#she doesn't often sit on me but right next to me so does that count

[roseandbee]

Sleepyhead

[mushies-stories]

Little succubus

Demon!Ghost X succubus!Reader

(Little succubus- prolog)

summary: Ghost was a demon who deals with business on earth. one of the strongest and most feared. ya know, all that. reader is a shy succubus who thought she was fallowing a human home until she finds out just how wrong she was. Ghost however doesn't seem to mind; in fact, he thinks it might have been fate that dropped you in his lap. ALSO Ghost has horns. :3

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering, oral (F receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, claiming.

Authors note: It's mostly... maybe edited but i will be going back and checking things out because by the end i got tired aha.

word count: 6061

“Well little succubus, just what were you planning on doing?”

You swallowed the thump that had formed in your throat. Words still never left your mouth, too scared and embarrassed. He could see you the whole time. It was just… mortifying you thought.

“Well?” he leaned in closer, eyes like steel as he stared you down. You couldn’t help the high pitched yelp you let out when he lifted one hand up to reach for you. The demon let out an amused grunt and pulled his hand back. Your tail came to wrap around your legs. “What is it little succubus, ya scared?” his tone was condescending and you swear he was smirking under that mask. 

If it wasn't already evident by the way you cowered farther into the couch, body shaking ever-so-slightly, the small nod of your head gave him the answer. 

He nodded slowly before standing back to his full overpowering stature. Eyeing you for another moment he let out a soft sigh and shook his head before rounding the couch and taking the spot next to you. He takes up most of the open space and when he spreads his legs out he takes the rest. You flinch when his legs press against your knees. “So.” he rests his arms on the back of the couch, eyes coming to focus back on you. “Followed me home thinkin i was a human man, that it?” he asks.

You nod again but this time added a little ‘mhm’ with it. You couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of panic that was starting to really set in. He was a demon and a much bigger one than you. Even sitting so close to him was almost suffocating. 

Your eyes were so big, so full of fear and glistening from the tears that were beginning to form at the corners of your eyes. “You don’t do that very often do you?” he asks, watching your every move and listening to your racing heartbeat. He knew the answer already, no, you didn't. You were too shy and much too scared. Most other succubus would be trying to use their looks and charm to get around the situation. Some don’t even hesitate to throw themself right at his feet, offering their bodies to use as an apology. But you? Oh no. You were so scared you couldn’t even move. A little doe in the headlights. Perfect little prey.

When you spoke, your voice was so quiet. Ghost figured if he wasn't already giving you his full attention he would have missed your words. “No…only when I have to.” you answer. 

One brow raised at that. “That so?” He eyes you up and down, checking out your body and face. Even though you decided to wear a dress you were still mostly covered. The tight sweater you wore also didn't stop you from shifting in your spot under his heavy gaze however. “y’er grown.” he said with a little gesture to your body. “Yet y’er so timid and easily startled, even ran away when I took a shower.” Ghost recalled. He had to force himself not to laugh out loud when you scurried away from his room.

His intense gaze was hard to keep hold with, instead you drew your eyes down to your lap.

Ghost didn’t particularly like you shying away like that but it interested him, you were peculiar for a succubus. “Little mouse, you shy away so easily. Why is that?” he asks, wanting to know how you got like this.

You spare him a quick glance and a shrug, his scarlet eyes felt so heavy. “Always been this way.” you mumble. 

A gruff laugh fills the air around you. “How's that working? Being so timid and scared has to make it difficult for you? Needing the pleasure of others to feed. Even trying to be with another of your kind.” Ghost speculated. The last part made your tail twitch a little in annoyance. He was right about all of it. It did make it hard for you. Ghost had noticed this tiny movement, it let him know he was reading you like an open booking. You just got more interesting the more you accidentally revealed about yourself. For a long moment it's silent. You didn't know what he was thinking but the longer he didn't say anything the more anxious you were getting.

“What's your name, little mouse?” he asks, breaking the silence.

You hesitate to answer, not sure if making it easier for him to know who you were is a good idea. Not seeing a better option, you settle on complying. “Y/N.'' You tell him.

“You couldn’t be a virgin, right Y/N?”

Your eyes snapped to him and you could see his grin growing from under that mask. Your lips parted to say something but no words came out. Why was he asking you something like that, why did he want to even know. Your tail curled just a bit tighter around you.

“Oh little mouse.” he chuckles. Of course, and you just happened to stumble right onto his doorstep. His cock twitched at your blushing face, this just had to be fate. right?

What you being a virgin meant doesn’t go over his head, not even for a second. Since you were a succubus and a virgin; only feeding when you needed too for necessity then you would be severely touched-starved by now. Ghost was a strong demon, his power unmatched by most and comparable to only a few. A little demon like a succubus could barely withstand being around him for too long without feeling the need to submit to him. He would bet that right now your panties were becoming a mess just by his presence alone. That was probably what led you to him in the first place.

Your whole body felt so hot. He was looking at you like you were some kind of prey. You wanted to run but the dampness in your panties was growing and it was starting to get hard to ignore it. “Why are you disguised as a human, who are you?” you ask, wanting to change the subject from yourself to anything else. 

He didn't answer you right away, he seemed to be thinking about how to answer. “You may call me Ghost.” your eyes widen as soon as his name is revealed. “As for what I'm doing on earth, well that is  none of your business little mouse.” Ghost explained, with eyes of steel and steady tone.

You nod slowly in understanding. Yeah, it really wasn’t. Ghost was a very strong demon, well known, one of the strongest and one of the scariest. If you were scared before you were terrified now. Ghost wasn't even his real name, he was a demon who roamed care free in the shadows.

Ghost let out a soft sigh and relaxed his body a little into the couch, showing you he wasn’t going to pounce on you. “Relax love, ain't gotta be so scared.” even though the sight of your eyes prickling with tears and shaking body made his cock beg to be stuffed in your little virgin pussy. “Not gonna hurt ya, you're just a curious little thing.” he tells you. 

You take a breath and relax your shoulders a bit. Your body felt tight from trying to stay so still. You tilt your head a little to the side in confusion. “About me, but I'm nothing special… I really should just leave.” You hated how weak you sounded, voice uneven and evidently full of fear. 

She shook his head. “I don't think so, I think you'd like to stay.” his eyes were challenging, wanting to see if you deny it, lie and pretend like you're not soaking wet for him. “Right little succubus? You want to stay and see what a real demon can make you feel like. Bet your little untouched pussy is crying for some attention yeah?” 

His words were dirty and they made your face feel like it was on fire. “But… I have no idea.” you tried to explain how truly little experience you had. You only knew the dreams of the few humans you have interacted with. “Why would you want to be with someone like me… I'll only disappoint you.” as you spoke your eyes fell back down and your voice was nothing more than a whisper. You feared that if you let him in like that or anyone else that they become unhappy the moment they realize you lacked experience. 

Ghost didn’t like this, he didn’t like seeing you fall apart about yourself. He knew having you to himself would be everything he’s ever needed. He wanted you and only you, something drew him to you. He just wanted to reach out and pull you against him and keep you there. After a minute of silence he decided the gentle approach wasn’t to his pacing. 

With a grunt he gripped a massive hand around your ankle and dragged your smaller body so your legs draped over one leg. “W-what are you doing?!” 

you let out a quiet yelp when his hand gripped your hip, helping bunch up your dress a little. You drew your knees together to keep him from seeing anything. His hood on you was gentle yet firm enough to keep you in place. “I can smell your arousal little one, you're soaked for me right? Let me help you, let me make you feel good. All you have to do is say please.” he tells you, determined to devour you.

You blinked a few times. He was right, your panties were soaked and your skin tingles where his hand had touched your skin and being this close to him made your head spin. Your lips parted to speak but you didn’t even know what you'd say. Could you really admit to him that you craved him more than anyone you have ever come across. Your body burneing for his touch and the whole new sensation was  becoming so overwhelming. 

Ghost was growing tired of your resistance. You both knew what you needed and he wanted nothing more to give it to you. “Too shy, little mouse.” His voice is dark, a little ominous. He moved so slide your dress further up your thigh. You reached a handout to stop him but hesitated before actually touching his hand. Something about the way he looks at you, his skin on your own; it was something you didn’t even know your body was craving so bad until now. He watched your face as his hand slid between your thighs and pressed his middle finger right against the damp spot on your panties. You shuddered and he chuckled. “Panties are soaked mouse, pussies begging for something to be stuffed inside. Bet your body is just aching to be touched.” his voice seemed to get even gruffer, lower and he leaned closer to your ear. “Say it and I’ll make you feel better love, just gotta say it for me.” he says, hot breath fanning your already warmed neck. He messages his finger into your folds so your panties can collect more of your slick.

For a moment just you gasp and shift a little as he teased your needy cunt, making you wish more and more that your panties were not in the way. You looked at him with big eyes when your lips parted once again to speak, this time you managed enough courage to get a single word out. “Please.” you squeaked the word right when he had pressed down harder against your clit.

By the way his eyes crinkled at the corners you could see that a wide grin had spread across his face. “Good girl.” he said before both of his hands found your hips and adjusted you quickly so your bottom half was on the edge of the couch and you were sitting properly against the back. He gets on his knees in front of you and rests his large hands on your thighs. Your eyes become transfixed on his hands, seeing how much of your thighs they can hold. Pushing your dress up past your hips he practically groans when he can see the mess you’ve been making of yourself. Your arousal filled his senses and made his cock twitch against his tight jeans. When you look at his face his eyes were now only rimmed with red. He hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and yanked them down and you let out a little yelp at the sudden action. Your hands gripped at your dress where it was bunched around your waist. 

Your brows raised when he hooked both arms under your legs and hiked them over his shoulders, Your cunt in full view for him now. Your tail shifted against the couch at your side. “What are you…” your voice gives out at the sight of him raising his mask above his nose. His lower face is bare for you to gaze upon. His eyes locked onto yours as he planted a kiss to one of your knees. Your own eyes kept trailing down to his lips as he peppered the soft skin on your inner thigh. 

“Smell so good, all wet and needy for me.” he mumbles against your skin before giving you a little nip. A hand released your thigh to your pussy so he could glide a finger through your folds. Your lips part with a small gasp when he circles your clit. Ghost kissed and sucked little purple marks on your soft skin while he toyed with your pussy. Then, without saying a word he lowered his head between your thighs and his tongue swiped up your dripping heat. The sweetest moan Ghost thinks he’s ever heard graced his ears. His thumb rubbed circles onto your clit while his tongue licked up your arousal. 

He couldn't suppress the groan when you whimpered and gripped his forearm. “Ghost, that feels… mmm feel so good.” you say with a sigh. His tongue was teasing your entrance, swirling around and pushing in just a little. 

He pulls his face back and rests his head against your leg. He focuses on your face when he abandons your clit and strokes his finger over your little hole. Your eyes were getting droopy and the blush painting your cheeks. “Just the beginning little one.” he chuckles and pushes a finger into you. 

Your eyes fluttered as he sank into you. Just one finger felt like such a stretch for your little hole. You knew you didn’t have to worry that much. Since you weren't a human it, but rather a succubus who wasn't a sexual creature by nature your body was meant for this to some degree even as a virgin. He pumped into you a few times, admiring the way your eyes fluttered the more pleasure you started to feel. You gasped between sweet moans that fell from your lips when he added a second finger. 

“Doing so good.” his voice was still deep but the edge to it had softened. He seemed so scary moments ago but when he's between your legs and looking at you with lust blown pupils. Even though his body still dwarfed your own it was comforting being wrapped around him while his fingers worked at stretching you out. 

When he found the spot that had your back arching he curled his fingers. Your eyes felt like they crossed and your toes curled. “Oh… Gho-ost, please.” you mewl his name. It felt like your stomach was twisting and tightening. Nothing like you’d have felt before, it was so much more intense now. Just as you were letting yourself fall into bliss it was ripped right from your when he pulled his fingers from your core. “W-wait.” you stuttered and blinked your eyes a few times to bring back your focus. A small pout forms on your lips.

You looked at Ghost who was smirking at you. “Sorry love, I promise you’ll cum just not yet. So sensitive I can't help but want to play with you.” he tells you. His hand rubs your thighs softly to help you calm down. 

He brings his fingers with you slick to his lips and takes one long swipe up his fingers. He groans and waste no time finding your clit with his lips and sucking softly on the bundle of nerves. At first he was just teasing, slow and gentle, only licking and sucking your clit. He was getting you all worked up until your arousal was dripping onto the couch. Your chest heaved and your head lulled back against the couch as you watched him. While he gripped and held one thigh still on his shoulder, the other that had been resting on your waist tightened a little, making sure your hips can't wiggle around. He sucked your clit into his mouth much harsher than he has before and your hips bucked against his arms. You can't help the loud moans that escape you. He let your clit go so he could slip his tongue into your fluttering pussy. His eyes were practically closed as he took you in. the way your body reacted to him, was so wet and needy for his touch was pushing him farther into a state of pure need and desire. 

He lapped at your pussy and slid his tongue along your gummy walls. His arm held you still the more your body began to wiggle and shake. “Ghost! Please… please it feels so good.” you ramble out. Your eyes were fluttering shut and that same intense knot was swelling in your stomach again. 

Ghost relished at the sound of his name falling from your pouty lips. So desperate and good asking him to make you cum. He wanted to watch you cum, he really did but wanted your first time cumming like this to be on his cock. So he pulls away, leaving your dripping cunt pulsing and fluttering around nothing and calling him by the right name. The moment he tasted you, heard you whimper and moan for him he knew you were his. He wanted to claim you and you him in every way he could and your pussy cumming on his cock for the first time is just how he wanted to start.

“Noo… please.” your voice was broken as you begged, nail digging into his forearm without noticing. 

When he looked at you his eyes showed a hit of remorse for leaving you to suffer again. But your disheveled shelf sweater falling from your shoulders and tail twitching at your side. “M’sorry little mouse.” he said it with such a tender voice you wanted to believe him but the ache between your thighs was unbearable. 

“Why… hurts Gho-”

“Simon.” He says, cutting you off.

Your head tilts a little in confusion. “S…Simon?” 

He nods and lowers your legs from his shoulders. He raises a hand to your face, capturing your chin between two strong fingers and guiding you forward. Your face to face with him, his lips only a beat away from yours. “Thats my name, since you’ll be crying it every time i fuck you.” he tells you, voice growing darker again. 

Your eyes widen at the intention behind his words. “Every time?” your voice was so small, you didn't want to sound hopeful.

He nods again and gives you a small soft smile, his hand cradles your cheek and strokes it gently with his thumb. “Sweet little thing, you're all mine.” he leaned in and practically slammed his lips onto yours. 

They were rough and the kiss was firm, his hands moved to your sweater, pushing the sleeves down your arms. He nipped at your bottom lip so you'd part them and with the opening he claimed your mouth with his tongue. Your head felt light and fuzzy, arms reach out for him and find his shoulders. When your hold on him tightens and you start gasping for air is when he finally pulls back. 

