’t even paying attention.

“Don’t look at them, look at me.” Eddie commanded, his fingers grabbing me by the chin, and turning my head back to him. My heart felt like it was doing back flips, his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip. The skin on my arms prickled all the way up to my nipples, that same sensation traveled down between my thighs. I crossed my legs trying to alevite myself, not only did it not work, but it drew Eddie’s attention there for a moment.

“You okay Dani?” He did nothing to hide the knowing grin spreading across his lips, no I wasn’t okay, and he knew that.

Suddenly a timer went off, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Eddie swiftly turned back to the boys, his fingers pressed together, and his head tilted downward.

“Go on.” Eddie gestured to the board in front of them, the boys made their play, and by the end Eddie was laughing evilly.

“Oh children, have you not learned? You cannot defeat me with your measly attacks!” He slammed a little board piece down that was shaped like some kind of monster. He stood dramatically as they breathed heavily in defeat, it seemed like it went this way often.

“Oh come on I call bullshit!” Dustin cried out, he flipped through the Dungeons and Dragons book furiously, but came up empty.

“That is why…I am Thee Dungeon Master boys.” Eddie fell back into his seat, they were so disappointed I felt bad for them, but they’ll be right back at it again next week I assume. They collect their things, stuff it into their book bags, and throw it over their shoulders.

“See you tomorrow children.” Eddie waved them goodbye, he watched them ride off on their bikes for as long as he could. He turned to Breonna and I, a smug look on his face.

“This is where the real fun starts.” From out of his pocket he pulled two pre rolled blunts, and a lighter.

Bronna got up from her seat, she pushed my hair over my shoulder, grabbed me by the hand and she turned to Eddie, “Now this is a party.”

[getting-quicker]

Whatever the Price

(Alright, a story just to show you I CAN be active on here.) Tom was going through a hard time. In reality his life was fine. He was decent looking. Maybe could cut his hair shorter. He was in alright shape. Maybe a bit scrawnier than he should be. He had a job to cover his bills. Maybe that was about it.

He was young and boring to put it plainly. And madly in love. Well, he knew it wasn’t love. He knew it was more of an infatuation. Every day he thought of her. He thought of her at work where she kept a cubicle further down the hall. He thought of her on his way home and when he would get stuck in traffic. He would even think of her shamefully when he was alone in his bedroom with a tissue in hand.

Lately the lonely lovebird was thinking of her at the slummy bar where the drinks were cheap. He felt like a loser. In reality it wasn’t that bad. He might have done well to actually speak to the cute co-worker. Perhaps Tom was greedy, fantasizing about holding the girl at night. Perhaps he should have stuck to his reality, sorry as it was, the fateful night he uttered her name.

“Samantha…” it was a pitiful development for Tom. In bed he would say her name just to hear it aloud. Now with the drinks pouring he would sometimes whisper it at the bar. A grown man crying over his drink? Oh that would have been sad to see, Tom agreed. But he was just so much in love with that damn Samantha.

So hung up on the girl with the smile too bright he felt he could never approach, did another soul hear his wimpy woes.

“Dame troubles is it?” It was the bartender, Tom realized. He’d only been to the sleazy bar a handful of times by this point but he was certain it was the first time he was seeing the woman with the white hair behind the bar.

The woman’s hair was thick yet well groomed, rising high over her head. She was pale with black lips, along with a dark dress that accentuated her well endowed bosom. Simply put she was a hell of a card. Sparkles, pearls, and all. Far too fine and exotic for this dump, Tom thought. But still, she had heard, to his modest regret, his slip of the name. At least this beautiful woman was a shoulder to cry on, he figured.

“The typical troubles, really,” Tom said before taking in the rest of his drink. “I like her. She doesn’t know I exist.” That much wasn’t so true. She even knew Tom’s name and it was always a heartwarming delight when she would call him by his name when saying hello. If only they passed by more often he often wished. And there was much to wish for. “Just wish I wasn’t drinking alone over her, you know?”

“Rather just be drinking over her, eh?” The bartender gave a sly smile, showing off her plump and dark lips. She refilled Tom’s glass then. “A pretty girl then?”

The prettiest Tom might say. One of those petite redheads that would always drive him wild. “I just think she’s cute.” It was funny, Tom thought. He’d never admit as much but a few drinks was all it took to let a stranger know all about it. He took another sip. Too much tonight, he felt, but damn did he have to dull the pain now that he was going on about it. It made him realize then: I really am pathetic. 

The bartender went on while Tom finished his drink, “And I bet you have all sorts of fantasies with the girl too, right?”

Tom blushed, “No. I mean, hey, I’m not a pervert. Just hung up, that’s all. Just wish things could be different.” And he’d give anything for things to be different. It was tragic he nearly stood with the decision to speak to her tomorrow when the bartender spoke before he could.

“Well, why don’t you let old Stella here give you another round for luck. But not the usual poison.” The bartender called Stella reached under the bar and pulled out an interesting looking bottle. Maroon in color yet no label. “Can’t say it’s one of those confidence giving drinks but maybe it’ll help you feel a little luckier. On the house if you make one promise.” At this Tom raised a brow. “Relax, nothing…TOO sinister. Just, if anything should change in your relationship, come back and let me know all about it.”

She poured the drink into Tom’s glass and gave another strange smile, “Want to see how this blend fares, that’s all.”

Tom let out a sigh and held the glass up. What the hell did he have to lose? And down the hatch it went.

When he awoke the next morning it was hard to recollect the day before. One too many at the bar, Tom thought. Just one too many. He dragged his groggy body out of bed and drove to work with a sigh at every red light. For at each red light he thought of the redheaded Samantha. Just another day, he had thought on the elevator ride up to the office. 

It was the ordinary walk up to his desk until he heard his name called out. “Tom!” A voice of excitement. A voice of joy. Samantha’s voice.

“Samantha?” He noticed she was standing right by him. Not just walking by and saying hello like she sometimes would. There she was. Feet on the ground. The trim ginger smiling before him.

“New shirt?”

Tom paused to inspect his dress shirt, “Huh? Oh, no. I’ve had this one.”

“Oh. Well I never noticed you before,” the girl’s face went almost as red as her hair, “I mean, I never noticed your shirt before. It’s a nice color. Really compliments your eyes. Do you work out?”

At this, Tom’s eyes went wide with surprise, “What? Uh, no.” He tried going to the gym once before but he had an excellent metabolism that kept him naturally skinny. “Not really a gym guy, I guess, heh…” She was finally talking to him and that was the best remark he could make? He wanted to slap himself there and then. Thankfully he had better control over himself than that.

But still Samantha laughed. A warmhearted chuckle. “I know what you mean. It can be a hassle finding the time. Still, you look good for not needing to go there.” There was an awkward pause then. Tom didn’t know what else to say. Was he still dreaming? Samantha smiled again, “Um, so, what do you do on your weekends?”

This had to be a dream, Tom thought.

“Hey, Sam!” A woman’s voice from the other end of the room called out, “did you see the new memo yet?”

“Bet right there, Jane!” Samantha was about to run off but gave Tom one more look before leaving, “I gotta go. Bye T-o-o-m-m-m.” She drew out his name at the end. And the smile she gave? Tom knew it was meant to say: Let’s talk again sometime.

Tom knew Samantha was a kind and caring person. It was part of the reason he liked her so much. But never before had she made sudden conversation like that. And certainly never before had she shown so much interest in him.

“The drink from last night,” he muttered to himself in disbelief. Could it have been? He did feel lucky. The luckiest man on Earth, in fact. But how could a drink he took at a slummy bar make Samantha so into him like that? No, Tom thought. Just a lucky fluke. It wasn’t like she was into him.

It wasn’t long after that thought Samantha appeared again at Tom’s desk, “Hey, Tom! I got you a coffee.”

Tom accepted the surprise cup of steaming hot coffee, “Woah, Samantha. Thank you.”

“Please,” the girl smiled as warmly as the drink heating Tom’s hands, “call me Sam.”

So happy was Tom, the apparent best day of his life was over in the blink of an eye, and down his hands went on the sticky surface of the bar, “What was in that drink you gave me last night?”

The white haired Stella was wiggling her large rear from behind the bar as she wiped away at one of her glasses. She turned around with a grin, “Hm? Did somebody get lucky today?”

“Yeah, I mean, not like that but I do feel pretty damn lucky.” Tom made himself comfortable on the stool. “She was talking to me all day. At every break she came up to ask what I was up to or to tell me something funny she had heard. It’s like we were friends but…”

“But you wish you were more than just friends?” Stella cooed.

Tom shrugged, “Sure. Absolutely. I was only going to say…well, I don’t know if we’re really friends just like that. One drink here and the next day she wants to know everything about me? You gotta tell me what it was.” Tom smiled and leaned over the bar as if he was in on the same joke as Stella. “Had to do with pheromones or something. Right?”

“Up up up,” Stella held her hand up and rested her eyes, “the artist doesn’t reveal her tricks.” She opened her eyes and reached for another bottle. “But since you did as I asked, how about another round? Though this one’s a little stronger.”

“I think I might be good. Assuming she still wants to talk to me again tomorrow. Plus, I feel like my head is so clear, I don’t exactly want to cloud it.”

“Sweety, you’ve only had a taste,” already Stella was pouring the maroon liquid into a glass in front of Tom. “This time you’ll be more than just a curiosity to her. She’ll want you all for herself. To put it plainly: She’ll want you.”

Tom liked the sound of that, “Heh. Well, cheers then.” He took in the drink happily and stood.

“Where are you going?” Stella asked. “You didn’t think that drink was free, did you?”

“Uh huh, so that’s your game.” Explains the first drink on the house, Tom thought. “Fair enough,” he reached for his wallet.

“Oh no. Not money, sweety. You’ll pay another way.”

“Another way?” Tom asked.

Stella only turned back around and returned to her glasses. Tom eyed her voluptuous booty, taking more note of it wobbling back and forth this time. He felt a hard on forming in his pants. 

So he left.

He didn’t even feel guilt when he jacked off to the thought of Sam that night. Instead, he felt a great relief. One that felt allowed. Earned. He fell into a deep sleep after that relief, looking forward to the next day.

Yet so deep was the sleep that Tom had overslept by a few minutes. “Ah, shit,” he silenced his alarm clock. He splashed some water on his face, skipped breakfast, and ran out the door while still buttoning his shirt.

He looked at his watch once he skid into the elevator, “Ah man, too close.” He was still on time. He chalked it up to his head being off in LaLa-Land, blissful with how things had turned so wonderfully with Sam. Still he felt like a lucky man, making it in on time.

“Happy Friday,” it was Sam’s voice, spoken like a pur. What more, she was sitting in Tom’s chair.

“Sam?” He asked, almost out of breath.

“Ooh, look at you panting like an animal,” the smile wasn’t just friendly. It was outright playful. “Is that why you don’t go to the gym, Tom? You run a marathon to work?”

Tom smiled like a dope, “No. Hah, no, I just woke up late this morning. Had to race to get here.”