He bunched the end of your dress in his hands. “Arms up.” He says. You follow his instruction and lift your arms up lazily, like your limbs were just a little too heavy for you, you were already so lost to him. He lifts the fabric over your body and tosses it to the side. He looked at your bare chest with a crooked smile, delighted he didn’t have to waste time taking some useless bra off to see your perfect tits. With just his fingertips he trailed them along your lower abdomen, looking at the clear skin above your sex, your body shivered at his touch. “Gunna fuck that pretty little mark onto your body.” he growls before quickly grabbing your thigh once again and hoisting you up with him. 

You yelped when your naked body was pressed against his fully clothed one. Your body is now buzzing in anticipation, with the promise of getting your mark you were more than ready. He walks you to his room before doping you on the black sheet of his bed. Your chest bounced on impact and it caused you to wrap your arms around yourself. You felt so much more exposed with the way he towered over you, looking at your body with hunger in his eyes. 

Your eyes trailed down to see his erection and he was clearly big. Your eyes widened just a little but you really tried to keep calm, you would be fine, you told yourself. Ghost chuckles and your eyes snap back up to him. His hands hook into the waistband of his sweats and pull them past his hips. Once he was free you took another peak. He was big, that was obvious. Long and thick veins ran thick from his shaft. You swear your mouth was watering, the thought of him stretching you on his big cock had your head spinning. He was so big you knew it would still hurt, at least at first but pleasure would be what follows soon after. 

Kicking his pants aside he stocks over your body onto the bed, caging you in with his arms. He leans down to connect your lips again but this time doesn’t waste any time in claiming your mouth. At the same time he's pushing your legs apart with his and pushing the head of his cock through your slick folds. He pulls away for air while he grinds his cock against your heat.

Your body was aching, your fingers grip the sheets next to your body. You want nothing more than for him to finally stuff his cock inside you. “Please… hurt, need it please.” you beg, you breathe uneven and shaky. Your tail rests along your leg, wanting to curl around something. 

Ghost dipped his head lower and nipped at your neck softly. “Ask me correctly, Love.” He tells you. He wraps a lard hand around one breast and messages the smooth skin. Your nipples harden under his calloused hand. “Tell me who you want to fuck you little Mouse.” he rasps against you skin. He starts sucking and biting while his fingers start pinching and pulling your nipple before moving to the other. 

Your body was so sensitive you had to force your brain to work through the fog of pleasure he was causing. “You, Simon ple-eas I need you.” you plead, as tears start to prick the corners of your eyes. You needed some release and fast. 

Ghost’s cock twitches against your cunt then sits up enough to look you in the eyes. He smiles and strokes your cheek with his thumb, again trying to sooth you a little. “Alright, see there we are Love. M’gunna make you feel really good.” He practically coos at you. You nod a little frantically, not wanting to wait any longer. With a grunt he pulled your hips closer and abruptly slung your legs over his biceps. He pressed the tip of his cock on you pulsing heat, right at your tight little hole. Slowly he pushed the tip in, watching it pop in before starting a brutally slow pace at sinking into you.

Your brown knit together and your lips part but no sound comes out. You were too focused on breathing as his cock filled your pussy. “Big.. Simon, so big.” your speech was stained as he finally bottomed out. The tears at the corners of your eyes finally released and slid down your face.

Ghost leans down and licks one of the tears, your wince a little at the sudden action. “Pretty girl, crying over my big cock. Pussies squeezing me so tight and gushing around me.” he teases. “Gonna make you cum on my cock everyday love, make sure this little pussy knows who it belongs to.” He groans and starts pulling his hips back. You gasp and whine when you're left with only the tip. Gripping your hips he sank back in and started a slow rhythm, letting you get used to his cock.

Your tail instinctively inched closer to his arm and coiled around it loosely, just enough to feel a little more connected to him. You could feel every little movement and vein on his cock as it dragged against your walls. It felt good but you wanted to feel like it had earlier, when he denied you your orgasm. You wanted to cum, your body still aches from you loses. “Simon, please I want more.” you told him, eyes half lidded and swollen lips forming a small pout. 

His hips still for a moment, you were captivating like this. Under his mercy, dripping and begging for him “Such a good girl, asking so sweetly. Tell me what you want, what do you need me to do for you.” He urges.

You take a moment to formulate your thoughts. You wanted everything he could offer. While his cock rocked slowly into you it was his lips parting in a soft grunt that sparked a need in your head. “Face, I want to see…” you trailed off and your eyes shifted away from him. You were unsure if it would be okay to ask, you didn't want to upset him.

Seeing the hesitation ghost snapped his hips into you a little rougher, getting your attention. “You can say it little one, whatever you want.” Ghost had quickly come to term with the enjoyment he gets from hearing you confess to him. Your delicate little voice asking and begging him to help you. 

With a deep breath and shaky breath you nod. “Can I please see you?” you ask.

A wicked smile spreads across his face. He stills his cock, making sure to keep you nice and full of him before releasing your hips and making your tail let go of his arm. He tangled your hands together in one hand and held them above your head. “Wanna see the big scary demon huh?” he quips with a chuckle. The only response he got from you was your walls clenching unbelievably tight around him and a desperate broken whine. “Alright, needy little thing. You may see my horns.” he growls. With his free hand he hooks a thumb under the bottom and pulls it over his face. What little hair he had fell out, damp with sweat. You felt his body pulse around you and hot cock twitch inside, then a moment later horns were merging from his head. Big and curved back. His eyes were glowing, the only light in the room coming from the moon outside. 

Your eyes scanned over his features, momentarily becoming dazed at the sight of such a demon before you. “Beautiful.” your voice barely a whisper. 

Ghost chuckles and rolls his hips, bringing you back to reality. “Beautiful huh?” he repeats your words, a little surprised at your choice of complement. “Now for what I want, yeah?” he says with a grin. He begins a steady pace with his hips. He held your hands in place and focused back on your chest. Pinching and massaging your breasts while he started to move faster, snapping his hips a little rougher. “Need to make you cum love, need to see that pretty little mark form.” he tells you.

You wrapped your legs around his thigh and your tail followed, urging him to go deeper. You turned into a moaning whimpering mess under him, you knew he was holding back, still being gentle with you by the strained look on his brows. You were grateful for it, you would gladly take whatever he had for you but for tonight, tonight you needed it like this. 

He smiled at your fucked out face, fulling drunk on his cock. His cock throbbed against your walls, so tight and pulling him back in every time he pulled out. He released your hands and leaned back so he could watch your body move every time he pounded into you. “Taking me so well, so fucking tight.” he huffed. 

The pleasure was growing again, that intense feeling starting to build up and up. “Si-” you choked out. 

He watched you, felt your legs twitch against him. He knew what you wanted to say, could feel it. He dragged a hand down to where your bodies connected and started slowly circling your clit. His thumb sends waves of pleasure through your body and makes your back arch into his touch. 

“Please, Si… please I want to cum.” you practically sob, remember how it felt when he denied you earlier. “Please can I, can I c-um Si please!” you beg, desperate for your release.

Ghost looked at you with soft eyes and a mock frown. “Oh Babygirl, of course you can.” he tells you, voice gentle and calm. “Cum for me love, cum all over my cock.” he encourages you, pushing you closer to the edge with every thrust and harsh swirl to your clit. 

Finally, you could feel it, your orgasm crashing into you, sending you to a fuzzy blotchy world. Your eyes roll to the back of your head before closing, strangled whiny moans fall from your lips without hesitation. “Si-Simon! Mmm… good, so ohh.” Your pussy clamps down impossibly tight around his length, causing him to still his hips and cock inside you. Your stomach starts to burn with more and more pleasure, feeling like your orgasm is never going to end.

While your eyes are closed and you're lost in the intense feeling, Ghost is watching you intensely, watching you fall apart until your lower abdomen starts to glow red. He felt it burn under his fingertips while he continued to abuse your swollen clit, he pushed down a little, feeling the tip of his cock bulging, the pressure on your newly forming mark making your cry out and trash a little under him. “That's it, doing so good for me little one. Cumming so pretty like this on my cock.” Your pussy gushes around him, slick dripping and making a mess under you.

The feeling became so intense that blotches of black blobs started to fill your vision. You couldn't hear anything, but you could feel a warmth on your cheek. You blinked a few times; your eyes must have been closed because your sight was starting to come back. “Simon…” you mumble when his face becomes clearer. 

He chuckles softly and pushes some hair from your face. “There you are, lost ya for a second.” he says. You can still feel his cock, keeping your pussy nice and full. 

You give him a weak smile while you catch your breath. “That was… I’ve never.” You couldn't find the words.

His hand ghosts over the new mark above your sex. His hips started to move again, he couldn't wait any longer. He needed to fuck you now, fuck you until he empties himself deep in your cunt. “Getting your mark always makes it more intense, burned with pure pleasure.” He notes. You nod. You knew that, you just didn’t know it would be that strong and overwhelming. He didn't take more than a minute to focus back on plunging his cock as deep as possible into your dribbling core. “Need you to cum again for me Love.” He tells you, now gripping your hip with one hand and holding himself above you with the other. He slammed into you, much harsher than before. “Need to fill your pretty little pussy up, need you take my cum.” he growled. 

You nod, feeling the pleasure already building. “Yes, wanna cum again Si, please.” his lewd words and brutal pace was enough to have you right on the edge again. The lingering sensitivity of your mark makes it so easy for him to rip loud desperate moans from you. The sound of his cock slamming into you and your flick hole fills the room. “Wanna feel you inside Si, want you c-um.” you moan.

Ghost leans down Locke's your lips together, needing to taste you. Your arms came to wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer. He ate every moan and whimper you let out. When your pussy pulsed and calmed down around him, he couldn't suppress the deep guttural groan he made. He pulls back a fraction for air, his hips snap harder into you. 

“Fuck, gonna flood your cunt with my cum. M’so close.” he groans and huffs as he fucks into you. something primal growing in him as your pussy squeezes his cock, never letting him pull out too much. 

Your walls clamp down and your legs shake uncontrollably around him. “Ohh, ohh! Si~” you moan. Keeping your eyes locked on him was hard when the pleasure threatened to force them closed. Your orgasm came without warning, you let out a shaky high-pitched moan and clung to him for dear life. 

Ghost’s was so close, your pussy trying so hard to milk his cock. “Just like that, fuck… pussies clinging to my cock.” he says through gritted teeth. With a few harsh truths he was painting your walls with his thick cum. He pressed into you, making sure to empty him deep. “Oh fuck, taking all of me so fucking well.” he praises, eyes lidded and brow sheened with sweat. His hips finally stilled with his cock still buried deep. His cum leaked out around him, dripping down and onto the sheets. 

He leaned back and admired the mess you both made of his sheets. Your hair was a mess and your face was flushed. He rubbed your thighs, legs no longer wrapped around him but now laying slack at his sides. He looked at your mark, the pretty heart and that adorned your skin. He grazed his fingers over it and smiled when you twitched at his touch. Still so sensitive. 

“Thank you.” your voice was so soft. Your eyes were half lidded and threatening to close on you. A small content smile on your lips. 

He shook his head. “No need to thank me, Love. not yet anyways.” he grinned teasingly. “You did just hand yourself over to one of the most powerful demons in all of hell ya know.” he informs you again. 

You wanted to giggle at that but the sound died in your throat when he started to pull out. “Si-Simon wait, please.” you asked hastily. He stopped and raised a brow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “Too much, go slow… please.” you plead. 

Ghost held back his laughter with a sigh. “How about we do this.” he offers and slips back in, even though it was now soft it still felt like it took up all the room in your pussy. He gripped your thighs and raised you onto his lap. “Why don't we take a bath and make sure your pussy is completely satisfied.” the look on of pure needy and desire in your eyes was all he needed. 

It took a while to get you both cleaned. Begging him to fill you up over and over prolonging the soak in the large tub. He didn't mind; however, you were just perfect for him. Needy and cock drunk for him. He was never letting you go now.

[m0nsterqzzz]

word count: 3k

- Liar Liar - 

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

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You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

 All is fair in love and music though.

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[babsisbakery]

Kitchen miracle

Leah Williamson x dutch!reader

“Leah, get your ass in the kitchen.” her head shoots up from her phone almost immediately. What the hell has she done this time, are her thoughts. After cautiously entering the kitchen she realises what has slipped her mind. She tried to make you breakfast but then her mum called her in the morning and she kinda forgot. So she stares at the slight mess she had made. Flour on the counter, egg shells left and right to a completely doughy mixture covered apron. A bad cook to say the least. But it's the gesture that counted. “I’m sorry my love, I totally forgot, my mum called a-” “Le what were you doing?” “Uhm tried to make you some breakfast.” It doesn't sound like a statement rather a question. “Babe, I can't be mad at you, you're too sweet for your own good.” You walk towards your girlfriend and envelope her in a tight hug. “I love you Le” with a bashful grin Leah returns the declaration. “I love you too.” After standing in each other's arms for a few minutes just enjoying the warmth of your partner, Leah speaks up, “Could you please show me how to make your favourite breakfast?”

Your head turns downwards to look into her eyes. “Of course i can, let's get to it shall we but first we should clean up this chaos love.” a giggle leaves your lips while Leah shamefully looks away. With your fingers on her chin you turn her head. “Baby there is nothing to be ashamed of.” and with leaving her time to respond you kiss her. A few moments go by, you pull away, Leah chasing your lips, unsuccessfully as you're taller than her, and you bite your lower lip as Leah’s actions are melting your heart. 

So while you are searching for the perfect playlist to start baking in the meantime Leah begins cleaning. Kitchen peace is restored pretty quickly with two people working together ideally. “Okay now I'm going to weigh everything and you take out the Pannenkoeken pan cause we are making Pannenkoekeeeeeen.” “We are making what?” “Babe you know pancakes, right?” “Of course I know what pancakes are but what in the world are Pannenkoeken?” You are amused by her confusion, her furrowed brow looks quite adorable. “It's similar to pancakes, don't question me, rather help cause I’m the one who could make something tasty.” Leah’s hand shoots to her chest acting offended but you both know she is joking.

“Step one is to mix all the dry ingredients together which means flour, salt, cinnamon and vanilla sugar.” Your girlfriend carefully combines these, eager to continue. “Now for the next step I like to whisk the eggs in a separate bowl beforehand so it's well distributed when added to the flour.” You grab an extra bowl and hand it to the defender. She does as she's told and then pours them into the dry mixture. “Well done babe. Now follows milk and a tiny bit of melted butter. And e voila.” Leah stares at you dumbfounded, “Wait that's it, we are done?” “Yeah see its pretty easy when you get the hang of it darling.” She is amazed. “But you still have to do the actual Pannenkoeken now that the ‘dough’ is ready to go.”