“That’s too bad,” Sam went on with her playful tone, “I hate to see you so worked up. Or maybe,” she put a finger to her pink, glistening lips, “I would like to see you all worked up.”

Tom felt himself getting hard again. Shit, he thought. Not at work. Not in front of Sam. That’s just embarrassing. “Sam-”

She stood from his chair, “You’re really cute when you’re all flustered. Did you know that?” She took his hand, nearly making his heart explode. He also felt he was fully erect by that touch of skin. Strange, though. As excited as he felt downstairs, he knew he ought to be packing a bigger bulge in his pants. At least whatever shape his pants were taking, Sam wasn’t noticing. Instead, she eyed him seductively. “No need to be in such a rush, Tom. It’s okay to take things slow.”

Sam left the cubicle while Tom eyed her butt swaying with each step. His eyes shot up and she looked back, “But let’s not take things too slow, hmm?”

Tom felt himself getting hot in the face, “I know a bar.” Sam gave a wink and a giggle before she left.

Holy shit, Tom thought, collapsing in his chair. He was feeling so worked up now, more from the hustle of getting to work on time. Damn, he thought: I nearly unloaded in my pants a second ago.

It was no surprise Tom raced to the bathroom next. He could still feel his erection raging but why did it feel so lacking at the same time? Once he got one going he knew he could expect the weight of it against his thigh. But it was hardly poking forward at the moment.

Whatever, he thought: Just need to collect myself in the bathroom. But would he really wank one out in the stalls? No, he knew that was a dirty thought. “How’d that get in my head,” he wondered.

But there was no time to wonder. At the urinal, Tom wanted nothing more than to scream.

It was like looking down to find your leg missing. Flavored with the horror of seeing a blood trail across the room, culminating in a hungry wolf licking its chops. 

Oh how Tom wanted to shriek at the sight of that kind of impossible terror. For how could it be possible? Looking down his slender body, seeing his two-inch cock fully erect. 

“What the fuh-” was all he could mutter in awe, in despair, in hopeless incomprehensibility. Tom had a decent six incher. Maybe a bit more than that, he would be proud to think. Yet at least he used to. Shrunken down to below a third of its size was his micropenis. Sticking out and ready to burst despite its pathetic size. 

He couldn’t stare for long. The bathroom door opened and he tucked away his little pecker before rushing away from the impossible sight. How? He wondered back at his desk, his hand lightly pressed against his little manhood, if manhood it could be called. Just how was this possible?

“Got you another coffee,” Sam said with a skip in her step. She placed the drink at his desk, “We still on for tonight? You gotta tell me where.”

“Huh?” Tom snapped back to reality. “Yeah, of course.” Wait. How could he take Sam out with such a tiny member stuck between his legs? “Actually, maybe I should take care of some things first.” That bartender. That bitch! It was something to do with the drinks she was giving him.

“Awwh, come on, it’s Friday!” 

The girl of his dreams begging him to go out. And there he sat with a cock smaller than it had been in high school. “I guess I can take care of my business there.” And Stella would be at the bar if he took Sam to that one. Two birds and one stone. Or rather one miserable cock. What a nightmare it all seemed to be suddenly.

“Good,” Sam cheered. “And maybe later we can get down to business.” She giggled and Tom struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. 

He felt like a kid when he went back to urinate in the bathroom. All he had to do was open his zipper and let it loose. How would it work in the bedroom? No way, Tom cursed. He had to figure this out with that white haired bitch. He thought of Stella’s ass then. Just like that his little friend was stiff, though Tom wouldn’t have known it from just looking. He sighed.

“This is the place?” Sam said as Tom pointed out the bar. “Thomas, I thought you a classier man.”

“It’s a little rundown,” Tom admitted as the sound of a gunshot and a car alarm went off a few blocks over. “The whole neighborhood maybe.” He smiled awkwardly, “It’s got personality though.”

“Hmp. Better be a lot of personality. But drinks are drinks, right? As long as they get the job done.”

“Right,” Tom felt another erection take hold as Sam took hold of his hand, “As long as they get the job done…” Was he always this quick to excite? Perhaps it was all just the strange circumstances that he found himself in. Then again, he hadn’t gotten this far with a lady before, so he knew he couldn’t mess up.

Sam took to a booth and Tom promised he would be right back with their drinks. The music blared on loudly and angrily. He felt it channeling his own mood. There at the bar was the white haired demon he was hoping to find. “Hey,” he said to Stella bluntly.

Stella was busy pouring drinks for other patrons, “Hey,” she said plainly, as if she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“You want to tell me what was in that last drink?” Tom asked, anger clearly present in his tone if not restricted. 

Stella peeked over to Sam at her booth. She smiled, “The right amount of luck it seems. That your dame?”

“That’s the girl, yeah,” Tom nodded before leaning over, “I think you know what else happened.”

“Hmm. Not happy with the ‘little’ side effect, are we?”

“No. I’m not happy. I need you to fix it.”

“Sweety, isn’t it enough to have your girl head over heels for you?”

“Not if I’m…” Tom went quiet as a couple approached the bar for their next rounds. He let Stella tend to them before continuing in a quieter, more submissive voice. “You gotta make me bigger.”

“Bigger, eh?” Stella grew a devilish smile. “That’s a specialty I can help with. Fine, but only because you’re becoming such a regular here.” Stella tossed up a bottle in the air and snatched it. She poured the maroon bottle with a glass containing something sparkling and purple. Tom doubted it was sparkling wine. 

With another sigh he took out his wallet. “Let me pay my tab.”

“You’re all caught up, sweety,” Stella gave the drink a swirl as a red and purple mist danced away from it. “And like last time, this one comes with its own price.”

“Then I don’t want it.”

“Then my advice is to start enjoy being small. I bet your girl won’t mind.”

Tom shook his head in disgust, “Damn it,” he said before downing the drink like medicine. 

His head was feeling fuzzy back at the booth. Three times he got up to use the bathroom, feeling a bit more sluggish each go. Three times he checked in the stalls to see if his cock had returned to normal. It hadn’t. His disappointment looking down his slender and toned body to the sad thumb below was considerable. The third time he eyed it over his curved tummy it was enough to make him storm out in a rage and confront Stella. Alas the bartender was gone and Sam was eager to leave as well.

“Come on, Tom,” she nudged her head onto his shoulder, “why don’t you show me your place.”

Tom was nervous. He was still small despite Stella’s promise but he questioned if perhaps Sam wouldn’t mind that after all. “Alright.”

The entire drive home made his heart thump against his chest. His hand bumped against his stomach when he went to feel how hard it was pumping. Odd. His chest felt somewhat soft when he pressed his hand into it. And his seatbelt was feeling tighter. He adjusted it for room as he tried to prepare for the worst. Fingers crossed, he hoped he was still the luckiest man alive.

“You seemed so worried tonight,” Sam giggled, arm locked around Tom’s on the way to his front door. “I don’t make you nervous do I?”

“Heh, maybe a little,” Tom said, unlocking the door. “You are the cutest girl I kn-oof-” The side of his body whacked the door entrance. That was tactless, Tom thought. Probably because he was trying to fit Sam through the frame with him. None the less Sam giggled.

“Easy there, big boy,” Sam said.

Tom’s bed waited up the stairs. Sam gave him a fine show leading him up the steps, her ass dancing before him with each step. Already he was getting hard. And he knew it was with his small package. 

By the time he was up the steps he was panting and wet in the face with sweat like he had raced to work all over again. “You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t go to the gym,” her voice was a little less playful than it was before. 

“No,” Tom admitted, too winded to properly take on the remark. He was feeling so hot, and bloated on top of that, he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. But then there was the other heat building in his groin. It wanted him to go for it.

“Well, let’s try and get comfortable then,” Sam said. There was an idea, Tom thought. Inside Tom’s bedroom, Sam noticed the bathroom to the side, “How about you splash some water on your face. If that doesn’t wake you up maybe I will.” Her perky tone was back to Tom’s relief. Some cool water on his face also sounded good as well.

Following her suggestion, Tom stumbled before the sink and splashed some water on his face. Hearing Sam get on top of his bed, he looked to the door before he did the mirror. This was it. Damn it, he thought, he knew he was still small. But somehow he felt big. Bigger than ever. Yes, this was it. Sam would see past size. Stella had pulled through enough with those strange drinks. It was time, Tom decided. Time he would fulfill his fantasy and give his virginity to the girl he was madly in love with.

“Taking your time, Tom?”

He waited all his life for this moment, it seemed, “Waited long enough.” He bumped his body through the doorway and unbuttoned his shirt before Sam. Damn, that felt good to do, he thought. With a groan of relief he tossed down his dress shirt and threw off his shirt beneath, letting Sam see his naked body from the waist up.

“Ewwh,” Sam muttered.

Did she just say ew? “What?” Tom asked.

“Tommy, geez,” Sam, naked herself, flinched behind the blanket before Tom could see her chest clearly. “I knew you were out of shape but I never knew you were…well, I didn't know you were full on fat.”

Full on what? Tom almost laughed. “What are you takin-”

He spotted the mirror over his dresser. Sure enough, a very fat man was looking back at him. A cold sweat took him as he noticed the fat man in the mirror was wearing his face, albeit covered in a soft layer of chub and sporting a well defined double chin.

He moved up his chunky arms to see if the reflection would also do so, a feat that took more effort than he expected. When the reflection obeyed his sluggish movements, and the weight of his arms made sense, Tom nearly had a heart attack. Whether from shock or cholesterol he wasn’t certain. 

His once skinny body now stored in an enormous suit of blubber. Fat moobs laid out and looking partially deflated over a great and blubberhouses yet tug belly. His fat rolls stacked atop each, especially at his widened waist. How his pants hadn’t snapped he didn’t know. How he hadn’t noticed his body succumbing to blatant and morbid obesity he hadn’t a clue. What Tom did know, was as Sam had said: He was full on fat. And ironically that was putting it lightly.

He tried to speak but a light belch, hotly contained within his mouth, answered for him. He thought if he screamed then he might only belch.

Sam let out an exhale. It sounded like disgust. “That stupid shirt. Can’t believe I complimented it,” she had tried to say that part quietly but Tom had heard it. “Sorry to be blunt, Tommy. You looked better with the shirt on.”

“I uh…I…” What was there to say? This wasn’t some trick of the drink. There was no other word that explained it all: Magic. A curse. There was no explanation other than that. Unless he awoke from the nightmare. He pinched one of his flabby fat rolls. He didn’t wake up.

“Speechless?” Sam managed to say. She was amused to ask but instantly looked disinterested after that. “First time, isn’t it? Well, fuck it. If you don’t smother me to death you might be full of surprises rather than junk food.” She chuckled but Tom could only blush. He was still aroused but now there was a flame of humiliation spreading throughout his soft and jiggly body.

“S-Sam…” He managed to stutter. Why wasn’t she freaking out? Surely she knew he was a lot more skinnier with his clothes on. 

“Ugh, what? Are we doing this or are you stuck in the doorframe?”

He went straight for the question, “Have I always been fat?”

“Huh? Why are you asking me? You’ve been a porker ever since I came to the office. If I had to guess you were always snacking too much growing up…and growing out, heh.” Her brief amusement was again gone within a moment. “Come on, already, fatty. Let’s see if you can burn some carbs. I’m throwing you a bone here, don’t make me change my mind.”

The dream, Tom remembered. Yes, Sam was still his dream girl. He was just bigger. Bigger…that bit- He stopped mid-thought. That very unkind woman at the bar. Yes, just as she promised. He was bigger now. And more excited than ever, he felt. So he waddled over and struggled onto the bed, making it creak, and Sam cringe as his body wobbled about from all the movement. 

“Lose the pants, big boy,” Sam ordered, “let’s see if you’re at least big where it counts.” 

Let’s, Tom agreed. He was ready to explode down there, feeling so aroused to be in a bed with the naked girl he was so hung up on. Perhaps, he hoped, he was bigger down there after all. Just as Stella had promised. Tom moaned, feeling all too good to shake his gut as he tried to find his belt. Maybe the weight gain was a fair enough price to pay for getting his size back. But the sensations! The mood! It all felt so good. So right…

“Tom?”

“I got it…I…” It didn’t have it. He was losing his grip. He was losing control. “Eh,” he wheezed for air, finally managing to unbuckle his belt. “HRNNNG!” So much relief from that unbuckle, the feeling of his blubber bouncing in freedom as it avalanched forward. All from just unbuckling, and it was already over. For the pleasure had mounted to its limit and when he finally caught a mere glimpse of Sam’s cleavage-

Tom’s cock let loose the creamy load of cum in his underwear, all against his will. And his body let Sam know when the pleasure forced him to utter aloud, “HNNGGG-awhhh…ahhhh…” Feeling his groin soak deeply, he panted for breath.

“Oh…my…God…” The look on Sam’s face was one of a sickly patient ready to vomit. “Did you just…?” Not waiting for Tom to answer, Sam grabbed at Tom’s large belly. The skin on skin contact felt amazing to Tom. The fact it was forcible and unwarned felt even better. And the way she lifted it, feeling his lard ooze about as she looked unearth. Sam watched in real time as Tom continued cum his underwear.

Repulsed, Sam let Tom’s fat gut fall and slap against his body where it began a long and shameful jiggle. “You’re fucking disgusting,” she cried. She leapt out of bed and began to dress.

Clarity returned to Tom with a vengeance. “S-Sam,” he said before another wheeze, “w-wait! I…I’m sorry, that never…that’s never happened to me before…and it’s my first time!”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah. There’s never going to be a first time for you, you fat fucking weirdo. God, what the fuck was I seeing in you? If you ever tell anyone I was here I will see that your fatass is out the front doors before you know when your next meal is. That is if your lardass can even fit through the doors.” She nearly gagged at that point.

Tom had meant to follower after her, “Please, Sam, I’m…hnng…” rather than standing up, his body sort of laid on its side. Now it would be even harder to stand, he realized. And so he ended up laying on his bed, gasping for air, feeling his cum soak down into his chunky thighs.

And he slept.

When Tom awoke it was midday Saturday. The first thing he did was move his hand to try and rub the sleep out of his eyes. But instead his plump hand had rammed itself into his giant belly, giving it a good bounce. Then he remembered and saw that he was still the fat loser who prematurely came right in front of the girl he longed to lay in bed with.

A nightmare, he thought. But the true nightmare was getting out of bed. It took a great effort, a total workout, to just roll back and forth to gain the momentum for sitting up. He saw his sorry self in the mirror again. A pale, shirtless blob sagging in stained sorrow. 

When Tom went to inspect his clothes he found their sizes had all gone up. Though the T-shirt he put on was still rather snug and showed just a bit of hanging chub from the bottom of his grandiose gut. And that was an XXL? The sweat on his sides only made the shirt stick to him even tighter.

When he faced the mirror again he saw his shirt read the words ‘Exercise? I thought you said Extra Fries!’ He recalled this colored shirt once being a simple movie quote. Likewise, his dress shirts were all larger but just not quite large enough. His briefs had all been replaced with large pairs of tighty whities, an article of clothing that had always made him cringe. Worst of all were his jeans. Completely gone and replaced with basic sweatpants or pajama pants featuring colorful pictures of donuts.

He settled for the gray pair of sweats. Of course with a fresh pair of tighty whities, not that he had much of a choice. 

Waddling to the mirror, and working his enlarged dress pants down at last to his ankles, Tom saw, upon lifting his gut, his cock had become buried treasure. He must have still been two-inches. But with his newly formed fupa, the obese man was nearly cockless. Rather than hanging off of his body, his dick was no better than a button hidden under his belly. He felt he could faint. When his stomach growled, he realized he was desperately hungry.

Once the feat of dressing himself was done, and more sweat worked itself under his folds, Tom went to heat up leftovers in the fridge. He checked his phone and to his horror, he discovered all the old pictures of him online had also changed. All his life events remained where they were. But replacing himself in every photo was a fattened version of himself.

He realized then his entire reality had been altered. 

Sweatpants and joke T-shirt, Tom waddled his wobbly rear back to the bar to confront Stella. “What do you mean she isn’t here today?”

“She can’t be here everyday, tubby,” the brutish man at the bar said. 

“Will she be here tomorrow,” he asked as he felt his fat gut rumble again. Damn it, he thought, he warmed up three leftovers planned for separate meals and he was still hungry.

“What? You one of her fans? She’ll be here tomorrow but why don’t you get some McDonald's, fatty. This place is too tough for you.”

Tom thought he could punch the man in the face. “Fuck you,” he said, sounding as if he was on the brink of tears. He waddled away in defeat. Afterwards, he went and got some McDonald’s. 

When the goth girl in the drive thru made a face of disgust upon seeing his sweaty form at the window, Tom felt a wave of arousal wash over him. He felt humiliated, he realized. Yet also turned on. He took the food quickly and scarfed it down on the way home as fast. He felt sad when he realized he still felt hungry on the steps to his home. He felt sadder still when the kids walking by giggled and murmured at the shape of his dopey shadow.

Sat at his computer, chewing on more snacks, letting the crumbs pile on his belly pressed into his desk, Tom could only look at more photos of his altered reality. He remembered being skinny all his life. But even his yearbook showed a sweaty, fat loser where his name was printed. 

Eventually he looked up Sam online. There she was, on social media. Her lovely red hair. That bright smile. Those beautiful eyes. That perky, pale chest. “Oh Gah..oh hnnNG!” He grabbed at his fleshy chest, once more put into a wheezing fit. “J-just from looking at her?” He went to change his underwear again.

Sunday morning and Tom was back in the drive thru, ordering even more than last time. A sporty girl at the window this time. But she too made the same face of: What the fuck are you doing with your life, fatty?

It wasn’t fair, Tom thought. He wasn’t fat. Not really. It was that bi- That cruel lady with the sexy ass at the bar. She did this to him. His obesity didn’t count. Still he felt humiliated. And again, aroused. When the tomboy at the window reluctantly handed over the last bag, her finger accidentally touched Tom’s. He came right there on the spot.

Thankfully, if there was anything to be thankful for, his belly covered the wet spot on his pants. His belly and sweatpants splashed with unseen spunk, he waddled back into the bar and this time found Stella there.

She recognized Tom under all his fat and gave a nasty smile, “How’s it going? You put on some weight?”

Tom felt he could glass her then. Instead he found himself sheepishly looking away, “Please,” he mumbled, “please turn me back…” “What’s that?” Stella spoke loudly. “You want to order a milkshake?” The patrons at the end of the bar laughed.

“I said please turn me back,” Tom whimpered, “I can’t…I…I can’t even control myself. I’m still small-”

“Subjective,” Stella said.

Tom ignored that and got to the point, “I blew my load three times. Against my will. It-it just happened,” he cried out through a whisper.

“You’re a premature ejaculator now, yeah,” she said, too loud for Tom’s comfort.

Tom gestured her to lower her voice, beggingly if a gesture could show it. “I don’t want to be. I did it right in front of the girl I liked and she called me…she called me disgusting.”

“Sweety, you look like you’re four hundred pounds on a good day. You should get used to being called that. Not to mention I can smell that stain in your pants.”

Tom blushed. “That stain is your fault,” he wanted to yell, but he more so mumbled it out timidly. Why was he so afraid to let out his anger? He didn’t know but he went on. “You said you would make me bigger but I’m still only two-inches. Less now with all this weight. Plus I can’t even look at pretty girls without cumming my pants.”

Stella stood back from the bar, “You wound me! Am I not a pretty girl?” She bent over to let her cleavage hang over the bar then, “You’re having fun being a horny boy at least, right?”

Tom knew, somewhere, underneath all the layers of doughy fat, he was sporting an erection. One that was ready to pop. He was quick to look away from Stella before he could go off again. Stella only laughed.

“Poor, horny boy. I did as you wanted and made you bigger. And as for the price I made those two-inches, hiding wherever they are on you, incredibly sensitive. I guess you’re double lucky with that deal.”

“Yeah, well, I hate it. What do I have to do to go back to normal?”

“This is your new normal, sweety. But I’m always willing to spice things up further. You said the girl called you disgusting? Well, how about we tweak reality again. You’ve gathered that I can do what I want with it, right?”

“Change…reality?”

“Yes. Just like you’ll need to change your pants everytime you accidentally brush against a woman’s tit.” Precum spilled from Tom. He was going to pop just from the dirty talk. A nasty thought asked as to why. Was he into this humiliation? Was his mind breaking apart?

“What did you have in mind?” Tom asked.

“I'll pour you another drink. The same as the first. Then your girl will find you attractive again.”

“As I am now?”

“As you are now.” “No. That’s…that’s fucked up. No girl should be into me…” his hidden cock twitched at that admission. Shit, he thought: I’m getting off on this abuse.

“The noble loser,” Stella said. “Fine. Have it your way. Just remember I’m here if you change your mind.” Frustrated with their exchange, Tom waddled for the door. “Oh, before you go.” Looking back he watched Stella flash a nipple. He must have made a face when he came because the bartender broke out into a cruel laughter.

Monday came, along with Tom in his dream involving Sam. He still yearned for her embrace but the thought did things to him downstairs. He tried to take control but thinking of her in the shower, feeling up his rolls as he washed them, only made him explode again.

The outfit he picked out was as sad as it was misfitting. The buttons on his dress shirt looked ready to pop at any second. Something in common with himself he was grim to think. Not to mention his pants would surely rip if he dropped a pen and reached down for it. Carefully he waddled to his car and went to get breakfast. He was fifteen minutes late when he got to work, and once more subjected to heavy breaths for air. Of all the things to not be early too, he thought.

When he saw Sam across the floor she was with her friends. Laughing. Looking as beautiful as ever. When she saw him staring she shot him an icy glare. Later he approached her at her desk with a cup of coffee, just as she had done for him the last two days at work.

“I-I got you a cup of coffee,” Tom stuttered.