“I pre-heated the pan a bit for you, just have to put some butter on it and scoop the batter into the pan. Rotate the pan and wait. When the beige colour turns into a more yellowish one you flip it. Got it?” “Yeah I think I got it.” As you suspect she does it excellently. Leah gets more comfortable making them with each Pannenkoeken. While she is in her element, surprisingly, you search the cabinets for something to eat them with. Cutting up some fruit, getting out the Nutella, jam and honey plus walnuts you are all set. Two dishes are already on the counter stacked with a few Pannenkoeken. You can't believe your eyes as you turn around and find your girlfriend flipping one in the air. Luckily she catches it, serving it on your plate.

Both of you sit down on the dining table, diving in. “That was really fun my love, we should do that more often.” states Leah. A grin on your face and a satisfied stomach make you nod. “Definitely, you did an amazing job. Maybe I’ll make a chef out of you after all.” You both burst out laughing. “Good one baby, good one.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Not Since I Found You

Requested Here!

Pairing: (divorced)Deacon Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After Annie was changed by her brain tumor, she left Deacon. Now that he has you in his life, she decides that she doesn't want him to move on and does everything she can think of to sabotage your relationship.

Warnings: Annie is completely different after removing the brain tumor, angst, lots of fluff, quick tense change

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Deacon’s end-of-shift routine had changed drastically over the past year. Before, he would rush home to see Annie and hug his kids. Now, he sits on a bench in the locker room, looks at pictures of Matthew, Lila, and Samuel, and counts down the days until he can see them again. Anything he could do at work to delay going home to a cold and lonely apartment, he’d do it.

After Annie awoke from her surgery to remove the tumor in her brain, she was different. Deacon tried everything he could to remind Annie of why they fell in love and convince her that it could be the same as before. The Annie Deacon once knew was long gone, and the new Annie wasted no time filing for divorce and getting custody of the kids. So, Deacon spent the next year in a vicious cycle of loneliness, struggling to accept what has happened and wondering if he’ll ever feel alive again. But then, he left SWAT HQ on a random weekday, went to a park to walk, and met you. Then, suddenly, everything brightened again.

Less than a week later, you became part of Deacon’s life. He texted you often, made plans to hang out, and, by the end of the month, asked you on a date. Despite the heartbreak he’s been through and the misery he has allowed himself to stay in, Deacon fell for you quickly.

“Are you free tonight?” Deacon asks over the phone.

“Mm, I’ll have to check my schedule,” you joke. “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“My team is going out to dinner tonight, and I want you to come.”

“Deacon,” you begin.

“I’m sure,” he answers before you ask. “You’re important to me, and they’re my family.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Deacon corrects you. “See you tonight.”

Several hours later, you hold Deacon’s hand as you enter the restaurant. His team is his family, and you know that meeting them is important. Your relationship is getting serious, and tonight solidifies that.

“Hondo, Street, Chris, Tan, Luca, this is my girlfriend,” Deacon begins once you’re seated.

Immediately, you’re greeted with handshakes, hugs, questions, and smiles. Talking to them is easy. It's like they’ve been your best friends for as long as they’ve been Deacon’s. Deep down, however, a small, nagging question wonders if they like you or if this is an act for Deacon’s benefit.

After you receive your drinks, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, and Chris joins you.

“Thank you,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug in the privacy of the women’s room.

“For what?” you question.

“Being so great for Deacon. Watching what he went through with Annie was… it was awful. But then you came along, and he’s happy again. We want the best for him, and that’s you.”

“You think so?”

Chris scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “If you could see how he looks at you, you wouldn’t have a single doubt. You’re good for each other, and he loves you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

“More importantly than Deacon, you also got a new best friend.”

“Street?” you tease.

She shoves you gently before she loops her arm through yours. “No one likes Street, that’s one thing you need to know.”

“Deacon seems to,” you argue playfully.

“Deacon has a thing for strays.” Chris realizes what she implied and adds, “Not you!”

“I got it. We’re best friends now, right? So, don’t worry about offending me.”

“Oh, I knew I’d like you.”

“Sorry,” Tan says as he pulls his shopping cart toward him.

“No worries,” the person behind the other cart says.

“Annie?” Tan questions, stepping forward to see her.

“Victor, hi,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Annie,” a man calls as he walks down the aisle. “Sorry.”

“It’s our second date and we both forgot that cooking requires ingredients,” Annie explains.

“Well, good for you,” Tan says. “Glad to see you and Deacon are both moving on. Have a nice night.”

Annie watches Tan walk past; though her date is talking to her, she can only focus on one thing. Deacon and another woman. Annie may not love him anymore but does not appreciate the visual. She doesn’t want to see Deacon with someone else, no matter what.

“Annie?” her date tries again. “Tomato basil or marinara?”

“You pick,” she mumbles. He nods and weighs the options while Annie considers what she could do to ensure that Deacon won’t move on. As far as she’s concerned, he has no reason to move on after her.

Deacon is nearly ready for your date when someone knocks on his door. He is surprised to see Annie and his kids standing outside. When Lila reaches forward to knock, he pulls the door open and squats to hug her.

“Hey!” he greets as the boys join the hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprising you!” Lila answers happily.

“Something came up and I have to meet someone, not sure when I’ll be done,” Annie says. She looks at his nice outfit and adds, “But if you’ve got plans, I can-“

“No, no,” Deacon replies hurriedly. “I can watch them.”

“Great. Thanks, David.”

Annie disappears down the hall, smiling to herself for her success in keeping him from meeting his date. While she celebrates her perceived victory, Deacon takes his kids inside, abandons his suit jacket on a chair, and dials your number.

“Hey, Deac,” you greet when you answer.

“Hi,” he begins. “I’m so sorry, but Annie just dropped the kids off and needs me to watch them tonight.

“I understand, Deacon. Enjoy your time with them; we can reschedule.”

“Thank you.”

Lila reaches up toward Deacon’s phone, and he smiles as he lowers it and puts it on speaker. “Someone wants to say hi,” Deacon tells you.

“Hi!” Lila calls.

“Well, hello, Lila,” you reply happily. “I hope you have fun with your dad tonight.”

“Are you coming over?” she asks.

“You can if you want,” Deacon adds before you can answer.

“What does Lila want?” you inquire.

Lila smiles up at Deacon, and he answers for her, “She wants to see you.”

“What if I come over for dinner and then let you enjoy some family time after?” you suggest.

“That sounds perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Deacon ends the call and sits on the couch with his kids. Spending time with them and you is better than the expensive reservation you had, he thinks. Deacon may never know what Annie’s plan was, but her attempt at sabotage actually made Deacon’s night better. Besides, you’d already met his kids when they stayed with him for a weekend, and they enjoy your company almost as much as he does.

“Here to see Deacon?” Street asks when he notices you waiting at SWAT HQ.

“I am,” you answer with a smile. “He’s in a meeting; Hondo told me I could wait here.”

“Don’t make me give you a parking ticket,” he teases.

Around the corner, Annie stops when she hears Deacon’s name. More, when she hears that another woman is here to see Deacon. She doesn’t know if it’s the same person Tan mentioned or the same one whose date she interrupted, but she doesn’t like it. After Street leaves, she walks into the common area and sees you sitting in a chair with your phone in your lap.

“May I?” Annie asks, pointing to the empty chair beside you.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, smiling.

“Thanks. So, are you a cop’s wife?”

“No, just a girlfriend.”

“Then you’re the brave one in the relationship,” Annie says.

“Not at all. I worry about him all the time.”

Annie hums before she muses, “Seems like that would put a lot of strain on a relationship.”

“Well, the alternative is a complete lack of care and empathy. To me, that’s not even an option.”

“Sure, but… doesn’t that constant worry put a barrier between you? Or maybe your relationship is new enough that you haven’t noticed yet. He will.”

You nod and unlock your phone. Annie may not know you recognize her, but she’s in a few pictures at Deacon’s apartment. The first time you came over, he explained everything to you: the tumor, the sudden change in her personality, and how she broke his heart by leaving and taking his kids most of the time. You knew she had been changed by the tumor, but you didn’t expect she’d try to scare you into leaving Deacon.

Hondo steps out of the office and looks between you and Annie. When you lock eyes with him, he tips his head to invite you in while he walks toward Annie. You mouth thank you and walk quickly into the office where Deacon is. You decide not to tell him what Annie said, but you suspect he knows more about her new attitude than you do.

Annie slides a diamond ring onto her left hand and watches it glint in the light. She came to the jewelry store to get Lila a necklace for her birthday and was distracted by the row of shining engagement rings. When Deacon proposed, they were young, and he got a sentimentally rich ring that was cheap. At that point, she loved it, but now she wonders what it would have been like to have received a ‘real’ ring. She doesn’t miss Deacon, but she misses his devotion to her, how he’d never as much as look at another woman.

The bell over the door rings as it opens, and Annie returns the ring to the saleswoman and asks to see any kids’ jewelry they have.

“Annie?” Deacon asks.

Annie turns toward the door and smiles when she sees him. “David. Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, glancing at the engagement ring being returned to its display.

“Shopping for Lila’s birthday. I was thinking I’d get her a necklace; she’s been talking about getting one for weeks.”

Deacon nods, aware that Lila wants a necklace because she loves the one you wear daily.

“What about you? You’ve never been a jewelry guy,” Annie points out.

You don’t know what kind of guy I am anymore, Deacon thinks. “Just replacing the chain,” Deacon says, tugging on the necklace tucked under his shirt.

Annie nods and follows the saleswoman to a different display case as Deacon approaches a desk at the back of the store.

“I have a pickup for David Kay,” he tells the man at the desk.

The man types his name, nods, and excuses himself to retrieve the order. Deacon looks at the back wall but is aware of where Annie is (a job hazard and an annoyance in this situation).

“Here you are, Mr. Kay,” the man says as he passes a bag over the desk. “It has been sized and polished, as requested.”

“Perfect,” Deacon replies. “Thank you.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Annie asks.

“What girl?”

“You and I both know it’s not a necklace chain.”

“You and I don’t know anything anymore, Annie.” Deacon begins to step past her, then adds, “Lila would like the one with the silver branch and flowers.”

As he leaves the jewelry store with your engagement ring at his side, Deacon focuses on you rather than Annie’s odd reaction to thinking he is proposing. She’d been unjustly angry and jealous after her surgery, even accused Deacon of cheating on her with Chris, and that shift in her mindset hasn’t gone away.

You text Deacon as he gets in his car, and his questions about Annie disappear as he smiles at your name.

Your phone rings while you are waiting for Deacon to arrive. The number isn’t one you recognize, but you answer anyway.

“Hello?” you greet.

“Hi, this is Annie Kay,” the woman on the other end says.

“Oh, um, hi,” you stutter. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important.”

“I think-“

“Listen, I’m just calling to warn you. I know that you think things are getting serious with David, Deacon, whatever you call him. But it won’t work out.”

“Annie,” you try to interrupt.

“It won’t work because he will never be as happy with you as he was with me.”

Deacon pulls in and parks, and you hang up on his ex-wife. The phone rings again, but you mute the ringer and walk out to greet Deacon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping your face between his hands.

“Yeah,” you answer.

Deacon shakes his head, and you admit, “Annie just called me. She wanted to tell me that you’d never be as happy with me as you were with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon sighs. “I’ll talk to her.”

“She really changed, didn’t she?”

Deacon nods as his arms wrap around you. “She was wrong.”

“Oh, I know,” you agree playfully. “Deacon, I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies. “So much.”

Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are home with Annie the next time you and Deacon go on a date. He takes you to an overview where you can see where you met and brings a special picnic dinner. Around 8 p.m., Lila asks her mom to stay up later. Since there’s no school tomorrow, Annie agrees, and the kids watch the clock rather than the television above it.

Above Los Angeles, your watch changes to 8:15, and Deacon takes your hand as he encourages you to stand. He presses a button on his phone, and when the music begins to play, he pulls you close and dances with you. At 8:19 exactly, the song ends, and Deacon drops to one knee.

“Second chances aren’t guaranteed,” Deacon begins. “But you are by far the best second chance I’ve ever gotten. I love you more than I thought I could love anything ever again. You’re good with my kids, you don’t care that I’m used and have been broken over and over, and you never fail to make me feel like I’m the only man you’ll ever want.” Deacon pulls a velvet box from the picnic basket and raises the ring toward you to ask, “Will you keep loving me forever, and marry me?”

“Yes!” you yell, taking Deacon’s hand. “Deacon, yes.”

You drop to your knees to hug Deacon, but he redirects you to kiss you, and he pulls you just as close as when you were dancing. You and your love melt into Deacon for eternity.

In Annie’s living room, when the clock changes to 8:20, Matthew, Samuel, and Lila jump and cheer. Annie doesn’t know that her attempts to sabotage Deacon’s relationship will never work. Deacon’s children know they’re gaining a stepmom which is cause for celebration. However, everyone is in for a surprise when they learn Deacon plans to petition for custody.

“Deacon,” you say after you pull back. “You’re not broken.”

“Not anymore,” he agrees. “Not since I found you.”

[cameronspecial]

Some People Can Change

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Drugs and Angst

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Rafe really does want to change, but what happens if nobody else believes he can?

A/N: Rafe isn't a murderer and doesn't hide dead bodies in this one-shot, but everything else he does in Canon happens.

Masterlist

Y/N Y/L/N was only supposed to be a one-night stand. Rafe wasn’t planning on interacting with her after she left his bedroom. He was a Kook and she was a Pogue, who worked as a bartender at the club. However, when he woke up the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of “Dance The Night” accompanied by her dance moves, he knew she wasn’t really going to be leaving his life after today. Plus, her advice was life-saving. “I think I’m going to do something really bad,” he confessed to her, sitting at the kitchen island with coffee in hand. She looked at him in understanding, “Well, you said going to, which implies it has happened yet. And if it hasn’t happened, then you always have a chance to fix it. It’s up to you to own the fact that you recognize it isn’t good and to stop it.” This led to Rafe stopping the murder of his father that he put into action. 

———

Ever since that day, Rafe is not often seen without his arm around Y/N, looking at her like she is his world. Because she is. He knows she wouldn’t put up with the shit that he pulls on a normal basis, so he made an effort to stop his vices. He is just grateful she is relatively new to town and hasn’t had the chance yet to hear the gossip about him. This means he has a chance to turn his life around before she finds out. But no one in his life actually believes he can change. 

“I told you, Barry. I’m not dealing or using anymore. Not cocaine, not weed. I gotta go cold turkey,” Rafe reiterates, sliding the drugs and gun towards the pogue. “And I certainly don’t need this gun anymore.” Barry shakes his head and pushes the item back toward Rafe, “You really think you are going to last man? You aren’t going to be able to stay away from these just because of her. You can’t change man.” “You’re wrong. Every time I do drugs, I’m making the conscious decision to turn towards them. Y/N is helping me realize that I have other ways of coping with my issues,” he gestures his hand toward his chest to prove himself. “Come on, Country Club. Just take them back.” Rafe grows frustrated with this conversation. Instead of fighting back and yelling at the dealer, he tries to take deep breaths to calm himself. It sort of works, but nobody is perfect. So he storms out of the trailer with the loud clang of the front door closing behind him. 