Sam looked around to make sure nobody was eyeing them, “The fuck are you doing, Tommy? Didn’t I tell you to stay away from me?”

“I…y-you didn’t say that…”

“Fucking creep. Get that coffee away from me. Like I’d ever take coffee from you.” There were a few other staring at this point. Heartbroken yet hard, Tom waddled away.

Before noon he was in Jane’s office. “Sit down, Tommy.”

“It’s…” When did Tommy become his nickname? He didn’t question it though. Instead, Tommy struggled to fit into the chair in front of Jane’s desk. The look on Jane’s face was more sad than disgusted. 

“Samantha told me you’ve been sexually harrassing her.”

What!? “But I-”

“You’re not fired but these are heavy allegations.” Jane’s eyes popped open from what looked like a deep sleep. “Heavy as in…you understand,” she cleared her throat. “It is going on your record, however. As misbehavior in the workplace. You won’t be eligible for promotion or a raise for one year from the date of this incident. You’re also not allowed to speak directly to Samantha. You will come to me if for any reason you have information that needs to come her way. Additionally, we’ll be moving your seat on the floor.”

“To where?”

It wasn’t fair, Tommy thought. He wasn’t really fat. He wasn’t really a creep. None of this was fair. He sat at his new desk, tucked away in the further back corner of the floor. A small space away from where the other rows of cubicles actually began. All because Jane and Sam were friends, he thought. They couldn’t fire him so they did this instead. He felt tears in his eyes begin to form. His life had been ruined.

“You’re back,” Stella said, wiping down the bar as a fight between bikers erupted further inside. “Look at you. You’re a regular regular now.”

“I want the drink.”

“One milkshake coming up.”

“The other drink,” he didn’t admit he could go for a milkshake right about now.

“So. You want the girl to be into a sorry, fat loser like you?”

It felt so perfect when she was. Hell, he’d accept his fat, pre-ejuculating body as long as Sam was there to massage his gut and make him cum. For that, he would do anything for her. The sorry pig and the pretty princess. 

“Whatever the price,” Tommy said. 

“Are you sure?” Stella asked as one of the bikers was thrown into a table in the back. “You’re asking me to make a cute girl like her into fat slobs like you. Don’t you think that’s weirdly fucked up?”

“Whatever the price,” Tommy repeated.

Stella poured the drink as the victorious biker in the back offered the defeated one his hand. A crimson mist rose from the drink, “Bottom’s up.”

Tommy gulped it down without a second thought while Stella went to attend a newly arrived guest down the bar. A moment later Tommy’s phone buzzed.

His heart fluttered when he saw it was from Sam. He opened up the message and read it, already feeling his buried treasure stir.

Sam: Hey, Piggy! Going out for some drinks with some friends tonight. Venmo me $200 xoxo 

Tommy sighed. He sent over the money and filled the front of his pants.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

It Was Me

CW: Suicidal thoughts and depression.

Summary: Once/Sandman crossover - Regina contemplates ending her life. She decides to go out for one last walk on which she meets a young woman who asks her to show her around Storybrooke.

Regina runs her fingers through her hair. 

Yes, this should do just nicely. 

Today she wears a black dress–this isn’t particularly out of character. But today the dress is made of velvet and lace, something fit for a cocktail party. She thinks that she looks nice. One of the very last things that she has going for herself. 

She is a horrible person who has done horrible things. She has her talents and her intelligence but she has always used those things for cruel ends so she can’t say that they are positives. She is horrible through and through and her skills and smarts are evil too. But at least she looks nice. At least she has an elegant face. 

She picks up a stick of lipstick, deep brown in color. She colors her lips and presses them together. Indeed she looks pleasing as she ought. 

It might take the edge off of things when they find her. 

Not that anyone will be too distraught at the sight of her rigid, cooling body. Likely, they will be relieved. 

Perhaps even outright delighted.

She will be one less thing for them to worry about and a very significant fear to have put to rest. 

Put to rest six feet under in Storybrooke’s cemetery. And that is if they choose to be kind to her. They can just toss her body in some hole and be done with it.

But really, what does she care? She will be dead after all and the dead don’t get opinions. They have traded their opinions and their voices for the peace of eternal sleep. For that kind and tender oblivion. 

She has always had an affinity for darkness, so why not? 

Regina exhales. There is only one more thing left to do. She could write it in her note but she doesn’t want to do that to Henry, so she will tell him in person, one last time, that she loves him very much. And then she will ask Emma to tell them that her death was an accident. 

He doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t want to hurt him anymore than she already has. 

Regina swallows her tears back and puts on her jacket. She may as well enjoy one final autumn afternoon. She always loved the season. She likes seeing the carved pumpkins on people’s doors and the corn husks. She hates the tacky decorations but, in October, she can’t imagine the houses of Storybrooke without them. 

There is finality in the closing of that door. 

She knows that she won’t walk through it again. 

She hasn’t decided yet but she will either find herself a nice spot in the forest and watch the leaves spiral down around her as a killing curse takes over or she will lie down next to Daniel and the family crypt. 

She stuffs her hands into her pockets and makes her way down the sidewalk, ignoring the glares that she has grown so used to. 

It is colder than she had anticipated, but that is just as well. The world has always been cold to her and it might as well keep that going. She stares at the ground watching the cracks in the sidewalk as she passes them by. 

“Hey!”

Regina jolts, intent on telling the woman off for startling her so. But when Regina looks up she stops short; the woman has such a sweet, kind smile. “I’m new here and I was hoping someone could show me around.”

Regina clears her throat. “There are plenty of other people…”

“But who better to show me around then the mayor!” 

“Right. Yes. I suppose that that’s true enough.” Not that it changes that she doesn’t have time to be giving free tours. She could tell the woman that her unfamiliarity with the town is a personal problem. 

“Thank you so much!” That smile is so bright especially when juxtaposed with her style of dress. The woman is styled almost as grimly and bleakly as Regina herself. “You’ll show me all of the best places in town, right?” 

In spite of herself Regina nods. 

Maybe there’s still some part of her deep down that doesn’t want to die.

Maybe that is what has truly compelled her to go outside. 

Maybe she had been looking for something to deter her, something to change her mind. 

And so she takes the woman’s pale hand. She isn’t much of a hand holder but there is something about the woman–something compelling, something kind, something that she yearns for. 

“So what brings you to Storybrooke?”

The woman hums. “A job, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Well I might not actually have this particular job.” 

Regina furrows her brows. “Isn’t it rather short sighted to move to a town before actually finding out if you get this job.”

The woman laughs. “It doesn’t bother me. I go from place to place. It’s kind of fun sometimes. Hey, do you want to go for some ice cream?”

“Ice cream? In this weather?”

“Well yes. Have you ever had an ice cream cone during the autumn months?”

“That’s rather unseasonable wouldn’t you say?”

“Which is exactly what makes it special.” The woman shrugs. “It’s something new that you haven’t done before. There’s probably a lot of that. Things that you still haven’t tried.” She pulls Regina along. 

Regina’s breath catches. “There’s a lot that I won’t try.” And it isn’t because she is simply closed off to the idea of trying new things. In fact there are quite a few things that she would have loved to do. “I just don’t have the time.”

.oOo.

Death nods.

She knows that she shouldn’t try to Regina one way or the other. But the woman always had such a hard fate. She imagines that Regina wouldn’t take as kindly to Destiny as she does herself.  She certainly has great kinship with Despair. 

She should leave this well alone and let life unfold as it always does. If Regina seeks her company then she should let her have in just the same way that anyone else acquires it. Interference is always a risk be it into the affairs of her siblings or trifling with the humans themselves. 

It is still Regina’s choice at the end of the day. 

It is flimsy justification. 

But it works well enough. 

Probably her siblings, Dream in particular, will ask why. Why this woman? A woman with so much hate in her heart. A woman who she has become so familiar with just through the sheer amount of work that she has created for her. She has lost count of how many confused, distraught souls had mentioned having been sent by an Evil Queen.

And she wouldn’t have an answer. 

Perhaps Despair is right, perhaps there is something compelling about despair and misery. Something that draws people to it. Or it could be that so much tampering had been done with Regina’s own destiny that it only feels right to try to make it right.

Truthfully she thinks that the woman probably hates her all the same. Possibly more than anything else. If she can blame that child for taking her Daniel…

Death can only imagine how Regina would regard her if she knew the truth. She would probably ask, as everyone does, why she had taken her lover away. How she could be so cruel.

It is only a job. 

One that she likes to think is a job well done and a job that is entirely necessary. She would say to the woman, “would you rather have your departed lover wandering around lost between the worlds.” She would ask, “is that what you want for yourself?”

Regina tosses a look over her shoulder and Death realizes that she had been asked a question. One that isn’t a part of her internal dialogue. 

“What was that?” Death asks. 

“How are you so cheerful on such a dreary day?”

And Death flashes a grin. “Why shouldn’t I be?” 

“Because there is a lot of suffering in the world and most of it is in this town.” It is what she leaves unspoken that is the most dismal; most of it is in me.

“I’ve seen plenty of suffering. Perhaps more than anyone.” Death replies. “And I’ve seen so much kindness and care.” She has shown much kindness and care. And if this woman ultimately does choose to see her again, she will show her tenderness and compassion that she will probably find unfathomable.

.oOo.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She asks. 

“What is?” 

The woman gestures around. “All of this!” 

Regina supposes that it is. The forest is more alive, more vibrant than she could ever be. It is certainly more colorful even under gloomy autumn skies. The woman finishes her pumpkin spice ice cream cone and Regina finally takes a lick of her own. The taste is sharp and spicy but she can’t say that it is unpleasant. 

The woman claps. “Finally! What do you think?”

“It’s…well I’ve never tried pumpkin spice ice cream. I suppose that it is rather good.” 

The woman nods. “There’s lots of stuff like that out there.” 

And the breeze shakes a spray of leaves off of their branches. 

Strangely, Regina thinks that she will miss that feeling. The sensation of fall take its first nips at her skin. She might even miss the harsher bites of winter. Of course that is silly, the dead don’t miss things. 

She won’t miss Daniel anymore. 

If she is lucky she will be seeing him again soon.

She has never been a lucky person.

“What are you doing!?” Regina flinches away from the woman. 

“Your hat was coming off. One more breeze and it would have been…” she makes a waving gesture with her arm. “Woosh.” 

“Well next time just let it woosh! I do not like being touched.”

The woman laughs. “Right, personal space.”

Regina gives a firm nod.

“Will you walk down to the water with me? I like skipping stones.”

“I really ought to get going. I have to talk to my son…”

“Just one rock.” The woman persists. “I haven’t skipped rocks with anyone in quite some time. My siblings and I, we’re very busy people so when I get quiet moments like this…” She trails off. “Please, just one.”

Regina sighs. She supposes that just once couldn’t hurt. For old time’s sake. She used to love skipping rocks with Henry, seeing the wonder and awe in his eyes. It was as if she was doing real magic for him. 

She wonders if he would ever like to skip rocks with her again…

“Okay!” The woman claps her hands together. “Let’s see how many skips I can get.” 

Regina has to envy this woman whoever she is. She is so light, so carefree. She has such a warm smile. There has to be some story beneath it. Some tragedy that she has overcome. The happiest people always seem to have the worst stories. 

She would like to be that sort of person. 

The sort that has gone through so much and can still smile. 

“Your turn.” The woman sets a stone in her hand. “My rock skipped four times before sinking.”

Regina’s skips five.

“Looks like you know what you’re doing.”

Regina nods. “My son and I used to come here a lot.” 

“Well why don’t you take him here again? You said that you were going to talk to him.”

“Yes well…it’s complicated.” She frowns. Or is she making things complicated. She supposes that she can pick him up from school and ask him if he wants to try this strange new ice cream flavor that she has discovered. They could skip a few rocks and then…

And then the moment will pass it it will be time to put that killing curse into effect.

Who is she kidding, he wouldn’t take her up on the offer anyways and it is better if he doesn’t. It is better if he never talks to her again.

At any rate, she is already late. 

She swallows, and late by twenty minutes. 

Emma has probably already taken him home.

Emma is…

Emma is standing at the other end of the bridge. “There you are! What the hell!? Henry said that you didn’t come to pick him up today.”

Regina’s stomach churns. “I. I lost track of time.” She shakes her head. “I should be paying more attention.” It’s irresponsible. Stupid. She’d let a complete stranger deter her. “There was this woman, she said that she was lost, rather, she needed someone to show her around…”

Emma laughs, “and you were actually welcoming for once?”

Regina rolls her eyes. “She’s very persistent. Her name is…” come to think of it, she hadn’t bothered getting one.

And when she looks over her shoulder, the woman isn’t there. 

“Regina?” Emma asks. “What is it?”

“She’s…gone?” Regina furrows her brows.

“Who?”

“The woman. The woman who asked me to show her around.”

“Regina, are you…?” She pauses. “Are you okay? I know that this whole broken curse thing has been difficult.”

Well that’s one way of putting it. 

“I…” she trails off. “It’s nothing, Swan.” She is quiet for a very long while. She stands there with her hands in her pockets listening to the rain spatter upon the foliage. “Swan…Emma…” She swallows. “I…” And her lower lip trembles. She doesn’t want to cry in front of the woman. But she can’t help it. She is a broken woman, perhaps more so than she had intally thought–she wonders if the woman had ever actually been there at all. 

She needs help. and she needs help. Oh God, she needs help.

“Emma, please.” She doesn’t know what she is asking for. 

But she thinks that Emma does.

.oOo.

Death watches Emma take Regina into a very tight hug. She rocks the woman slightly, rubbing her back and murmuring something that Death cannot hear. Regina leans into Emma and sobs. She sobs for a very long time.

And Death does not see Regina for a very long time. 

The woman who stares at her now does so with partially blind eyes. Her mouth is decorated with creases and lines. Smile lines that contrast the bags under her eyes. There is a story on this aged face and each wrinkle tells one of those stories. It was a life hard lived but a life well lived.

The woman is unlike many of the people Death has come for. This woman greets her with a respectful nod and a readiness. Almost an eagerness. And Death cannot blame her, there are a lot of people of whom she yearns to see again. 

 With dawning understanding Regina takes her hand just as she had so long ago. 

“It’s you.” She says, her voice strained with age. “It was you.”

Death smiles. “It was me.”

[roguelov]

Thieves Will Steal Your Heart

Summary: A notorious thief, you set your eyes on the Egyptian Museum in London. It’ll be an easy job, in and out. However, someone puts a hitch in your plan: the sweet gift shop employee. You become enthralled with him, and he in turn. But, at the end of the day, you still have a job to do.

Word Count: ~5k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: Fluff

Note: Takes place before the events of Moon Knight, so Steven doesn’t know about Marc. And I might do a part 2 where the reader meets Marc, as Moon Knight

Ch. 2

High vaulted ceilings stretched into the heavens, stone architecture combined with a sleek modern flare, statues with faces of animals and bodies of humans loomed over the area guarding those who entered, glass cases arranging in various size protected the smallest most delicate handcrafted items, while paintings and scrolls centuries old covered the walls.

London’s Nation Art Gallery was impressive to say the least. It was part of the reason you picked this place. It had plenty to choose from, and each item enticed you - called out to you.

Which items would have the honor of being plucked from their confinements to have a home elsewhere?

After wandering around for an hour, a familiar feeling - a weight pressing into the back of your skull - made the hairs on your neck stand up. Someone was watching you. Which, honestly, shouldn’t be too surprising given the public space, and the roughly three dozen security cameras, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling.

Strolling to a nearby statue, you craned your neck up following the angular structure; all the while, you peered out of the corner of your eyes.

There.

The gift shop employee.

Steven couldn’t peel his eye off of you. You were breathtaking.

The minute you walked in, it was as if Ra moved the sun for you. The harsh somewhat blindly fluorescent lights were now instead a warm dim orange hue that bathed over you, the dust particles in the air now shimmered like gold specs. Your head was held high as you casually strolled - floated - through the main area. No one offered you a single glance your way, almost as if you were a god walking in silence among men. Yet, he saw you.

And you stole his breath.

Steven would try to look away, however it wouldn’t last long. His eyes would dart around the gallery, hoping to find a distraction or to not be so conspicuous, but they always made their way back to you. You who aimlessly walked around surveying everything. You who had a certain twinkle in your eyes. You who had a smile gently tug on the corner of your lips.

So, as you stared up at the massive statue of Anubis, Steven stared at you unwaveringly.

Then a tour group passed in front of you, blocking you from Steven’s view. The crowd of tourists pointed at relics, took pictures, while a small portion looked positively bored. The tour guide, however, kept up the cheery, far too sweet, persona as she pointed at the Anubis statue rattling off interesting facts. The group paused only for a single second, for one breath, before moving on.

By then, you were gone.

Steven frowned. He leaned over the counter looking around. How in the world? You vanished. Like a drop of sand into the desert never to be seen again.

He sighed.

You left. Probably for good. His chance to talk with you was gone. At least that was what he told himself, but he never thought of actually approaching you. Not when he was on shift and with Donna lurking about. He simply hoped he had the courage to if the improbable opportunity rose, but that all passed into oblivion.

“Hey, do you happen to have the time?”

Steven, a little dejected, numbly glanced down at his watch. “About a quarter pass 2.” Slowly, his eyes trailed up to the random voice. His eyes widened. It was you.

You smiled softly at him. You pulled out your phone showing him a black screen, “Thanks, I forgot to charge this last night and I couldn’t find a clock.”

“Right,” he nodded, unsure what exactly to say now that you were here - actually right here in front of him. “I’d probably forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

You laughed through your nose still smiling at him. He easily returned the smile as he chuckled lightly to himself.

You slowly eyed him. From the tips of his dark curls that pointed in odd directions, down to his warm kind eyes and the bags underneath them, to his full lips, down his neck and broad shoulder, to his muscular build - although you noted he hunched, shrinking himself around others - then to his obscure patterned button up and tan jacket, down to his slacks. He was handsome, and absolutely adorable. Was it even possible for a man to be both? Yes, and he was directly in front of you.

As your eyes trailed back up, you spotted a clip-on name tag. “Steven,” you read.

He perked up. “Y-yes?”

“Sorry, I was just reading your name tag.” You pointed to the small brass plate on his breast pocket.

He followed your fingers, touching the cool metal as if he forgot it was there. “Right.”

He looked back at you, and you easily held his gaze. He wanted to ask your name, the name of the person who stole his thoughts and time, the question weighed on his tongue. His lips parted slightly, the words formed in his mouth.

“Well, I better be off.” You started walking away.

Steven’s eyes widened. Off?

He scrambled and followed after you behind the counter of course. “Wait. Wait!”

You paused, turning to face him with the same easy, captivating, smile on your lips. He pinched himself into a corner up against the wall and the edge of the counter. “I, uh, um …”

What was he doing?

“Yes, Steven?”

A warmth spread over his chest as his name rolled off your tongue. “Um, right, well, I - uh - wanted to ask what your name may be?”

“My name?”

“Yes! I, uh” - he cleared his throat - “I mean, yes.”

Your smile grew. Strolling over to him, you leaned in towards him. He instinctively moved back a bit. About a foot separated you from him. This close you could count his eyelashes, you could also spot a golden chain peeking out from underneath his collar, and you could smell his cologne.

“I’ll tell you another time.”

He blinked. “Wait, what?”

You winked at him then walked straight through the exit.

You should have known better, hell you did. Never leave a trace, never make an impression, and yet you couldn’t help it. Your typical surveillance to complete a job was two trips: one, to get a lay of the land and understand the security system, and two, pick your items and plan a route accordingly. Then a week later, you’d sneak in the middle of the night. Items taken under your slippery fingers, never to be seen again. Most cameras only ever caught a shadow or a blur. And if you happened to mess up, you always double checked the security cameras wiping any identifiable trace.

Calculated. Precise. In and out.

Never linger.

But, the gift shop keeper captured your being. He picked you out in a crowd, a task impossible to nearly everyone. He saw you. Continuously saw you. No matter if you slipped away, he still managed to find you a minute later.

He was a curious one. A timid man with a kind heart. His intellect on Egyptian culture and mythology was impressive to say the least. He always smiled as he told stories to curious children from behind his counter. He managed to soothe any person who approached him, any worries or tension melted in his presence.

You were no different. Your guard lowered around him. You wanted to know everything about him and how he ticked.

After your third visit, you should have given up on the job. But, you told yourself that the security was top notch and you had to ensure everything would run smoothly. It wasn’t solely for the soft spoken gift shop keeper.

After the fourth, you told yourself that you were rethinking certain items. The ones you initially picked were far too big, or ambitious, so you needed to go smaller. Small, multiple times that could sell fast on the black market.

After the seventh visit, you had no more excuses. You knew you were infatuated with Steven.

Every visit, you talked with him for hours on end. He excitedly retold Egyptian stories, as you leaned on the counter enthralled with his tales. He talked about a specific French poet, and even repeated some of her work. You didn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but your heart fluttered nonetheless. He talked about his one finned goldfish named Gus, he talked, and talked, and -

“Why does it seem like I am the one always talking?” Steven asked one day during a slow period.

Weeks of popping up nearly every other day, he never questioned it until now. You shrugged playing it off, “Maybe because I like the sound of your voice.”

He blushed a bit. “Well, it seems I don’t know much about you. I still don’t even know your name, which is a bit odd, innit?”

“What?” You smirked, a devious one to hide the truth of it all. “Want to moan the right name at night?”

His eyes turned into saucers, the tip of his ears became a rich scarlet red as he began stuttering. “I - I, no, no. I just, I, oh my -“

You chuckled, “I’m sorry, I’m just teasing you. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He avoided eye contact and busied himself by tidying up the bin filled with sarcophagus keychains near the register. “It’s alright,” he muttered.