He gets home from Barry’s storming into the living room with his anger clear on his face. “Love, what’s wrong?” Y/N poses, lowering the volume of the TV. Rafe gives her a harsh look, “WHAT THE F-!” He can’t finish his yelling because Y/N is already gently placing her hand on his sternum to guide his breathing. “I know you are angry about something, right now, but that gives you no right to displace that anger towards me. So if you feel the need to release this negative energy, then I would like for you to channel this feeling through working out, please. I’ll come to see you to talk after half an hour.” Rafe knows that she is correct and she probably got these ideas from a psychology book she bought. God, she’s so smart. 

Rafe heads up to the punching bag in his room and starts throwing punches at it. As promised, she comes to check on him after some time. “Now that we’ve calmed down, do you want to talk about it?” Y/N inquires, bringing his hands into her smaller ones and giving his bruised knuckles a kiss. He nods at her, “Yeah, I just went to give something back to a… uh… a friend and he insisted that I still needed it. It was frustrating.” His subconscious knew the problem was deeper than that and this caused tears to threaten to spill. Rafe is quick to hide his face behind his palms. 

“Somehow I don’t believe that this is the true root of your crying. Do you think you can talk about it?”

“Uhh, no. I don’t think I truly know what I’m feeling. Can we just cuddle and think instead?”

Y/N is happy to oblige, lying down on the bed and opening her arms so he can rest his head on her chest. 

———

“No, Rafe. I have to tell Y/N. She deserves to know,” Sarah argues, making her way back into the house from the back patio. Rafe is quick to follow her. At the same time, Y/N is heading towards the same door from the bathroom. “Tell me what?” Sarah turns towards the girl, ready to tell her about Rafe’s faults. 

“Rafe is a liar and thief and violent and a drug addict. He isn’t a good person, sweetie!” 

“I may not have been a good person and I admit to being everything you’ve said but I’m trying to change. Y/N helped me realize that I need to change.”

“Ooh, like you can change. Honestly, no offense Y/N, but we both know this road to redemption act is all going to go away once you get bored of her.” 

Rafe wants to yell that it isn’t true what Sarah is saying, but he remembers the breathing exercises Y/N taught to help calm down and puts those into practice. He knows adding more anger to this argument is just going to lead toward a slippery slope of words he will regret. 

“You may believe that, but I don’t. So I’m sorry I stole the cross and melted it down. I know that it can’t bring back the artifact for Pope. But I’ve already given the money I got from it to Pope and made a donation with my own money to the church.”

“Well good for you, doing one good thing to not feel guilty and to tell Y/N you are a good person.”

“I know about all of this already. Thank you for wanting to tell me, Sarah, but I already know everything and I would like to get the rest of the information straight from Rafe, now,” Y/N interrupts the argument before it becomes never-ending. Rafe’s palms are pressed into his eyes and she knows he is trying to hide his tears. She does not allow the conversation to continue; instead, brings him upstairs and moves his hands from his face. She wipes the tears away and presses a kiss to his forehead, “You don’t have to hide your tears away from me.”

“Why can’t anyone believe I can change? What if everyone is right?”

“Don’t say that. I believe that maybe not everyone can change, but some people can change. And you are definitely a part of some people.”

“How can you say that about me with everything you’ve known about all this time?”

“Because the Rafe that I was told about would’ve ended that argument with violence. He was violent, rude, a liar, stole and relied on drugs like it was water. The one before me approached that argument with recognition of his wrongdoing. He is working on his anger, is polite, tells me the truth, always pays for me and attends NA. He is one month sober. That is how I know you have changed.”

“Nobody else believes I can.”

“I know, love. I know it hurts. But right now let’s just focus on who does believe. You and Me. Then we can use this belief to prove everyone else wrong.”

“Okay, I can do that. I love you, Y/N/N.”

“ I love you too, love.”

[godslino]

i am so obsessed with your writing style and im so happy to see that you like to write kidfics because i don’t see them often !! could you write seungmin as a dad?

sending love <3

alright. kenzie gave me dad!seungmin brain worms. everyone enjoy (i certainly enjoyed writing it) and let me know if this deserves to have a continuation

TINY HANDS | seungmin dad!seungmin. request. 640 words.

Tiny hands.

It’s the one thing Seungmin will never get used to—ten fingers, ten little fingernails, soft skin that he can’t get enough of.

“What are you doing?”

Seungmin looks up just as you’re walking into the living room, freshly showered and hair still damp. Beautiful as ever.

He doesn’t allow himself to be distracted for too long, immediately turning his attention back to the sleeping baby in his lap. His baby.

“I’m counting her fingers.” he says, rubbing his thumb along each individual digit. He could get lost in his own head like this, comparing the size of his own hand to the borderline microscopic ones that your daughter has.

“Well, does she have them all?” you ask as you burrow into the armchair across from him, “Because if she doesn’t then I have a phone call to make.”

Seungmin chuckles and brings one of her tiny hands to his lips, places a small kiss on her knuckles. “Don’t worry, they’re all here.”

Everything about her is so delicate. Seungmin was scared at first, worried that she’d break if he touched her. Born two weeks early, she was smaller than anything he’d ever seen before. Seungmin couldn’t believe that he had a part in creating that, in making a human so beautiful, living proof of your love for one another. It’s still surreal to him, like a dream that he hopes he never wakes up from.

Once he got over his initial fear that he’d accidentally hurt her, Seungmin never spent a second without her close to him.

Sometimes you scold him, tell him that she’ll never get used to sleeping in her crib because she’s always nestled into the crook of his elbow. Even when he’s doing things around the house, he baby wears like a champ, has her pressed up against his chest as he parades around the living room in what was supposed to be your swaddle carrier.

“That wasn’t a gift for you, idiot.” Is what Minho had said the first time he stopped by and caught a glimpse of Seungmin with it on.

“He literally won’t take it off.” you laughed, grabbing the bags of groceries out of Minho’s hands so he could shuffle over and coo over her sleeping figure tucked into the fabric, a proud look on Seungmin’s face.

Seungmin doesn’t know how he’s going to do it when she gets bigger. What if he never gets to carry her again? What if she doesn't want him to carry her? What if her hands grow so much that he can’t hold both of them in his own anymore? Seungmin’s thought about it so many times, has driven himself to tears over hypothetical situations that are eons away from ever happening.

Seungmin holds his daughter like he has the world in his hands. He rubs his nose against her cheeks and smiles when she blinks at him, makes noises that have her opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to copy him. He takes an endless amount of pictures that eat away at the storage on his phone but he really couldn’t care less. He sings to her when she cries and laughs when she burps after every feeding session. He whispers stories to her about how the two of you met when she wakes up in the middle of the night and he has to rock her back to sleep. He hopes and dreams that one day, when she’s older, she’ll know that his love for her extends much farther than any distance imaginable.

Tiny hands. Ten little fingers. Seungmin watches as they wrap around his own and smiles brighter than the sun.

When you eventually move to snuggle up next to him, your head against his chest as you both sit with a finger curled inside of each of your daughter’s little fists, nothing else matters.

This is love, and it’s Seungmin’s to keep forever.

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[woahjo]

bird of prey (tendou x reader) - chapter 3

series masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tendou x Reader, Bokuto x Reader

Series Summary: Satori Tendou is your best friend, but you fuck for fun.

Chapter Title: Act I, Scene 3 — Pomegranate

Chapter Summary: Work is a nice distraction sometimes. Satori uses it as his own personal way to forget the shit he doesn't want to think about. It's a shame that said shit walks through the front door.

Chapter Content Warnings: afab!reader, tendou's pov, college au, friends with benefits, no strings attached, angst, jealousy, competition, insecurity, tension, sexualization of a fruit (my bad), dirty pictures / suggestive conversation, multiple partners (not cheating)

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: After many moons, she's back and in the same exact outfit she wore 6 months ago. crossposted to ao3 ofc.

< prev |next >

“So what if they're seeing someone else?” Wakatoshi says, tossing him the small, round figure they’d been throwing back and forth. “Has that stuff ever really bothered you before?” 

Satori is a contradictory person, he thinks. There is a lot about him that he feels defies definition. An unplaceable sense of desire that radiates from every crevice in his body. Something about him that he can both hide, but never hope to conceal. 

“Not really,” Satori responds. 

He’s reclined on his bed, his neck craned at an awkward angle against the headboard. Wakatoshi sits across the room at his desk chair, one foot pushing him absentmindedly back and forth. 

“So what’s the issue?” Wakatoshi questions, his baritone voice bouncing lightly off of the walls. 

“Not really sure,” Satori says, turning the object over in his hand before tossing it back. “I just don’t… like it.” 

“But you don’t wanna go out with them?” He raises the question like it baffles him, which Satori supposes that it does. Wakatoshi has always been… monogamous, for lack of a better term. When he likes something, he goes for it without thinking about anything else. 

Satori isn’t quite like that. That’s not to say that he’s considerate, because consideration requires a sort of awareness for others that Satori lacks in a very abstract sense, but he’s calculating. What Satori does, he does because he wants to and because it feels right, but he considers the dynamic of it. He thinks often about what “could be” in an extreme sense and then seeks out that thrill with whoever he has in mind. 

“It’s not really in the agreement,” Satori laughs dryly and with no particular disdain. 

“It could be,” Wakatoshi says, his ideal state of mind peering through. 

Satori just gives Wakatoshi a pointed glance before turning his attention to the window. 

Late November this time of year sees the beginning of snowfall and as December begins to get going in full swing, snow comes down often. Thick, powder-like clusters flurry past his window outside, clinging to the small divots on the outside of the window. It begins to crowd his view and if he were to glance out of the window, he’d see that the streetlight outside is hazy and looks somehow distant. 

“I like what we have going though,” he says, not with any particular sort of conviction. “It works for me and it’s nice. The sex is good and their company is great. It seems like a shame for it to end.” 

“They haven’t said anything about ending it yet though, have they?” He tilts his head. 

Satori shakes his head noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders briefly. 

It’s true that you haven’t. The two of you tip-toe carefully around the subject of your relationship to Bokuto, but you never break it off. Each time you finish and lay sweat-soaked and panting in each other’s company, Satori gets the distinct feeling that it’s coming, but it never quite does. The ball never drops and he vaguely feels like there’s a space there for him to speak. To maybe be the bigger person and do it himself. He doesn’t think he will though, he likes this far too much to end it. 

“Not yet,” Satori says. “But they’ve been seeing each other for more than a few weeks now and from what I know, it’s pretty regular, so… you know… matter of time, I guess.” 

Wakatoshi doesn’t really say anything. He’s never been a man of all too many words. Satori shouldn’t find his silence unsettling, but for some reason he does. It’s like a quiet confirmation. 

Satori is an idealistic person at times. The world, for him, is played in saturated color. It’s vibrant and it glitters. He’s never been all too preoccupied with the negative side of situations because when things sour, Satori is exceptionally good at cutting his losses. There’s fun and then there’s not fun and they exist in two completely different universes. Satori happens to exist in the fun one, where he never has to take anything all too seriously. 

Maybe it’s a negative quality of his. He sometimes thinks that if he never takes anything too seriously, he’ll never have to worry about getting hurt, and if he’s always having fun, there’s no room for pain. Satori doesn’t like pain or discomfort. He has a very low tolerance for it and he’s never been too keen to stick around and see where the limit is. Of course, the flip side of this is that Satori inadvertently causes pain wherever he goes. Carelessness acts as a sort of medium for it, one that he himself manages to circumvent. 

You have been the first arrangement where he’s avoided that particular discomfort. The discomfort of causing another person pain. You just get it and in the process, you get him. 

“The futon is in the closet,” Satori says, sinking down into his bed and pulling the comforter up to his chin. 

He hears Wakatoshi get up from the chair and it gives a distinct click as it moves back into its fully upright position. There’s the gentle squeak of the thin closet door, the soft sound of a blanket rustling, and then the click of the closet latch. Satori listens as Wakatoshi lays the futon out on the carpeted floor beside his bed, the distinct ruffle of it as he throws it out and slowly lays it down. As Wakatoshi crawls to lay down, Satori glances over at him, watching his friend’s broad body get under the blanket he’d laid out with it. 

“You know that it’s really impolite to make your guests get out their own futon, right?” Wakatoshi says absentmindedly as he settles in. 

“You’re more like family,” Satori grins, the corners of his lips curling up. “And since I’m older, you should do it yourself.” 

Wakatoshi blows a quick puff of air out of his nose and Satori gives a small chuckle as he settles in. There’s a long beat of silence as Satori turns out the light and they lay in the dark room. He can hear as Wakatoshi turns over and then finally settles and lays on his back. 

“I think it’s worth talking to them about,” Wakatoshi adds, picking up the previous conversation as if it had never stopped. “You’re stupid if you don’t.” 

Satori lets out one quick laugh. “Maybe I’m stupid, I don’t know.” 

Wakatoshi groans a little and Satori is a bit surprised to see him show that sort of frustration over something other than volleyball. He laughs a little and stares at the ceiling. 

“What?” 

He hears the sound of Wakatoshi shaking his head against the pillow. “Nothing. It just sounds to me like you like them.” 

“Well,” Satori muses. “I do. Obviously. They’re one of my best friends, how could I not?” 

“Like that?” Wakatoshi emphasizes.

Satori just sort of hums noncommittally and it isn’t long before the room has settled into silence, evened out by Wakatoshi’s breathing. 

Satori supposes that there may be love there. There has to be. Maybe it’s not the kind Wakatoshi thinks he’s looking at, but Satori is near certain that it exists. 

—

Satori works part time in a small izakaya. It’s an out-of-the-way, run down place, but he likes it. At first, he only picked up the job to help pay for his car, since the shit-mobile’s expenses were dipping a little too far into savings, but now, he finds that it’s a nice escape. For some reason, the space feels like he’s just walked into a picture. 

It hasn’t been redecorated since the place opened and it’s dressed in a classic Japanese style. The space is small, no more than 8 tatami mats for the sitting area, giving it a pleasantly stuffy and crowded feel, and it always smells vaguely of barbecued meat and beer. Satori thought the smell was unpleasant at first. He didn’t like the way it clung to his clothes, giving the impression that he’d spent the evening drinking, but now he’s grown rather used to it. It’s become one of the many smells he sometimes carries with him. 

The outside of it is modest, just down a step from the sidewalk, with a small sliding door that is always open during daytime business hours. There’s a glowing neon sign just outside, protruding from the side of the building and into the alleyway. It’s the most marketing this place does, but that suits it fine. Most of its customers live in the neighborhood anyway and tourists are infrequent visitors, as there are far trendier bars in Sendai. 