You shouldn’t have liked how bashful he got, or how utterly adorable he was. But, you did. Wholeheartedly. How did this random man manage to capture your undivided attention for days - weeks?

You really shouldn’t even be here.

The only thing reminding you of the job you set out was the fact Steven didn’t have your name. It was the one thing not tethering you to him. Because you knew the second you told him, you would want to stay. But, you were never one to settle down. Let alone, be able to have a normal life. You were a ghost, figuratively and literally. Your identity was wiped from databases all over the world.

Steven deserved more than a ghost to haunt his life.

“Maybe I want to keep up my mysterious aura,” you smiled, despite the depressing thought.

Steven puckered his lips unsure what to think or say.

“Or you know, you could always guess my name,” you suggested. “It could be a fun little game.”

A ghost who’s name was forgotten to all. And should stay that way.

He sighed, beginning to be fed up with it all. “I don’t want to guess it, I want to know it.” He looked over at you with sad, droopy eyes. Eyes that pierced through your heart. “I just don’t understand why you don’t tell me.”

You licked your lips and tried to play it off. “Maybe I’m not even real, just a figment of your imagination. Oooooo,” you wiggled your fingers.

“Oh, don’t say that,” he mumbled. “Please, don’t say that.”

“Sorry,” you quickly stumbled out. You should have known better. Poor Steven had confided in you about his sleepwalking and lapses in memory. You wanted to smack your forehead against the counter.

How could I be so stupid?

He sighed and rearranged other items in bins. “Is there something you can't tell me, love? I hope I’m not the reason or -“

Love.

Your ears perked up at the word, the small slip of his unconscious mind. Your heart instantly latched onto it. The word tossed around your head replaying it over and over. It was one of the sweetest melodies you ever heard.

How could this man render you in such a state?

“- sorry, I’m rambling a bit, aren’t I?” You snapped back to reality. Steven locked eyes with you, he saw the wide eyed expression steeled itself into a neutral look. “Oh, what is it?”

“Nothing, nothing, sorry, I, uh … it’s nothing.”

“You sure?”

“… yeah.” You shifted your weight side to side.

“You don’t sound sure.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I am. I, uh, just remembered I have somewhere to be.”

This is too much, I can’t stay here any longer.

You spun on your heel and practically sprinted off.

“Hey! Wait, I …,” Steven sighed as you ran off.

Disheartened, he idly moved around other items. His mind raced with possible reasons about you and your odd behavior, none of which were particularly good. Lots of horrible thoughts which he had to push back. “It’s nothing, it’s … ugh,” he ran his fingers through his hair.

It couldn’t be him, right? Why did you evade everything about you, starting with a basic name ending with your past? You told him stories, but something always rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe because the stories were overarching with no real details, maybe because some were light quick stories from your childhood from years ago and nothing so recent. What was it?

“Oi, Stevie, where’d your little friend go?”

Steven didn’t have the energy to correct Donna. “Off, don’t know where.”

Donna nodded, smacking the gum between her teeth. “Good, can’t have you slacking off more than you already do.”

Steven said nothing. He turned around, straightening the plush replicas of gods and goddesses to the beetles and miniature pyramids.

“They sure do come around a lot,” Donna continued.

In all honesty, she wanted to gossip. And Steven, who was an enigma already, now had a shadow that popped up every now and then. Every employee in the museum was curious.

“Yeah,” Steven mumbled, not truly paying attention to his boss.

“So, they got a name?”

He flinched. Swallowing, he softly replied, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Donna blinked. “How the bloody hell do you not know their name? The two of you have been chattin’ almost every other day for weeks.”

“I know, I know,” he gritted his teeth.

“Maybe you just forgot it.”

“No,” he vehemently shook his head, “I wouldn’t have.”

“Like bloody hell you wouldn’t, you forget your own head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

His lips thinned.

“Maybe they’re a ghost.” She snorted, “A haunted museum? Should probably charge more.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” he frowned.

Donna cocked a brow at the sullen man. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Of course, they’re real. I’ve seen them, we all have.” She paused then tilted her head in a sudden realization. “Although I don’t think I ever saw their face. Always their back, huh, how odd. Never thought about it till now.”

Steven sighed, placing his head in his hands as he hunched over the counter. “This is bloody ridiculous, all of it.”

“Sure is.” The familiar chirp of a crowd resonated in the bare establishment. “Alright, figure out your love life on your own time.”

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

A sinking feeling filled the pit of Steven’s stomach. Would you return? Did you leave for good? Did he scare you off? Where did you go? Would you really leave without a proper goodbye?

He huffed. He wanted to tear his hair out, but a kid - a girl no older than eight years old - popped in front of his counter excitedly pointing at the stuffed scarab beetle. Steven smiled down at the girl. He grabbed the beetle for her, and before he could tell her the price, she slammed down a wad of cash. He chuckled and picked them up counting it all out. Putting it into the register, he returned some change and a receipt. The girl hardly cared. She smothered the beetle to her chest and hastily grabbed the change before darting over to her parents.

“So, how much for the hippo?”

Steven spun around looking at the collection of plush hippos in ceremonial garb, aka the goddess Taweret. “Oh, that’ll be -“ twisting back around the air was knocked out of his lungs “- you.”

You gestured to yourself, “Me.”

“You’re here,” he said in utter shock.

“Yeah, I am, but I can go if -“

“No! No, uh,” he cleared his throat, “uh, hi.”

You smiled softly, “Hey there, Steven.”

“Hi,” he repeated.

You chuckled under your breath.

He licked his lips. He didn’t think he would ever see you again, let alone hear your laugh. “So, uh, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, this and that.” You joked.

He nodded. How else was he supposed to respond?

Seeing the blank look in his eyes, you sighed. There was a tonal change as you leaned your forearms against the counter. “I was making preparations.”

“Preparations?”

“Yeah,” you fiddled with your hands, “I travel … a lot. And I have a trip coming up soon so I had to do a few things.”

“Travel? Well, isn’t that lovely,” he smiled brightly. He completely overlooked your entire sentence, only focusing on your first four words. “Sure wish I could. Being stuck behind a counter all day isn’t so exciting.”

You returned the smile. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“So, where have you been?”

I’m leaving.

“All over the world.”

His eyes widened. “Really? Oh, that’s insane. Have you been to Egypt?”

You nodded happy to indulge him. “Couple of times.”

“Oh, wow,” he breathed out. “I wish one day I could go, I really want to see the pyramids.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” He gushed.

“Maybe I‘ll take you there one day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

But, what if I want to?

“Maybe I don’t, but if I could make your wish come true seems like a good cause.”

He dropped his head, his cheeks tinted a rosy hue. “You really don’t have to do that, love.”

Your knees weakened at that simple word.

“(Y/N).”

“Huh?” His head snapped up.

Your eyes connected with those gorgeous brown ones. A shade of the ground under your feet guiding you home, a shade that breathed new life, a shade that enveloped you in a warmth not felt before.

Your throat dried up. Swallowing down your nerves, you said, “That’s my name.”

His eyes widened.

Before he could say anything, you spilled out, “I’m leaving.”

A whirlwind of emotions violently stirred inside Steven. First your name, your honey sweet name he was ready to say, a name that filled his heart to the brim with joy; then those two words, those two words that slowly drained out all the joy.

“What?”

“I’m leaving,” you repeated. “I wasn't even supposed to stay this long, but I just couldn’t help it.”

You were the reason.

“Wait, hold on, you … you’re leaving? Like for good?”

“I wouldn’t say for good.”

“But you are leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s for my job. Hence, why I travel so much.”

“Oh.” His shoulders dropped. He licked his lips trying to find any words, but all he found was a growing emptiness. You were leaving. Gone. Gone from his life. Pushing aside his own feelings, he smiled at you. “Well, I hope you have fun, love. Maybe you can send me a postcard so I can stick on Gus’s tank -“

“Steven.” Don’t end it like this.

But, he wasn’t ready to hear it. He didn’t want to say goodbye. “Gus would probably like it, he can finally see the world too. Can’t really get anywhere with just one fin, ya know?”

“Steven.”

“Yeah, I bet he’d like that a lot. I mean so would I but -“

You grabbed the lapels of his jacket pulling him in. His words stuttered then fell off, now completely silent. But, you couldn’t do it. You hesitated. I shouldn’t be doing this. Your nose skimmed against his. Your eyes quickly glanced downward. They’re right there. Just do it.

Steven’s mind spiraled out of control. Your breath fanned on his lips. He parted them, almost readying himself. His eyes darted down. If he could just -

What am I doing?

Inhaling deeply, you exhaled, slowly and shakily, as you began to back away, “Sorry, I don’t know -“

“(Y/N)?”

Your heart threatened to leap out of your chest. Your name on his lips was sweeter and more heavenly than imaginable. “Y-yeah?”

His eyes locked with yours. Oh my. He looked at you as his salvation. He could drop to his knees and become a devout worshipper. And yet, you knew the truth. You were the devil in disguise; a temptation beckoning him to fall to depravity.

He dove. Falling with an elegant grace.

His lips crashed against yours.

Gentle, heart pounding, all consuming.

You closed your eyes. You white knuckled his jacket yanking him closer. He hummed. It was a sound you wanted to hear again and again. His hands hesitantly cupped your cheeks. Still unable to believe this was happening, that this was real. His hands were surprisingly calloused, the exciting roughness sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head then -

“Eh hem.”

Someone cleared their throat.

In a flash, you pulled away from Steven. You whipped around, turning your back to the person.

Steven blinked in a drunken haze. Did that really happen? His lips tingled, the feeling of your soft lips still lingered. Wait. Snapping to the present, he slowly turned to the person. It was Donna. He smiled sheepishly at her.

She raised an eyebrow. Her eyes jumped between Steven, with his wrinkled shirt and the love struck look in his eyes, then over to you, with your back to her refusing to make eye contact. She glanced back over at Steven with a blank stare. “Do get back to work, Stevie. Snog on your own time and not at work with guests around.”

“R-right, sorry, I -“

Donna raised her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Just don’t do it again.”

“Right, of course.”

The clack of her heels faded as she walked off.

You slowly looked back over at Steven. He instantly caught your eye. You rolled your lips trying to hide the growing smile. Steven was luckily the first to crack. He laughed. Loudly. Shaking his head, he brushed back his hair, “Oh, wow, that’s definitely a first.”

You snickered. “What an honor. And here I thought you kissed all your customers.”

Still laughing, he threw you a lopsided smile. “Only the special ones, love.”

Your cheeks warmed as you dropped your head. This dorky many made you, a hardened criminal, feel like a dopey love struck teenager. Shaking your head, you looked back up at him. “You sure are something, Steven.”

He tilted his head, his curled bounced against his forehead. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a great thing.”

He beamed at you.

Your smile shifted to one of sorrow. “I have to go now.”

His smile faltered.

You quickly leaned over and pecked his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Steven.”

“Yeah,” he whispered in minor defeat. “Until next time, (Y/N).”