The inside is homely and gives the distinct impression of having walked into somewhere familiar. Just inside the doorway, there is a small area to remove your shoes, along with cubbies lining the wall. As Satori enters, he sees a few pairs of shoes already inside and he slips his own off carefully and puts them in the staff section along the other side of the entryway. Haruna’s shoes are already in there. A pair of neat black flats, worn at the toes and creased just behind where the balls of her feet would be, tucked squarely into the left middle cubby. She stands on her tiptoes a lot. Akio’s shoes are also in the cubbies. He wears a pair of old white sneakers with soles so worn that they’re completely smooth in the center. 

His work shoes, the uniform ones meant for the kitchen and behind the bar, are just beyond the main room and around the corner. Satori enters the izakaya without a bow. He’s so accustomed to being here that he no longer does it and Haruna just tosses him a pointed look from where she’s rounding the corner to the staff area. 

“You’re late,” she comments. “Your shift started ten minutes ago.” 

Haruna has a pointed way of speaking. Her words are sharp on her tongue and almost nothing slips past her. 

“You keepin’ track of my punch card now, Runa?” Satori laughs, breezing past her to punch it in the old fashioned machine by the wall. It’s not even automatic. Satori has to physically push the stamp to make it work. 

“No, I’m keeping track of when I get to go home,” she scoffs. “We only have a thirty minute overlap today and I can’t leave if you’re not here.” 

“But I am here,” he teases. 

“You’re lucky Daisuke likes you so much,” Haruna scowls, scrunching her nose. 

Satori shrugs his shoulders and fastens his apron, walking behind the bar without a proper response. Haruna just shakes her head a little. 

She’s really not a bad person. Haruna is actually really enjoyable and Satori likes working with her, she’s just… particular about how she works. She doesn’t like working longer than she’s scheduled. It fucks up her mojo as she would put it. Satori finds it endearing, despite her being nearly six years older than him. 

Haruna actually works two jobs, one in a retail office and another here at the izakaya. Her other job is what the flats are for. He only ever sees her actual shoes on weekends. 

“What are you even doing here?” She says, coming to stand next to him behind the bar as she gathers small plates on a tray. “You don’t usually work Thursdays.” 

She’s right. Satori usually works on Sundays, Mondays, and Fridays. 

“Yasu called out, so I’m covering,” he states plainly. 

“Why are you doing that?” She pulls a face. 

Satori places a beer in front of a customer at the counter and then leans one hand on the bar. He lets his weight rest on his shoulder, causing it to rise to his ear as he tilts his head. 

“Are you not overjoyed to see me?” 

Haruna doesn’t dignify his tease with an answer and he clicks his tongue with mock-disappointment. 

“Needed a break,” he says. 

“So you came… to work?” She laughs, a plate topped with sprouts in her hand. “Yeah, right.” 

“Yeah,” he smirks, “I needed a break so I came to work. You gonna keep grilling me and wait for those bean sprouts to become full-blown mung beans or what?” 

“Smartass,” she mutters. 

Satori hums again and it’s not long before she’s back around the corner and serving a table on the far end of the izakaya. 

He falls quickly into a rhythm, calling back orders to Akio in the kitchen. Satori disappears a little when he works. It’s like he goes on autopilot. Satori doesn’t like rules, but when he goes into work by choice, especially when he feels he has a lot on his plate, he seems to appreciate the work flow a little more. Besides, his job is relatively relaxed. As long as Satori serves drinks and food, he’s golden. 

Of course, another one of his stress relief methods is photography. Pictures of the things he likes, beautiful things that some people find ugly or without taste. Usually sexual things—pornographic, as his classmates might say. In his second year, Satori did a photo series in his film photography course centered around a pomegranate. He only used one and he carved it up over the course of many days. He let the fruit bleed, nearly rot, and photographed it throughout the process. He liked the color of it, so red and inviting, and the photos seemed to give off the distinct tarte smell of the peel. His classmates said that it made them particularly uncomfortable and that the pomegranate, which was really just a fruit, no longer felt like something inanimate by the end of the photo series, but rather something alive—or something that was once alive. It’s a little abstract, but that’s exactly what Satori was going for. 

He can’t really take photos in this situation. Lately, you’ve been a bit of a muse to him. There are aspects of you he’d like to photograph and when Satori wants to photograph something, he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. He thought about that pomegranate for weeks. About the roundness of the juice-full seeds, the way they began to dry out and the ones that survived long enough to shine amongst the bunches of dried pulp. A small part of him regrets not eating it. 

Ideally, he’d like to disappear into the lens of his camera for a bit. Look at the world through the little window at the top of it and enjoy the December season behind glass. Maybe it was a bit of a hasty idea to make you the central point of his project for his self study class. After his conversation with Wakatoshi earlier this week, he’s afraid that the pictures will chronicle his marvelous, long overdue downfall. By the end of it, the photos will no longer be of your back from a few inches away, but rather of your face in a crowd of people he’s never met, surrounded on all sides and taken from feet away. He never wants to use a distance lens on you. He’d take your picture with a microscope if he could, if only to see the cellular composition of your skin. 

He’s deep in these thoughts when the inner paper door of the izakaya slides open with a thud and a raucous composition of three voices. His coworkers welcome them in, but Satori is so caught up in the thought of you and the pomegranate that he forgets, idly wiping at a glass in his hands and staring blankly at the shining, translucent rim. 

“Tendou?” A voice calls, baritone and confident. They sound almost surprised. 

He looks up from the class and is greeted with eager, gold eyes and thick expressive eyebrows. 

“Bokuto,” he says, his lips curling into a faux smile. So much for getting his mind off of things. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Well, we were in the area,” he laughs a little, motioning his head to the people who begin to seat themselves at the bar near him. 

There are two other people with him, a girl and a boy. The boy he recognizes as someone who usually hands around Bokuto, but he’s never seen the girl before. She’s got a mid-length, reddish-brown bob and calm eyes. She doesn’t look up as she peruses through the menu and Satori gets the distinct feeling that Haruna might like her. 

“You gonna drink, Akaashi?” Bokuto turns to his friend with a raised eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” he says, “If I get a beer are you gonna pressure me to drink four more afterwards?” 

“When have I ever done that?” Bokuto questions. 

“You do it every time we go out to drink,” the girl chimes in. “Why do you think you always have to beg him?” Then, she turns her attention to Satori. “Three beers and two orders of beef skewers, please.” 

“That’s so not true,” Bokuto responds indignantly. “But also, why end the party just ‘cause your glass is empty. Might as well get more.” 

“Here he goes,” the girl laughs. 

“Yukie, don’t just order for me,” Akaashi chides the girl for getting him a beer. 

“You know you’d have caved eventually,” she says calmly. “Let’s not go through all the back and forth this time. Bokuto’s a hard person to say no to.” 

“Hey, woah,” Bokuto turns to Akaashi and gives his friend a genuine look. “You never have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m just saying that I’ll be so crushed and sad and depressed if you cancel the order. That’s all.” 

Bokuto speaks earnestly, like he doesn’t realize how hypocritical he sounds as he talks and his friends chuckle pleasantly at his airheaded demeanor. It’s too late to cancel the order anyway. Satori eavesdrops on their conversation as he fills their glasses with the house beer. He’s already pouring the third. Akaashi is getting one whether he likes it or not. 

“Three beers,” Satori sets them down in front of each of them. “Skewers’ll be out in a second.” 

“Thanks man,” Bokuto says, pleased as he takes a sip of the amber liquid. “Drink up, Keiji.”

The grill is just behind the bar facing the guests. Since the izakaya is rather homestyle, Satori prepares and grills things like skewers directly in front of guests, though it’s not really for performance purposes. Right now, he wishes that Akio were in charge of cooking things like this. That way, Satori wouldn’t have to stand directly in front of Bokuto and his friends for all too long. No matter, he can deal with it. It’s not like he particularly dislikes Bokuto. 

“I thought you’d be with ____ tonight,” Bokuto says brightly as Satori places the first of the skewer sets on the grill. Akaashi gives him a somewhat mortified, sideways look. 

Satori smirks down at the grill and flips a skewer with one hand. His lips curl at the corners and he pleasantly takes in the idea that Bokuto had assumed you’d be with him. 

“What makes you think that?” He smiles, his words a little slimy. 

Bokuto shrugs his shoulders, leaning up to look at the meat on the grill. He doesn’t spare Satori a glance as he watches it. 

“Well, they’re usually with you no?” He says evenly. “Otherwise they’re with Yuki. Maybe Alice or Keiko. Oh, not this Yukie, though.” He jostles the girl’s shoulder and she lets out a huff of air as she struggles not to spill the drink held up to her mouth. 

Satori shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head briefly at the assumption that he wouldn’t have noticed that this Yukie is an entirely different person from the one he met at the party. Then, he gives Bokuto a slick grin and returns his attention to the meat on the grill, satisfied with Bokuto’s relief.  

“You know,” Bokuto starts, “I’m a little relieved they’re not with you right now. The idea was making me jealous.” 

Satori furrows his eyebrows and lets out a small laugh. Bokuto looks almost bashful, though not in an insecure way. Instead, the statement almost gives him an indiscernible look of unknowing confidence. Bokuto doesn’t have to worry about divulging this information to Satori because he doesn’t even view it as a competition. Neither does Satori really, but it irritates him that Bokuto is so nonchalant about his confidence. It’s almost like he’s sure that things will work out for him. Satori isn’t sure if that’s something with his personality or something that you told him, and the idea unsettles him. 

“Well, I’m here,” Satori says, plating two skewers of meat and starting on the next two. His eyes dart up to look at Bokuto over the tops of his cheeks, tone dipping slightly with the next part of his statement as his lips curl up in the corners. “And so are you. No harm, no foul.” 

Bokuto nods his head a little at the slight. He picks up on it, Satori can tell that much, but if it bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. The comment rolls off of Bokuto’s broad shoulders and he moves on to the next topic with an almost unintentional ease. Yukie glances up at Satori briefly, her expression closed and unreadable before she returns her gaze to Bokuto. 

Even the steam from the skewers gets caught up in Bokuto’s social pull. It floats towards him evenly, almost as if it’s drawn to the openness of his expression. Satori idly works on the second plate of them, turning the wooden skewers with his bare hands over a crosshatch grill. Bokuto’s voice carries and as Satori busies himself with the remaining order of skewers, he can see the way other patrons of the izakaya glance at where he sits at the bar. He passes the plate over the counter, setting it down in front of the group. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he offers before starting off to the other end to help a few other patrons. 

Satori briefly studies the sort of looks Bokuto receives, his eyes slinking across strangers’ expressions. Most of them, it seems, are admiring. They look at him as if there is something there to be desired, something they’d like to take for themselves or experience. Bokuto carries on with his loud conversation obliviously and Satori wonders if he truly doesn’t notice that people are looking at him or if he’s so accustomed to it that it no longer phases him. It’s likely the latter and Tendou furrows his eyebrows momentarily before setting down a glass of dark beer in front of an older patron. She thanks him with a practiced smile, curling her shoulders forward as she takes a sip.

“Hey!” Bokuto calls from across the bar. His voice rises above the conversation in the room and if the whole room weren’t already aware of his presence, they certainly were now. “C’mere for a sec.” 

Bokuto waves Satori over casually and he obliges, slinking over and leaning forward on the bar with a raised eyebrow. Bokuto raises his glass of beer to his lips with open posture, tilting his head up slightly and taking a large gulp. There’s not a hint of shyness in his movements. All of it is executed with an oblivious, admirable confidence. 

“Yes?” Satori questions, glancing at the half empty beer in front of him. “You wanna prematurely order another drink?” 

Bokuto swallows and sets his glass down, shaking his head and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Akaashi makes a face at him. 

“Nah,” he says, leaning forward a little. “I wanted to ask you something.” 

Tendou raises an eyebrow and Bokuto offers him a broad smile that feels too friendly for their relationship. It’s all teeth, surrounded by full and round lips. 

“You and _____,” he starts. Yukie sighs heavily and glances at Akaashi, who shrugs his shoulders in a defeated manner. “What’s going on there?’ 

Satori is caught off guard by the question, though he really shouldn’t be. Bokuto has proven time and time again to be so forward that it borders on stupid. 

“Why do you ask?” He grins lightly. 

Bokuto gives Satori a bashful look, running his hand down his face to cover the expression he wears. It does little to hide it and the gaps in his fingers and color of his cheeks betray a recklessly confident emotion that makes Satori wonder through what light Bokuto even sees him. 

“Ah, well, you know,” Bokuto says. “We’ve been talking.” 

Satori nods slowly, subconsciously chewing the skin on the inside of his cheek. What he wouldn’t give to be able to leave this conversation. 

“So?” Boktuo presses. 

Satori’s lips curl up in the corners, his expression twisting into something cat-like and aware. It’s not quite friendly, but Satori’s never had that sort of face. 

“We’re friends,” he offers. 

“Friends?” Bokuto says, perking up a little. “What kind?” 

“Good friends,” Satori says, sticking his tongue in his cheek so that it rests over a sharp canine. 

Bokuto nods, his body language opening up a little bit. Satori examines the way he moves, the confidence in the breath he lets out, as if the idea that Satori might be lying has never even crossed his mind. That, or it betrays the idea that Bokuto doesn’t even view Satori as being in the same playing field. Both are irritatingly casual and he rolls his head over his shoulders as if to rid himself of the tension. 

“So you don’t mind?” Bokuto adds, his words a little more measured. “If I ask them out?” 

Satori momentarily grits his teeth, raising an eyebrow as he returns Bokuto’s gaze. On either side of him, Akaashi and Yukie are suspiciously minding their own business. 

“Why would I mind?” Satori answers, hiding the way his stomach clenches unpleasantly. He greases up his words with a curled smile, as if the idea is amusing to him. 

Bokuto looks at him for a moment before setting both of his hands on the counter and leaning back with a wide grin. 

“That’s good,” Bokuto says, his tone returning to the light and somewhat airheaded tone he usually maintains. “Probably would have made things awkward if you did when we start goin’ out.” 

Bokuto says this with his head angled down, picking up a skewer and taking a bite out of it. 

“Oh, this is good,” he says to Akaashi, putting the skewer in front of his face. “Try it.” 

Satori comes to the quick realization that Bokuto hadn’t been asking for permission. He’d been letting Satori know that he’ll be asking you out. It wasn’t a question of if he can, but rather a warning that it will happen regardless of what Satori wants. The arrogance of it makes his skin crawl. 

There’s a confidence about Bokuto when he talks about you. Something intrinsic within his person. A haughty, unabashed confidence that things will just work out for him, so much so that he hardly seems to notice when he says something arrogant. Even worse, his arrogance comes across as justified.

It’s rare that people genuinely get on Satori’s nerves, but Bokuto does. Bokuto grates on him like sandpaper and Satori can’t help but click his jaw as he turns around and returns to his duties. There’s something in the way he talks about you, as if you’ve already handed yourself over to him, that makes Satori feel uneasy. It would be unfair to say that you’re Satori’s. After all, it’s just sex, but he can’t help but feel some sort of possessiveness over you. You’re not just a fuck buddy either, you’re a friend, someone he connects with on a very real level. To have Bokuto reduce the relationship between the two of you to something as definable as “minding” provokes him. 

Of course, this sort of thing is likely inevitable. It’s not like Satori plans to put any sort of ring on your finger. Shit, he doesn’t even intend to put any sort of label on it. For Satori, this is fun. It’s fun he’s not exactly eager to give up. It’s his. This discomfort, however, toes the line and he can feel the way the urge to just let go creeps up on him. Satori’s never been all that much of a fighter, even when it comes to the things he adores. Boredom follows displeasure quite quickly with him. 

Bokuto and his friends linger for the larger portion of his shift, chatting idly. Like Yukie said, Bokuto pressures Akaashi into quite a few more drinks and by the time they leave, the two boys’ figures are swaying as if thrown softly off their axis, pushed and pulled by imaginary breezes. They settle their tab with cash on the counter and clamor out with a final wave. Yukie, the soberest of the group, stops in the doorway to give Satori a look that he can only interpret as apologetic. The sort of look you give someone who has started a losing battle. 

He laughs to himself at it, lowering his gaze as he clears away their plates and wipes down the counter. None of them even know the half of it. Not the way you whisper to him, the way you look at him, the curve of your body in his camera lens. What do they know about the two of you? 

—- 

The air outside is cold when Satori steps out of the izakaya and shuts the sliding door behind him. It makes his cheeks and nose feel like they’re being pinched and as he exhales, he can see the billow of clouded breath that leaves his open mouth. The street is calm in the way city streets get on weekdays in the late evening and the streetlamps create a familiar glow across the black pavement. He pulls his phone out of his coat pocket, studying for a moment the way his knuckles redden in the cold. 

Satori: Saw your boyfriend today. 

You: Not my boyfriend. 

Satori grins at your message, exhaling through his nose and shaking his head. He’s unable to hide his pleasure at the quickness of your response. 

You: Where? 

That’s a little less funny. 

Satori: Work.

You: I thought you didn’t work today? 

Satori: Someone called out. 

You: Sucks lol 

Satori tucks the device and his hands away in his coat pockets after liking the message, stepping further out into the street and starting off in the direction of his apartment. He focuses on his breathing, distracted by the way his breath comes in clouds that he leaves behind. His cheeks burn and his lips are chapped from the delicate nip of the cold. A thin layer of snow tucks itself away at the edge of the street, fading out into puddles on the road. 

Some part of Satori regrets the answer he’d given Bokuto. So noncommittal and careless. He’s never been one to give the whole truth, but it’s obvious to anyone that the two of you are fucking. Even his photography class knows it. 

For some reason, it makes Satori feel worse that Bokuto didn’t even squirm. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that maybe he’d lose. What Bokuto would be losing, he isn’t sure, but he knows that it never even crossed the other man’s mind. 

Satori hates losing. He’ll stop competing if it means he doesn’t have to admit that he did. He’d rather not play at all than get burned doing it. Even when he played volleyball, he’d been noncommittal. When his team lost in his final year of high school, he’d let it roll off of his shoulders because it was just for fun anyway, the thrill of the game. What’s fun about a game where he loses? Or worse, a game that he wasn’t even considered to compete in in the first place but thought he’d been playing all along. Yukie had given him a look like that, like he was only on the team to be kept from being left out. Satori likes high stakes, but he’ll take the bets he knows he can win.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he gets back to his apartment, vibrating quietly in his pocket when he slides the key into his lock.

You sent an image 

You: How about something like this for your photography project? 

It’s a dimly lit photo of your legs, cut off just before the apex of your thighs where they meet your center. One knee is bent, leaning against the other outstretched leg, and in the mirror across from you he can just barely make out where your bare ass rests on your duvet cover, shadow hiding the place on you he most wants to see. He stares momentarily at the photo, feeling the way blood rushes to his lower half. 

Satori: I’d rather keep something like this for myself. 

You: Good, that’s who it’s meant for. 

[oddballwriter]

Dwelling in the Night

Series Masterlist

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: There's a new vigilante figure out on the streets at night. And there's also a new neighbor on the same floor as Steven and the rest of the boys.  

Warnings: Mentions of blood, dead bodies, crime, all that. Reader is a vampire so it's implied that they consume blood and all that. Also, Y/N kills, but the act is never actually written or depicted. Steven being dumb and clueless for reasons of the plot. This is mostly Steven-centric and Marc-centric but Jake's here too but doesn't really do anything for the plot other than simply have some lines that progress the plot. Gender-neutral reader with they/them being used for them. Heads up, it does get a bit confusing in one part but I think it's fine.  

Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting and it's currently 1:30 am. Honestly, anything to stall my studying for an exam for one of my classes. I wrote this fucking unit of a shot involving my love for vampire Y/N's just to do it.

Notes: Please appreciate vampire reader. We need more of that in the x reader community. I as a reader would love for that to happen more often. Thank you.

Word count: 2,600~

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

The system took pride in their patrolling. Even if it was still doing work for Khonshu, they were still free in what they did when coming across a criminal rather than being yapped at. It brought a sort of satisfaction of taking, or at least scaring, another threat off the street. But things were getting weird, and slightly disturbing.

Criminals had started to drop like flies with a theme of them being found in dark alleys with bitten throats, but there was never any blood to be found that made sense with their wounds. Just their pale corpses with looks of fear or shock in their glazed-over eyes.

Jake admired the simple tactic of scaring off would be scum by the fear of being the next person in the obituaries, but he had to admit that the method of doing that was unsettling. He just killed them and let whoever came across the scene be shucked with cleaning the mess.

Marc worried that this other party wasn't actually someone necessarily on "the right side" and this was an actual threat to the public that just so happened to have a streak going with having their victims coincidentally being criminals.

It wasn't until they came across two cases that proved that worry otherwise.

The first was a girl they found running around the alleys in a panic. When they went to her and asked if she was okay, she was babbling about something in her panting. "There was this guy! He dragged me into the alleys, he held up a knife to me and was threatening me!" she explained pointing in the general direction, but she kept talking "But this... in the shadows, there were these two glowing lights, like eyes! And this person came out from there and grabbed them." she said. "I just ran off I didn't know where to go! They were blocking off the way to the street." she exclaimed.

It was actually Steven who was fronting then. He helped her calm down and led her out of the alley system and back in to get the perp and maybe help whoever got him away from the poor woman. But when he found the guy, he was like all the others he and the system had heard about.

Dead with a bitten throat, fear on their face, and hardly any blood in the pool for it to make sense.

The second was with Marc himself. He dropped in on a duo of muggers who cornered a young man, getting a left hook in on one of them. But his buddy ran off into the dark and dank alleys to get away. Marc needed to do a few more punches to get the first down and out before chasing after the second, but he swore he could've seen a figure follow after them in the corner of his vision.

He heard the sound of what must have been the guy's scream as soon as Marc moved on.

But when Marc got there, he was already on the wet brick floor writhing and grabbing at his neck. He saw them. A figure in the shadows where the backlights couldn't reach to show them in all say for a silhouette, had ducked into another alley. "Hey!" Marc called to them before chasing after them. But when he turned the corner, they were gone, only seeing a complete dead end.

When Marc came back to the guy, he found him trying to breathe through a gargled, and bitten, throat. He tried his best to help the guy since he was still alive. Unfortunately, bites to the jugular weren't kind injuries to those who are dealt them.

🩸🩸🩸

"I don't understand," Steven mutters as Marc slides back into their flat after patrolling and finding a few more crooks who came across this other person. "Why the injuries to the neck? And how is there hardly any blood?" he questions, "There's nowhere for it to go. There's nowhere for them to go. They just come out of nowhere and pick these blokes off and leave in such a short moment.".

"I don't know. And I don't think I want to know. This freak's keeping the load easier for us by doing whatever they're doing with these guys." Marc says, emphasizing the word 'freak'. "Hey, watch who you're calling a freak, amigo. We aren't exactly normal either." Jake says, mostly joking. "Yeah, sure. But we're not the one who's having our guys come up without a drop of blood left in them." Marc defends.

A crash is heard from nearby, in the flat next door.

"The hell's going on over there?" Marc muttered to himself as a reaction to the sound, but Steven said a name almost instantly.

"Who?" Marc asked.

"It's Y/N. They're our neighbor. They moved in a few months ago." Steven answered. "I've never heard of them." Marc comments before Steven quips back with "That's because you two hardly meet anybody.".

"Give me the body for a bit. I want to check on them. That sounded like something big fell over." Steven requests. Marc shrugs and switches out after briefly instructing "Put the body to sleep when you're done.".

Steven un-summons the suit, steps out into the hallway, steps towards your door, and knocks. After a beat, the door opens enough to have your head pop through, but not enough to show the rest of your flat like a fully opened door would. Which he didn't really mind, you always did this whenever he or anyone would knock. "Hello." Steven greets you with a little smile.

You look worried at seeing him in front of you. "I heard a pretty loud noise come from your flat. Is everything okay?" Steven asked. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I knocked over a shelf." you answer. Steven is shocked for a bit, "A shelf? My word. Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lift it back up?" Steven stresses as he moves to the side to peak into your flat to see how bad the damage is. But you quickly pull back in and tighten the width of the open door to a sliver , making him unable to see the inside with a "No!".

He pulls away, startled at the sudden reaction.

You open the door back up to step out again. "I'm sorry about that." you timidly apologize. "It's fine. I can pick it back up on my own. Thank you for offering to help and for your concern." you say. "There's some blood on your hand." Steven notices. You pull your hand behind your back at the realization. "It's fine. I'll clean it up myself." you blurt out as you go back into your flat with a quick "Good night, Steven." before closing and re-locking the door behind you, all before he can properly react.

"Good night?" Steven repeats back in confusion.

"That was weird." Marc comments, exposing that he had watched the whole thing go down. "Yeah. They... are a bit strange. They don't really come out most of the day." Steven explains. "Why were they up this late?" Jake buds in, having seen it all too. "It's nearly four in the morning and they look wide awake and aren't in any pajamas." Jake adds.

The next time Steven saw you, you were bringing a huge box into your apartment a few days after that night.

"Need help?" he asked. "Sure. It's actually really hard to drag around." you admit. As he picked up the other end of the large, and heavy, box and walked with your pace into your flat you spoke. "I'm sorry about the noise and acting weird a few nights ago. I was just embarrassed from having woken you up." you explain. Steven gently huffs, "No need to apologize. I wasn't asleep anyways. I was pulling an all-nighter like you were." Steven reassures. You look at him for a moment, "Oh right. Yeah. I do that a lot. I do better with work at night." you remark.

You two manage to get the box past some things it would have bumped, into and into the space between the space of your bedroom and living room. That's when he sees that there's no bed there in your bedroom area, glancing at the box to see a depiction of a bed frame.

"Changing furniture?" Steven asks. "Yeah. I already sold my old one." you say. Steven quarks a brow, "When? Have you had to sleep on your sofa-?" he asks as he turns towards your living room area before interrupting himself with a "Woah!".

There in the area, where a coffee table should be, was an authentic-looking coffin. "Quite the decor there." Steven comments with a breathy little chuckle. "Yeah. I like the look it had." you claim.

Looking around your flat for the first time, Steven could see it. It wasn't exactly goth per se, but there was a weirdly somber and antique look to your decor. It had that same attic look that Steven's did, but you had an attic feel of that of an abandoned house that was left for the dust bunnies to call home. Almost haunted house-esk with the draw curtains adding to it all.

"Is someone in there?" Steven jokes, mostly to himself. "No." you stutter out, "But it does still open." you mention as you walk towards it to show him by lifting the lid.

And, wow. It was real. It still had the pale pink padding and even the pillow inside of it, still pristine as ever, ignoring a couple of scratches on the outside wood.

"Impressive. How'd you even get your hands on this?" Steven asked. You thought for a moment, most likely trying to recall the answer to that question. "Some funeral places have spares that never got sold. So they sell them for a much cheaper price." you say.

Steven nodded as he took another look at the coffin.

"Well, it really is a nice touch." Steven complimented. "Thank you." you reply with a sigh.

🩸🩸🩸

Again.

And again.

One alley crawler dead and paled out after another.

Finding the bodies seemed to become a normal accordance for the boys when they were out doing their rounds around the city. Whoever this was at least started to lean the bodies against the wall after doing the deed now so that there wasn't just some corpse in the middle of the alley's street.

He was still finding the people this person 'saved' too. With them saying the same thing each time. Talking about a person in the shadows with a pair of glowing eyes being the only visible thing about them and then having gotten whatever criminal tried their luck yanked away into the said shadows with a scream echoing as the victim ran to safety.

They never see the actual person though. They don't seem to wear a costume like they do. No mask. No suit. Their only identity keeper they have being that of the shadows that exist beyond any light sources. The only sign of it being them is just the animal-like glow of their eyes. And one brutal calling card for those who came to see where they were.

Tonight was different.

Marc heard the sound of gunshots and rushed to the scene. But he found someone running for their life trying to leave already. He grabs a hold of them, thinking it was a person escaping a forceful mugging till they tried to aim a gun at him. Thankfully, he manages to subdue them.

"That thing tried to get me!" they shouted frantically as they attempted to get loose. "You gotta let me go, man. I don't want to be another body found around here." they beg.

"They tried robbing someone." a voice rings through.

Marc, and also the person he was holding down, looked towards where it came from. He notices the eyes first, with their white pearly glow surrounded by the rest of their shadowy form. The eyes almost looked like the system when they wore their suits, though it was dimmer, just enough to pierce through the darkness, and looked more like the glow was coming from the irises than the whole eye.

"I stopped them before they could pounce. This one was holding more firepower than most. I didn't want to have to risk it." the voice spoke again.

It felt a little haunting. The glow was almost disarming somehow, and their voice was calm and collected as it naturally echoed through the walls of the buildings, and sounding almost familiar. Marc stood there just staring at them till the person he was holding started thrashing harder in his hold, "Let me go, that thing's going to fucking kill me! I swear to god!" they pleaded.

"You're in his court now. You aren't my issue anymore." the silhouette says looking towards the person from where they were before looking back up at Marc.

"Sorry about me leaving my actual catches around." the silhouette apologizes. "I have nowhere to put them." they add as an explanation.

"Why kill them?" Marc questioned, speaking before really thinking. "You kill some of yours don't you, Moonknight? I don't see why you're judging me." the silhouette remarks. "I meant in the way that you do. I just kill them and leave them. You do... something to them." Marc speaks, hesitating for a second at the latter end.

The silhouette stays silent for a second seemingly striking their eyebrow from the way their eyes move. "I have reasons to do it that you probably wouldn't like to hear." they say. "We're doing the same work either way. My method is just more intense than yours tends to be." they comment before slipping back and disappearing into the shadows.

Marc calls out a "Wait!" but gets nothing in return.