You turned and began walking away with the prospect of possibly returning hanging in the air. He watched as you strolled off, slightly heartbroken but hopeful. You paused. Looking over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Steven. He awkwardly waved at you, and before he could stop himself, he shouted, “Laters gators.”

You chuckled, beaming at him as you waved goodbye then walked outside.

Yeah, I’ll definitely be back.

A few days passed without any real excitement for Steven. He thought of you almost every hour, which wasn’t good for him. He ached to see you. But, who knows how long it’ll be until he may see you again? You never specified how long this trip may be.

Steven hopped off the bus. Another day, another shift. He took a few steps only to stop in place. Police surrounded the museum, blocking anyone from entering. A miniature blockade, or more accurately a couple of metal fences hugged the stairs as a few police officers stood on guard duty. A few people stopped staring in awe. What had happened? While, one officer continuously denied a news van any information on the situation.

Oh, what was he about to get himself into?

He shuffled up to the nearest officer. “Um, pardon me?”

The police officer, a fresh faced woman, turned around. “Sorry, the museum is closed for the day.”

“Oh, no, I, uh, I work here. I work in the gift shop. Steven Grant? If that rings any bells.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, um, excuse me for a minute?”

She spun around speaking into her radio. After a few hushed words passed, she spun back around. She moved aside one of the fences, giving Steven just enough room to pass through. “Please, head up the stairs. Your boss is talking with Detective Douglas, he has a few questions for you.”

“Right.”

Steven hastily walked up the steps. What exactly happened? It probably isn’t so bad, right? Stepping through the doors, those thoughts were crushed. Police were scattered all about, nearly every corner of the museum as they combed every inch looking for clues. JD and three other officers watched video footage intensely.

Steven’s heart spiked out of fear.

“Oi, Stevie! Over here!”

His head snapped over to Donna standing in the corner with a somewhat intimidating man. Quickly, he scrambled over to them. His hands tightened around the straps of his satchel.

Standing in front of the odd pair, he nodded a ‘hello’. His eyes still actively watched all the officers talking and walking around. So many.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at them.

“We were robbed, Stevie.”

“Steven, it’s Steven,” he muttered under his breath. However, her words replayed in his head. Robbed? “Wait, robbed? Like actually robbed?”

“Yes.” Donna rolled her eyes.

“But, it was just from the gift shop, right?”

Who would steal genuine artifacts? How could they? That’s impossible.

Donna and the detective shook their head.

“No, or at least far as we know. We can’t rule it out yet but we know for a fact multiple artifacts have been stolen. From a handful of miniature statues, many hand carved jewelry, to a few scrolls with hieroglyphics.”

“Oh my god.” Steven breathed out.

Douglas nodded. “Yes, which is why for the sake of ruling out every employees I need to ask you a few questions for the moment.”

“Yes, yes of course.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Can you give me a run down of what you did yesterday?”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t much. I got up, came here for my shift, then went home.”

He nodded jotting it all down in a notepad.

“Did you see anyone suspicious yesterday at the museum or a few days prior?”

“No, sir.”

“Okay, and you said you went home last night, did you go anywhere else or do anything?”

“Uh, no, after work I watched a few shows, read for a bit, then went to bed.”

“Can anyone confirm this?”

“My goldfish, Gus?” He chuckled, only to see the deadpan expressions on the detective and his boss. He cleared his throat, “No, sir, but I do tend to sleepwalk so I have a few precautions so that doesn’t happen.”

“And?” Douglas cocked a brow at him.

“One of which is an ankle restraint,” he confessed meekly. “But I swear on my mum’s life I haven’t gone anywhere. Nothing was set off and I woke up in my bed as I should.”

The detective nodded, almost begrudgingly. Having no leads was slowly getting to him.

Donna spoke up, “Trust me I don’t think this bloke is capable of doing this.”

Steven didn’t know if he should be thankful or offended.

Douglas huffed, “Alright, if you can attest to his character it works for now.”

Now?

“Uh, I don’t know if it’ll help, but the inventory for the gift shop? Was that looked over yet?” Steven asked. He wanted to be helpful, he wanted to solve this odd mystery too.

“No, not yet.” Douglas answered.

Donna ushered Steven off, “Well, don’t dilly dally go and get it.”

Steven nodded and darted off.

Passing by officers, muttering ‘excuse me’s, he finally reached the storage room, behind the counter, where inventory and records were kept. In his haste, he forgot to ask Donna for the keys, but he still turned the knob to find it was unlocked. It was always locked. Brushing it off, he chalked it up to Donna and the police.

They probably did a quick look for clues.

Stepping inside, he flipped on the lights. Boxes and boxes filled with trinkets and toys were stacked precariously off to the left, a single table sat in the middle of the room, and filing cabinets off to the right. He walked over and pulled open a drawer.

But, something caught his eye. Not inside the drawer, but on top of the cabinet. At eye level, a plush replica of the goddess Taweret sat on top. His brows knitted together.

Why was that here?

Picking it up, a piece of folded paper flipped through the air and skidded across the ground. He blinked. He set the plushie on the table and carefully picked up the piece of paper. He brought it up to the light, twisting it and trying to spot anything odd. But, he didn’t. All he saw was scribbles, writing on the inside. Looking over his shoulder, no one came in. The hustling of police officers and their stampede of footwork resonated throughout the museum.

His heart feverishly pounded in his chest. He unfolded it once, then twice. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he turned the paper over.

Steven,

I still owe you a trip to Egypt.

Laters gators

There was no signature. But, he knew exactly who it was from: you. He let out a shaky breath. What - how … what does -

It clicked.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

You did this, you robbed the museum.

He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. He read and reread the small simple note a dozen times. Nothing obvious pointed to you, which he supposed was the point. If anyone else found it, they would think it was a simple note, a promise. But, to him? To Steven, it was a confession.

It all made sense.

Of course, you didn’t talk about yourself. Of course, you never gave him details. Of course, of course, of course.

Part of him knew he should be mad and upset. He should feel betrayed, hurt, or something but he wasn’t. He wasn’t being used. You never asked about the museum itself, you always asked questions about him, about his life. Yes, there was also the morale of it all: stealing and such. A twinge of disappointment did sing in his heart.

Then the bigger issue rose. Was he now an accomplice?

Even if he showed the police, even if he gave a detailed description of your face, and told them your name, he knew deep in his bones they would never find you. You were a ghost anyway.

Staring down at the note, he smiled.

“Laters gators,” he replied to an empty room.

Tucking the note away, he grabbed the inventory list and walked off.

He would see you again. Maybe not next week, maybe not in a month, but he knew you would come back into his life with that charming smile.

[dc418writes]

|•Still Over It (Not)•|

✨Pairing✨: Ransom DrysdalexBlack Reader, Special GuestxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: Dropping your daughter off with her father always seems to come with drama

⚠️: angst, mention of divorce, mention of cheating, Ransom being usual Ransom, probably considered a toxic relationship (definitely don’t recommend, know you worth kings and queens), little bit of fluff, mention of death, likkle bit of adult fun times

A/N🎙: So when I first got the idea for this, I had just listened to Summer Walker’s new album and of course was put in an angsty mood, and I just hope you guys like it! (Now, will it end in fluff👀…? We’ll see. You guys know I’m soft lol) Also for those of you who saw a couple of my posts get re-uploaded by me a couple of times, for whatever reason those stories weren’t showing up in the tags and I was trying to fix it on my own. What I did didn’t work, but I did reach out to tumblr and they fixed it so hopefully it continues to work! Apologies though for the multiple posts😓

“Kaia, be careful! Watch out for that step.”

Giggles briefly stopping, she heeds your warning taking the three steps one at a time and making sure both her feet meet before moving on. “C’mon momma, daddy’s waiting!,” she smiles excitedly pointing at the seemingly see-through home from the lack of curtains or blinds on any of the windows.

At least one of you were excited to be here.

“Well I could move faster if someone would’ve grabbed her own bag,” you jokingly narrow your eyes making the six-year-old giggle some more as you placed her monogrammed, Gucci backpack on her shoulders. Reaching up to hold your hand, you two continue your journey along the concrete walkway until meeting the doorbell next to the front door, which Kaia couldn’t wait to push bouncing on the balls of her rainboot covered feet.

It doesn’t take long for her father to appear behind the glass brightly smiling at his baby girl who jumps up and down smiling just as big.

“How’s my KK, huh?,” Ransom grins easily picking up the little girl to rest on his hip after kissing her cheek. Taking in your high waisted, black mini skirt and milky white shirt under your black and grey blazer, his cyan eyes never leave your brown ones as his lips twitch into a smirk. “And where does momma think she’s going hm?”

“She has a-,”

“Kaia go put your bag in your room, and take off your boots and coat.”

She mumbles a quick okay, wiggling out her father’s strong arms.

“Hey, bring down that picture we did the other day so you can show mom,” he whispers returning her excited smile before hurrying upstairs.

“Here are her clothes and everything else she’ll need for the week. Yes I triple checked everything’s there,” you quickly state holding out her matching Gucci duffel bag—courtesy of her father of course. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as he simply looks up and down your frame again. A quick, deep sigh slips past his lips as he takes her bag draping it over his broad shoulder. You can’t ignore the familiar tingle from his fingertips touching yours, but you dare not show him how it affects you.

“You can come in you know,” he states stepping to the side and opening the door even wider for you to enter. Your stubbornness orders your feet to stay planted where they are, but the familiar call of the once comfortable home, along with the remnants of his cologne wafting through your nostrils, is a bit stronger.

He never did spray a lot, but somehow the scent lingered long after he’d leave the room. Plus it didn’t help Ransom could hardly sit still.

One of the few traits he passed onto Kaia, even though he claimed not to know where she got her energy from.

“So, who’s the lucky guy? That barista from the cafe you swore didn’t have a crush on you?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you counter stood in the middle of the spacious living room with arms crossed over your chest.

“It is seeing it potentially concerns my daughter, and her being around some random guy.”

“Oh now that’s a concern for you? That’s funny seeing how you had our daughter in a car and being looked after by a total stranger.”

In your complete seven year relationship, Ransom had pissed you off more than enough times. But that day, knocking on your ex’s door to find a random brunette smiling in your face holding Kaia instead of him, you never felt more furious. He came back to find you lividly waiting on the couch with her bags packed and his “friend” long gone.

Similar to his reaction that day—well until you told him that Kaia’s month long stay would be cut short—he smugly grinned to himself crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Like I told you many times sweetheart, she was my assistant.”

“Since when do assistants stay the night and cook breakfast for their boss Ransom?”

You always knew Kaia’s love of talking would come in handy.

Before either of you could continue what was sure to be another argument, little pats flowing down the stairs have both of you donning small smiles for the sake of the excited little girl holding a wide sheet of construction paper.

“Okay, this is you momma andd this is me and daddy!,” she explains pointing respectively at the slightly disfigured drawings. “And we’re at the beach with a giant sandcastle house.”

“I did the windows,” Ransom adds as if trying to charm his way back to your good side. Your brief glare shows it would take decades, if not longer, for that to happen.