He's just left alone with a scared shitless would-have-been mugger and more questions.

🩸🩸🩸

"Hey!" Steven calls out as he does a brief jog over to you in the hallway. "About time I catch you out in the day." Steven jokes. "Oh. Hello, Steven. Yeah. I needed to run some errands." you say, giving an explanation for the rare occurrence. "Good thing you've come back. It's been overcast all day and would rain at any minute." Steven comments.

"Anyways. I knocked on your door yesterday but you didn't come to the door at all." Steven mentions. "Oh. Really? I'm sorry. I'm usually asleep in the day because of my all-nighters." you claim.

"Really? You've got to be the hardest sleeper then. You're like the dead in there. I knocked hard for a while." Steven explains. "So I've been told." you nervously laugh. "You must be real tired if you usually sleep in the day then," he comments. "Yeah. But I have to deal with it." you say.

"What did you need?" you ask.

"Oh. Nothing from me. I was told to tell you, by the landlord, that there would be a check of the fire alarm system next week and that some might go off." Steven explains. "They tried to knock on your door the day before I knocked, but I guess you were asleep." Steven says. "Yeah. I probably was." you reply, "I'll send them an e-mail or something telling them about my sleep schedule." you mutter to yourself.

"Well, nice running into you. Go get yourself some rest." Steven says as he bids you goodbye by patting your shoulder. "Be sure to wrap yourself in something warm too. You're a bit cold." he adds.

[ashen-char]

together pt.2/?

ship: river (all souls) x gender neutral reader

warnings: none

summary: you and river discuss what it'd take for her to move in with you.

word count: 1400+

pt. 1 is here!

After pitching in financially for the past month, River's place does feel a lot more homey. There's things you can't change - like the sterile-looking white paint that covers every corner, or the shitty cabinets that you had tried but failed to fix.

You wasted a day trying, painstakingly replacing the hinges, but the very next day had opened the cabinets too wide that you couldn't close them again. River had laughed so pretty at your plight that the anger escaped your body, so the shitty cabinets remained.

Luckily, her apartment already had curtain rods installed so you didn't have to ask her landlord's permission to do so. Two weeks ago, you had this Top Secret (TM) plan with Jade that she would distract her mom all day at the park.

River had a tough week at work and you wanted to do something nice for her, so you thought of surprising her with curtains that could help keep the heat in. That night, River told you that Jade ratted you out pretty quickly, never one to lie to her mama.

"But you're sweet, so I let you do it," River said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Thank you, baby."

There's a bigger dining table now, with a chair for you so that you could stay and have meals with your girls more often. But the best change over the past month, your favourite home improvement has to be-

You stretch out your arms, glad for another good night's sleep without a wayward spring attacking your back. River groans as she's jostled, cuddling back into you. "Don't move," she hisses, "good pillows don't move."

"Alright, alright," you chuckle. Wrapping your arms back around your girlfriend, you're content to lay back and enjoy the early morning.

Now, you're fully aware that a pull-out sofa bed is in no way as good as a regular bed. The mattress is thin, and the springs make a lot of noise when you two are trying to have fun without waking Jade up from the other room. But after spending so long sleeping on a sofa River had carried in from the side of the road, you've learned to take your wins when you can.

As much as you've been enjoying improving River's place so she and Jade can have a better home... you miss your bed. River has been to your place a few times, usually to mess around after a date, but could never sleep over. Jade couldn't be left alone at home and River didn't like leaving her with a friend overnight. So besides a quick tumble or a nap, your queen-sized back at home wasn't seeing much use.

"Have you ever thought about moving in with me?" you can't help but ask.

You've wondered it once or twice. You get why it's not that simple, of course. You know this place holds a lot of memories for River, both good and bad. She's friends with her neighbours, and the Oasis is a pretty tight-knit community. Jade's school and River's work is walking distance, which is amazing since the young mom doesn't have a car. Not to mention that she couldn't afford to break her lease. You know all that. You just wonder if she's taking this 'together' thing like you are, wonder why she's never asked.

River pauses before replying. "I have thought about it," she admits. "But I dunno."

River tells you that she does like your place, though she never has the luxury to stay over. She liked watching movies on your bigger TV. She liked sitting at your kitchen island as you cooked for her. She liked the slight mess that you never worried about cleaning because you would go to her place right after.

You remember how River would slip from bed, only a thin sheet covering her, picking up the trinkets you had strewn about, teasing you that they're "so you". At that, River frowns. "You don't really have anything here, huh?" she asks.

You shrug. What else did you need but her? Just a change of clothes, a toothbrush. A few times you had left your keys and phone, but that was by accident.

"I guess not. I don't really need my things when I'm here," you say.

Being with River or taking care of Jade together didn't leave much time for wishing you had your console. And besides, you both knew there wasn't room for your things in this tiny apartment.

A bit of silence falls over you two. River holds you tighter.

"When I said I wanted this place to feel more like home, I meant your home too," she tells you, a whisper against your collarbone. "I'm sorry that there's not much space for you."

River sounds guilty. You hate that. She's already been trying so hard to include you, with adding chairs to her table, with letting you help with Jade. You know it hasn't been easy. She's been independent for so long, and proud of it for a reason. Even letting you pitch in financially was a big show of trust.

"It's fine. Promise," you tell her.

You lean down to press a kiss to River's forehead. It's one of those cutesy bits of affection that she swears she hates, that she's too tough for, but you know she loves. So you do it often, kissing around her face now. She laughs and tries to push you away, "it's not! You're being too nice to me again!"

A final kiss, to her chin now. River looks up at you with a vulnerability you know that no one else gets to see. To Jade, she had to be the protective yet fun-loving mama bear, someone to always look up to, someone Jade could depend on. To her friends, River was outgoing, always cracking quick-witted (and often dirty) jokes. Only you got to see her big brown eyes like this.

Afraid.

"I like when you're around," she tells you softly. "Things are easier. Jade's happier." River tilts her head, leaning on your chest as she melts against your frame. "I'm happier."

Affection blooms in your chest. "I know." And you think you know what she's trying to say. River wants you around even more. Wants to take that next step.

She's silent for a bit, and you two just lay there. Her hair falls into her face, and you push the strands back behind her ear. "You'd have to turn your spare room into Jade's room."

It's like she's trying to talk you out of it. Too bad. You'd do anything for that kid. "I know." 

"She's got a shit ton of toys. And she makes a lot of mess. You'll have to move your desk. And your bookcase."

"Done and done."

River was afraid of depending on you. Even if she knew you wouldn't, the threat of you suddenly being gone and going right back to nothing was terrifying. But more than that, she was afraid of this being it. And if this was the logical next step for the both of you - the way you'll finally finally be making your home together then that's just what she'll do.

"And I ain't a freeloader," River says. "I'll pay rent. Not the full rent but like, half or a third or something like that, got it?"

You can't help the smile playing at your lips. Even when she's talking about moving in with you, River's adamant about not taking any handouts outs. "I wouldn't expect anything else," you say.

River exhales. You relax as best as you can, supporting the young mom as she turns in your arms. "When the lease is up, we can talk about it some more."

She's adorable. She hates being called that, thinks that people are looking down at her when they say it, so you stop yourself from saying it out loud. The thought of waking up next to River in a bed you share sounds like a dream. Jade would get her own room for the first time. You wouldn't have to leave first thing in the morning to get dressed - you could just lay there, enjoying the feel of River beside you.

This apartment has been amazing. The curtains, the chairs, the new sofa-bed, it's made everything feel more homey. But it's now when you realise that home is being with her. Home isn't a place, but more about how badly you want to be together. To make it together.

Mindlessly, River traces shapes against your chest and you let yourself fall asleep again in her cozy embrace.

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: You decided to spent your deserved vacation on a village on the coast of Italy, but you didn't expected to fall in love with the lodge owner son.

PAIRING: Italian¡Leon x older F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 6.019k

WARNINGS: Age gap of 9 years (Reader is 31 and Leon is 22), older reader. Poorly translated italian, fluffy, romance, shy¡Leon, son of a lodge owner¡Leon. Suggestive, suggestion of jerking off, description of arousal ect

NOTES: i spent one week on this one, actually smashing my head to write all that i wanted. And it's not everything yet, so if you guys like, i may do a second part.

I live in a city builded with Italians, so there's a lot of the Italian culture around here, there's some things that i can assure that is true, but i do NOT speak Italian, i only know a few words and things about the cultures with the descendants i talked with.

Highly inspired by this bot right here || There's a playlist that's not mine who's very good with the vibes of this fic, so listen to it while reading if you like.

You needed a rest. Not only mentally, but physically too. Months after months of hard work made your whole body sore, your wrists were a tad red and irritated because of the paperwork you do all day at your job. Sitting down all day wasn’t helping your stance too, you felt like an old lady everytime you’re home, grumbling about pain all over your back, but couldn’t do anything to ease it. For days now, you felt like a deadpan, nothing could cheer up your mood, not even going out with some friend to relieve the stress. In fact, when you tried to do that, you slept on the table of the bar you came with your friends, after a few sips on a beer. The dizziness spoke louder than your conscious, and without noticing, your elbows were hiding your face as you snored softly. Your friends, Jill and Claire, had to carry you back to your house. Not even a bit of enjoyment from your part in that day. Thank goodness you had your friends around to take care of you, your mood was shitty these days, and even with that, they tried to light it up. At least, they tried, and you’re happy to see that the two girls truly care about you.

Even now, you can’t escape your job, you’re talking about that miserable thing that was burying you deeply into a bad state of grumpiness with Jill, late at night laying in your bed with your short pajamas, even when you know that you need to wake up early next morning. All tucked in your blankets because the cold came without a warning a few days ago into your town, it was making you shiver, and you never missed the sun so badly. It’s like your job is the cause of everything that’s falling apart in your life, and even if it truly is, you can’t stop making your life circle around this, not when you spend so much time there. With your phone in hands, you groaned about your work for her, receiving a answer next;

“You need to take some vacation.” Her voice mumbled to you, all you could hear was the water flowing from her sink as she was doing her night routine of skincare that she often does.

“First of all, to where? Second of all..when? And third of all…why?”

“You have to decide this. But I think that a vacation would be great for you.”

“You’re telling me like…going alone?”

“Yeah, some time for yourself, maybe you’re needing this and don't even know.” Jill shrugs, her face almost glued to her phone on her shoulders. She always has that monotone tone of voice in most of the things she says, even if she worries about you and doesn't explicitly say it.

“I can…I can try to figure this out.”

“Think of it, it will be just fine, no worries. I actually thought about a place you could go.” You shift in your bed, your back against the headboard as you whine in pain. “Where?”

“Italy. I heard about a little village on the coast that has gorgeous things to see there.”

“Italy? Hm, I don't know, Jill. It’s pretty far.”

“Search about Atrani, it will make up your mind.” You heard a sound of Jill munching on something, probably her protein bars that she absolutely loves. Her voice becomes muffled, and you can already visualize her cheeks full as she eats.

“Atrani? Yeah, I'll at least search about it.” She hummed happily with your reply. “That’s good, do something for yourself.”

“I will, thank you for the recommendation.” She only giggled on the other side of the phone.You hear as she stops munching, with her tone more low.

“Don’t mention it. Girl, I’ll have to go now, see ya and take care.”

“See you!” The phone vibrates with a soft beep. Jill is certainly the mother of the group, making sure that everyone was safe and good. She’s the type that advises you and Claire of the cold, remembering to carry a coat, and if not, she always has some meds for anything in her bag. That took a soft chuckle out of you, knowing that she will always care for you and Claire. And you exhale softly when the silence consumes you, alone in your bedroom again.

The idea was not bad, actually. But you’re not the type that go on trips often, and in fact, you never did one alone. The fear of everything going wrong was eating you up. But you decided to at least give it a try. Taking up Jill’s recommendation, you searched up for the place, it was absolutely breath-taking, you could already imagine yourself there, on the sea with a pretty bikini, just enjoying a new culture and everything Italy could offer to you. You heard about Italian cooking, that a lot of people talked about, seems like that rich country was ready to take you in and show their deepest graceful things. Happily, you knew a tad of Italian, this could really help on the trip, and if you needed, there is a translator for you to use for free on the internet. Nothing could go wrong, only if a curse was put into you or something like that. Or you hoped that everything would go as planned.

That night, you slept like a baby, fantasizing about this trip and growing more and more excited. That happiness about a trip you didn’t even started to plan yet. By the morning, your ears were welcomed not so happily as your dreams, by your loud ringtone, awakening you from that dreamland you were in. With a distressing pain in your back, you got up, whining around the house while slowly getting back to your harsh reality. You really thought about that vacation, and your irritated body ached for your paradise to come true. But first, you needed to ask your boss for a lay-off, with at least two months so you could really enjoy every single bit. While getting ready for the job, you spent long minutes thinking about how you could ask your boss for some vacation so easily.

Walking on the hallways, your high heels clicked on the floor, damn this company for forcing the women to use a high heel, this could only make your heels sore and you would probably get worse with the time passing by. The tight black pencil skirts around your thighs were bothering you as well, you could feel one thigh against each other, making it difficult to walk properly. You sigh, letting your head fall in front of you as you knock on your boss's office, his deep voice answering immediately for you to come in.

You were not dumb, you knew how much of a good employee you were, there is no reason for him not to give you the privilege of a vacation, and if he didn't do so…you would resign yourself and worry about that after the vacation. Thank you that you know how to manage your money, always having an emergency fund if that’s needed.

“Sir, I need to ask you something.” You opened the door while mumbling, stepping inside and already going straight to the point. You saw your boss sitting on his chair, an expensive suit around his body and a tie not well tied, as if he doesn’t know how to do it alone. Even for a boss, sometimes he could be just a pathetic old man.

“You can ask me anything, you know this.” He replied, his eyes facing yours, his elbows on the table and his fingers crossed. Another thing that was facing you was his hairless head shining under the white light.

“I was thinking about getting a lay-off, for…some two months at least.”

“Uhm…i understand your situation.” He lays back on his chair, with a sigh, “You’re not the first to ask this in this company. But that’s okay, I'll make it up to you, only because you deserve it.”

Great, you’re not the only one exhausted with your job, and happily, he understood your need. The corners of your lips curl up into a smile, a sincere one, you thanked him, almost eagerly. And you were jumping happily back at home at the end of your shift, people thinking you were crazy on your way back. That night, you couldn’t sleep so early, since you spent the whole night planning the vacation, every little detail was important to avoid bad situations. The whole night, you had only the bright light of your phone lighting up your bedroom. You started to note some things, making some calculations on how much money you would need, how much time you were going to spend, and most of all, you noticed that you needed a place to stay there. You started to search for one who’s close to the places you want to visit. Not too late after, you found a perfect lodge, one called ‘S.K’ for some reason. It had everything you needed and more, even a spa for relaxing the pains all over your body. Most of all, it was a delightful place from the photos you saw. Space was not a problem you were going to have there too.