“It looks great buggie, I love it!,” you state squatting to her level. “Now, be good and call if you need anything. Doesn’t matter the time okay?”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too,” you state giving her one final hug before kissing her warm cheek then moving to her forehead.

You stand to your feet nearly bumping into Ransom’s chest from him inching closer to the both of you. His innocent smile has you rolling your eyes as you turn to go back to your car. The heels of your leather booties tapping the entire way.

“What? No goodnight kiss for me?,” he asks leaning against the wooden doorframe.

“Bedtime is nine. No later,” you call over your shoulder just before entering your car. Taillights eventually disappearing down the road.

———

It’s the second set of steps you’ve had to climb tonight, but these bring more excitement than the first. You don’t even have a chance to ring the doorbell, or knock, before the light grey door opens revealing soft, blue eyes and that warm smile that always caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

“Sorry I’m late. There was an accident so traffic was backed up a bit.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you made it.” The gentle caress of his hand against your neck sends a slight shiver down your spine from the chilled temperature of his palm.

“Sorry, I just pulled the wine bottle out the fridge when you pulled in.”

“It’s okay,” you softly giggle playfully bumping your nose against his. You eagerly follow his pull bringing you towards his waiting lips as he manages to lock the front door behind you with his other hand before it finds your hip. Pressed against the door, neither of you can get enough of each other from your mouths seemingly being in competition of who could outdo the other. Your arms wrap around his neck while he brings your body closer; kneading the burning flesh of your lower cheek making a moan fall between you.

His slightly furrowed brows as you pull back causes you to grin, pecking his swollen lips once more. “Trust me Andy I don’t want to stop either, but I think something’s done in there.”

So entranced, he didn’t hear the alarm chiming on his phone in the kitchen signaling he needed to take the bread out of the oven. Or smell the light char progressively forming. Luckily it wasn’t too bad as he hurried to carefully pull the baking sheet covered in buttered baguette slices from the oven.

“Everything looks so good!,” you smile uncovering the pan containing the bubbling marinara mixed with vegetables and penne noodles.

“Thanks. It’s honestly one of the few things I know how to make so hopefully it tastes as good,” he chuckles handing you a filled bowl before following behind to pull out your barstool.

“Andy I know my way around your place. You don’t have to do everything for me.”

“I know you do, but I don’t want you lifting a finger,” he winks pouring you a glass of wine.

“You may not want it, but I’m helping clean up.”

“Do you really want our first fight to be about dishes sweetheart?,” he smirks over his shoulder, pausing from making his own bowl.

“No, and there won’t be a fight. Trust me,” you wink back taking a sip of your Merlot.

“So stubborn. What am I gonna do with you huh?”

“Let me have my way and be happy,” you grin sweetly pecking the corner of his chuckling mouth.

As always, conversation flowed easily between you two over the savory meal. You discussed how your respective classes were going so far this semester, before venturing to more personal topics. Andy asked about Kaia and her new ballet class remembering how nervous you were if she’d actually like it.

“And how was everything tonight? With Ransom,” he carefully asked just before drinking from his half filled glass. You hadn’t even started dating yet, still just colleagues, when Andy happened to pass by your office hearing your cries that afternoon. He didn’t want to anger you by prying, but he couldn’t just walk away. His soft knocks startled you into action, hurriedly grabbing a couple tissues from the box beside you trying to clean your face the best you could before letting him in. Although you insisted it was just your allergies to the dust and whatever else was lying around the old office when he questioned you, the words spoken by his gentle voice left a lasting impression that ultimately led to this very moment.

“Keeping things hidden can only last so long until what’s hidden forces it’s way out. Trust me when I say that Y/N.”

As you talked more and became closer, you confided in Andy about your divorce. How Ransom disrespected you and your relationship over and over all those years ago, yet still insisted he wanted you. How although you wanted nothing to do with him, you felt guilty separating Kaia from one of her best friends.

He understood some of your feelings having gone through a divorce himself, and soon became your listening ear and shoulder to cry on those nights you felt like you failed not only yourself, but your daughter as well.

“It was…relatively smooth. He didn’t try getting me to stay like he typically does.”

“But let me guess, he wasn’t thrilled about you going on a date.”

“Mm, he doesn’t exactly know I’m on a date. He had an idea seeing how I’m dressed, but when he tried to pry I told him it was none of his business. You can imagine the reaction from that answer though.”

“At least the drop offs are getting easier,” Andy smiles gently squeezing your thigh. He understood how you weren’t ready to tell Ransom about your new relationship, slightly nervous of how he’d react. But he still wished everything would come out already so neither of you had to hide anymore. He loved the private dates within your respective homes that led to cuddles or your bodies tangled together until the next morning, but he also wanted to take you to a nice restaurant. Maybe even the park without being afraid of word getting back to your ex.

“How are you feeling? I-I know the accident happened around this time.”

“Yea,” he sighs picking at the lone noodle left in his bowl. “I’m uh..I’m alright.”

Your soft hand caressing his cheek, thumb grazing back and forth against his warm skin, brings his attention back to you and your small smile.

“How are you really Andy?” For a former DA and highly esteemed lawyer, even he couldn’t fool intuition.

“It’s…tough. The pain isn’t nearly as strong as it used to be, but it’s still there. Then when I leave messages telling Laurie how I’m going to his grave if she wants to come, sorta reaching that cordial hand out, she acts like she doesn’t care. Saying maybe I shouldn’t go so often.”

Since his passing, Andy made it a point to visit Jake three times a year; his birthday, the day of the accident, and during the holidays. Sometimes he’d visit more in those times he just needed to get away from everything.

Was it a lot? Maybe to some, but that was his son who he had the right to visit however often he saw fit.

“Well, if she doesn’t want to go she doesn’t have to, and if you want to see him all those times during the year then keep going. Especially if it helps and makes you happy,” you softly smile as he leans into your touch.

“And if you don’t want to go alone, I’m here.”

God, if you only knew how badly he wanted to say he loved you. Only being together six months though, he was sure you’d run away. Even Andy himself felt foolish falling so hard so fast, but he couldn’t deny how you fully had his heart, his soul, his entire being.

At first, he thought only Laurie would hold that position, but life had it’s way of showing him different.

The hairs of his beard tickle your palm as he carefully kisses the center before bringing you closer to show the same attention to your lips. For now, it was the closest he could get to saying those three words without actually speaking them.

Trying to clean up after dinner was more of a challenge than it should’ve been with Andy’s mouth stuck to that special spot where your neck met your shoulder making you giggle and purr the way he liked. “You’re being distracting,” you stated biting your lip to hide your smile.

“You insisted on cleaning sweetheart,” he grinned against your skin.

“And instead of resting, like any other person would, you decide to do this.”

“Mhm, it’s more fun.”

That’s how you found yourselves in Andy’s room. Your bare bodies pressed together under his warm sheets moaning the other’s name, and falling asleep shortly after your respective euphorias wrapped in his strong arms.

This restful sleep didn’t last long though, with the loud vibrations of your phone on top of the wooden nightstand cutting through the quiet of the dark house.

Seeing Ransom’s name illuminated on the screen has you moving too quick for your still foggy mind giving you a slight headache as you sat against the headboard.

“Hey what’s wrong?” At your concerned tone Andy’s now more alert, rubbing gentle circles on your back as he tilts his head to look up at you.

“Kaia won’t go to sleep,” he sighs in frustration.

“Ransom it’s after midnight, why is she just now going to bed?”

“She went to bed at her bedtime, but she woke up an hour ago screaming about a nightmare. I tried everything I could, but she keeps asking for you.”

“Alright, let me talk to her.” There’s a few moments of rustling before you hear the little sniffles and hiccups as her little hands hold onto her father’s while he holds the phone to her ear.

“Mommy?”

“Hi buggie,” you smile, hoping through your voice she can hear everything’s okay. “Daddy said you had a bad dream.”

“Mhmm. Y-You l-left me in the store,” she explains. Tiny voice wobbling as fresh tears hit her cheek.

You hadn’t told Andy about this, but Kaia was another reason you were a bit fearful in this new relationship. She’d had you there all her life, and as her mother you always would be, but you were worried she’d view Andy as the guy taking her mom away versus a possible addition to their family.

And if she were any bit of jealous like her father, that was a strong possibility.

“Aww I’m sorry. You know mama would never do that right? I love you so much, and I’ll always be there.”

“Yes.”

“Good, now go back to sleep okay? I know daddy has fun stuff planned for you tomorrow, so you need all your rest.”

“Are you coming back?”

“What, to go with you guys? No honey, it’s daddy daughter week-,”

“Noo, back here! I can’t sleep without you.”

“Um…well it’s pretty late Kaia. What if I meet you both for lunch tomorrow while you’re out?”

“But…but I want you here now momma,” she cries only further breaking your heart.

“A-Alright, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Go ahead and lie down though, try to relax.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too buggie,” you smile as your ex husband’s hushed voice returns to the phone.

“Thanks Y/N. It is late though, and you shouldn’t be out on the road by yourself. I’ll get you an Uber-,”

“No! No, that’s okay I’ll be fine. See you in a few.”

“Alright, see you then.”

“Everything okay?,” Andy asks mid yawn, as you hang up your phone tossing it on the comforter in front of you.

“Yea, Kaia just had a bad dream and can’t go back to sleep without me there so I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay I understand. I’d do the same thing if it was Jake,” he smiles sitting up to sweetly peck your cheek. “It’s late, need me to drive you?”

“No it’s okay, plus I don’t need any questions from Ransom.” Sliding out of bed, your quick to grab his shirt from the floor before pulling it over your head until you can get to your duffle bag in the closet.

“Text me when you make it.” Taking in his soft eyes and messy hair sticking up every which way, you’re quick to crawl up the bed between his legs until your mouths connect one more time in a mix of passion and playful from your short moans and giggles.

“I will, and I promise I’ll be back.”

“Take your time. I’ll be here.”

———

“Is she still coming?”

“Yes KK, she’s on her way,” Ransom sighs sitting on the edge of her bed. “Nice touch with the tears by the way. Who taught you how to cry on command?”

“I dunno,” Kaia shrugs. “I just thought of something sad and they happened.”

“Huh, looks like I have a future Oscar winner on my hands,” he smirks tickling her sides.

“What’s that?”

“I’ll show you later, now lie down. That sounds like your mom outside.” Sure enough, there was the chirp of a car locking followed by the chime of the doorbell.

“Some date that must’ve been,” he silently grinned to himself fixing his hair in the mirror of his daughter’s vanity. You were in those same old sweats with the dotted bleach stains you typically wore during your period. “Poor guy was definitely in for a surprise if he expected something tonight.”

“Are we still goin’ to Lolli’s Party Palace tomorrow?! I want the new Lolli doll and one that looks just like me.”

“Yes, and I promise to buy you anything else you want but what was our agreement?”

“Be good, don’t tell mama about your plan, anddd…tell you everything I know about her new friend.”

“That’s my KK,” Ransom smiles kissing his giddy daughter’s forehead as she settles under the covers.

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