Without a time to think, you made a reservation, bought your tickets and made sure to fit all on a schedule. You spend the whole night doing this, making sure that would go just fine.

The next day, you told Claire and Jill, who was even more excited than you for this deserved rest you’re going to get. The two vibrated with the news and you three were dreaming about it, imagining everything that could happen there.

When you came into Italy, even the air felt different, a good sensation forming on your chest as you could finally rest a little bit. The flight was good enough for you to sleep almost all the way there, and finally hearing the pilot with that bad radio saying “Passengers, we’re finally on italian lands” gave you chills, in a good way. The flight was okay and nothing to worry about until now. The temperature there was pretty different from your city when you left. It was warm, with a pleasant cool breeze lifting your hair up and making you feel like those silly foreigners laughing and taking pictures of everything they see.

Your humor lights up slowly as you take an uber to the lodge you made a reservation for. You noticed a lot of orchards around the city, and a big crystal clear sea next to the lodge where you're going to spend your vacations. There were a lot of kids on the streets, running with their hair free to nature, it made you giggle at the sight of the car window. The smell here is way different too, some places smell like fruits, others smell like great food, you could hear your stomach rumble in wanting that home made cooking, made from the "nonne's" (grandmas) of the village. Surely, the food is going to be the first thing you’re searching for here.

When you came to your destination, a pleasant building made your eyes shine. ‘S.K’ were written on top of it, a gold material around the circled logo, the pedestrians going in and out showed how popular the place was, the whole place was involved with brown colors that gave you a cozy feeling when you looked at it. Just as the photos you saw, everything looked like a dream coming true. You opened the car door, gave the money to the driver and stepped out to feel some eyes towards you, was it obvious that you’re a foreign? Maybe it's the way you stare at the entrance that makes it obvious, you're standing there for a few minutes now, just shocked by that charming lodge.

The big doors opened with your hand, almost felt like a tight hug when you felt the bliss of the place. Some flowers on the corners made the air easier to breathe, and you had bug eyes looking everywhere to catch the details. You noticed a few old family photos, even some in black and white or in an orange tone, it seems like this lodge is more old than you thought. With the bag in hand, you made your way to the counter, finding a cute old couple smiling and waving at you. You cleared your throat, trying your best at speaking Italian, hoping it would go as you rehearsed.

—"Buon pomeriggio, ho prenotato qui qualche giorno fa"

*(Good afternoon, I made my reservation here a few days ago)

—"Oh certo. Come ti chiami, signorina?" First, the old lady spoke, her voice being a good way to welcome you. It even lightened up your mood even more.

*(Oh, sure. What's your name, miss?)

After all the pleasantries and information you needed to say, the old man smiled at you, handing a pair of keys into your hands when everything was done. You only needed the translator's help a few times, it was an improvement.

—"C'è qualcuno che parla inglese qui per aiutarmi?" You mumbled embarrassed, scratching your nape. The old man nodded, with a bright smile.

*(Is there someone who speaks English here to help me?)

—"Mio figlio" He then called someone out, someone who came dashing, you heard rushed footsteps on the hallways when a young boy made his way at you and his family, his forehead a bit sweaty and his big puppy eyes catching into yours.

*(My son)

When you thought about Italy, you didn’t expect this, not an attractive son of the lodge owner, no. He lifted his face to meet yours, his hands resting on his knees because of the running he came in. He adjusts his stance in a silly way, making his chest come first than his legs on his walk.

—"La signora ha bisogno di aiuto con la lingua." You couldn't quite understand what the woman said, but she pointed at you, your cheeks turning crimson as you couldn’t take your eyes off of that boy.

The young man nodded with his head, his lips turning into a thin line with the same embarrassment as you. He had a hard time describing blonde, it's a dark one but it has blonde nonetheless. His nose shape was the same as the woman on the counter, which you assumed to be his mother. His cheeks were plumped, which made him look so innocent and cute that you felt your heart almost exploding. He was a show of cute features, those cat-like baby blue eyes looking at you like you were something extraordinary to him. That’s when you hear his voice for the first time, the honey tone he carries as he fidgets with his fingers.

—"I can help you. You're not from Italy, right?"

—"Oof, thank goodness!" You let a heavy exhale escape, the hand with the keys pressing against your chest to show your relief. And he noticed the movement, looking at it before gulping down loudly. —"I'm not from here, yeah. Can you help me out?"

—”O-Of course, what do you need, ma’am?”

Most of all, he had that slight Italian accent while speaking English, which you didn’t mind, because the way he’s trying his best makes your heart flutter, even if he rolls his ‘r’s’ a lot more, you find this endearing about this young man. He even had the respect of calling you “ma’am”, maybe because you seem older than him, or just because he’s a gentleman. His parents looked confused as you two started to talk in another language, but with a shrug, they said a warm ‘welcome’ to you. The man looked at the young boy, giving a look that tells him something, almost scolding him for something, he straightens up before saying his name to you.

—”Sorry, my name is Leon, by the way. Leon S. Kennedy.” He offered his hand to a soft handshake, that you didn’t see why not. And quickly, you understood why the lodge is called ‘S.K’. When you told him your name, he smiled with that appealing face of his. —”Let me help you with the bags.”

Without any chance to reply, he takes the heavy bag from your hands, carrying it as if it had feathers on it. You giggled with that, he’s just trying to help, but looks adorable nonetheless.

—”Thank you, can you show me where the 215 room are?”

—”Sure, just follow me ma'am.” You could swear that you would never get tired of listening to his voice, or see his boyish acts and manners.

Remembering what Jill said, your face lights up; “Italy. I heard about a little village on the coast that has gorgeous things to see there.” You had to agree now that you know Leon. You’re known for falling in love easily, so telling this to Jill and Claire would not be a surprise. But you’re not in love with the lodge owner's son in a small village of Italy, you just think he’s lovely, just that. While following him, you noticed that even if you’re older than him, he’s taller than you. Using a tight shirt and baggy jeans, you walked behind him. He's not a toned boy, but his chubby cheeks and soft tummy underneath that shirt only made him more enchanting to you.

—”So…what brings you to this small town?” His voice drags you out of the staring season, you were trying to catch a good amount of details of him, when you were caught. Jolting a bit with his sudden breathy voice, you had a hard time to stop looking at him from behind.

—”Vacation, I was needing this. I felt like an old woman in pain all day’s.” Leon chuckles, walking to the hallways and looking around, with your bag in his hands.

—”Well, you don’t seem old.”

—”I’m thirty one, do I still not look old?” You could hear Leon gasp, almost choking with his own saliva and you wanted to see his face at this moment when he sounded so surprised like this.

—”Wow, your appearance really doesn't make you look like thirty one.”

—”I guess this is good, then.”

—”Very good, ma’am. On the other hand, some people always say that I look too young for my age.” He sighs, shoulders falling for a moment. —”I’m twenty two, do I look younger?”

Leon stops on his way, making you stump on his back before you look him in the face, he turns to look at you. Your bag in hands, a pout on his lips and eyes that carries agony on it. He wanted you to answer.

—”You look…young, yeah. But I thought that you were this age or more, not less.”

—”Great! Because some people keep seeing me as a boy…especially my mamma…” Leon grumbles, whispering the last part as he continues to walk to the room you’re going to stay for two whole months here. Somehow, he felt comfortable enough around you to say that.

—”I cannot relate, but it must be hard.” You made your best to hold a silly chuckle, starting to follow him through the place again after some seconds frozen. His back was turned to you once again. —”And it is! But someone like you doesn’t have this kind of problem.”

Walking behind him, you catched some other things about him, mostly, that he has two moles on the right side of his neck that look like some vampire bit him. And the way his lips were plump and red and he kept biting them —may be a nervous tick he has.—

—”Someone like me?” He stops in front of a door, 215 on the front with a golden adorn on it. He gulps down and changes the subject.

—”W-Well, this is your room, ma’am.”

—”Thank you for the help, Leon. You saved my life.” Leon gave you your bag, biting his lips again and making them more swallow and dry than before. You get the keys and open the door, with a giggle.

—”It was nothing, if you need something, you can always call me.” Noticing his eyes piercing yours, he avoids your eyes when you catch him staring. Before answering, you couldn't hold back a silly giggle, enchanted by that young man.

—”I’ll sure do.”

—”I hope you enjoy your stay here, ma’am.”

—”I know I will.” Sounding way more flirty than you expected, you give him a harmless wink. Not so harmless because it makes Leon keep his eyes on you for a craving attempt to show something. Clearing his throat, he waves his hand at you before turning his back at you, reluctantly. When you did the same, he looked over his shoulder, just to see you one last time before you go inside your room.

You truly are something extraordinary to him, he did not expect to meet someone like you, an older foreign who took his mind at the first glare. You were way more than pretty for your age, looked young and had a voice that made his knees weak. Sure, he’s not in love with you, he’s just thinking you’re a graceful woman. Otherwise, if his father knows that a feeling might be growing on his chest for a client, he might get punished for that, even if he’s not a little boy anymore. But damn, how he wants to see you again, to hear your voice calling his name, to see your eyes wrinkling with a giggle because of something stupid he did, or just to see your curvy body. He can’t wait to see you again, indeed.

The first night was not that easy. The room was perfect, this was not the problem. A cozy decoration, the current of air at the window was gentle and calming, but most of all, you were lucky enough to get a pretty view of the grand sea faraway, that water made your whole body crave for a sea bath or at least taking in the great sun of Italy. Italy sure had the arms open for you, taking you in like a son of their nature, the orchards around bringing the sweet juicy smell to your casement, you just wanted to enjoy these two months and never leave anymore of the red dirt country. The problem was that the thoughts kicked in your head by the night, you were all alone, in a country you barely know, on the coast of it. This could be very dangerous for a woman, and it takes you a whole 3 hours to finally get to sleep. Not before a great bath in a bathtub, feeling the warm water flowing into your body and a glass of wine that you ordered from the lodge services.

On the next morning, only one thing would soothe you out; Taking a sunbath. Not before calling your friends to tell everything and how it was your trip to Italy until now. As you take some swimsuits, you show it on your phone camera, showing it to Jill and Claire on the face call.

—”So…this one? Or this one?” You heard an approving sound of the second one coming for both, Claire was the first to speak, while she had her tummy on the mattress and hands above her chin.

—”The second one is better, trust me.”

—”I agree, and maybe some Italian man around may agree too.” They giggled like some scholar girls talking about their crushes and you rolled your eyes up with the joke.

—”Oh come on, I'm not here for that!”

—”And what’s the problem in finding someone? You’ve been single for a long while now.” You had to agree with Jill, you’re thirty one and it's been a long while since you even kissed someone. Holding the second swimsuit in your hands, you look down on it, in front of your body and realizing that she’s right. —”Maybe all you need is someone, just don’t rush that.”

—”Yeah, who knows. Maybe your true love is in that small city in Italy.”

—”Who knows…” An unconscious smile grows in the corner of your lips, and Claire catches it at the same time, lifting her eyebrows at you.

—”I know that smile! What are you hiding?”

—”Oh, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A faux innocence glittered in your eyes, batting your eyelashes at both.

—”We’re gonna find out soon or later.” Jill hissed under her breath, knowing exactly that there’s something happening that you don’t want to talk about yet. And is not because you don’t trust them, it’s because nothing so extraordinary happened until now.

—”If you two think so…Well, I have a sunbath to take now, enjoy the cold, girls.”

—”Don’t throw this on our faces.” You three laughed before you said goodbye to the girls and left the call. Taking the second option, you slowly put the tight black halter swimsuit around your body, and take a book that you brought to read on the airplane.

On your way, the beach was just too close to go walking by. Bag in your shoulders and only your swimsuit and comfy cloud slippers you walked to there, making your way to the closest umbrella to stay underneath it. The air was not too hot, there weren't many people there, the perfect moment to be on the beach. You took a deep breath, just taking in the view of that sand underneath your feets, or the sea right in front of you, the waves were calling your name and the air felt way more light than before. Seeing a good wood chair to sit on it, you quickly go for it, laying there with only your legs exposed to the sun, the breeze was bringing you the chit chat of the Italians, words and words that you didn’t knew, lifes, families and kids all around, jumping or hopping to do whatever their might be doing on that glorious place. Some kids were making sandcastles, they even had talent for it. It made you even surprised by tiny humans building something so detailed with so much passion, true artists in their hearts you may say. You heard a worried shout on the other side of the beach, a father calling from his son as he dashed to the water happyfully “Ragazzo!” It’s the first thing you heard, and the word made you curious. Keeping your book aside, you didn’t even open it with that whole new bunch of culture in front of your eyes. Searching in your phone for what the father of the little boy yelped, you found the online dictionary.

“A male child (most commonly used) or a man who you are having a romantic relationship with.”

That looked interesting, you’re really learning a lot of things on this trip. With a proud smile, you kept looking at your screen for the translation, the Italian culture crawling inside your mind and making you even more curious to know more. You were crawling for more, begging for more and thirsty for the waters of a different place that felt like heaven, like true paradise in front of your mere eyes, your—

—”Buongiorno, ma’am.”

*(Good morning.)

The voice dragged you out of that learning hypnosis, making you look with wide eyes to who’s behind you. It’s Leon, with that cute lazy smile on his face and his hands behind his back. The way he spoke Italian made a shiver run through your spine, that same damn feeling. You didn’t even heard him coming.

—”It’s you. You scared me for a second.” A relieved breath came out, your hands on your chest, right on your still beating fast poor heart. He chuckled, and you noticed his eyes trailing down on your body. Leon licked his lips, his mind going off for a brief moment as he took the sight of you, on that swimsuit. He truly found it amazing to see the way your waist was so perfect underneath that, or the way your breasts were squeezed on that tight thing. Gosh, he truly adored everything about you in a swimsuit, he could drink from that water fountain for days, and live to worship you and that goddess body that he doubted to believe was real. He realized how hard he’s been staring at your body and quickly answered you in a failed voice.

—”I-I’m sorry, it was not my intention to scare you.”

—”Don’t you worry, ragazzo.” The nickname rolled out of your tongue, winking at him and watching as he froze in his place. Leon Bambi's eyes got even bigger, his lips parted in awe as his eyes dragged up to your eyes, even if he wanted to still look at your succulent legs. He could feel how his pants were getting tighter around his body, the temperature getting hotter and a single sweat drop falling down his forehead. All because of a nickname, not a mere nickname, but you calling him this way made him feel something different.

—”You’re calling me a boy?”

—”Maybe I am.” His lips curl up into a boyish smile, that gives you more confidence to keep going. Leon walked to your side, his hands behind his back to hide the fact that he’s fidgeting his fingers.

—”Well, do you see me as a boy?”

—”It depends, I haven't met you properly yet.” Crossing your legs one above another, his eyes travel down once again, he could feel his heart beating way too fast for a “client”.

—”And…what are you thinking of Italy until now?”

—”It’s very…pleasant of what I have seen yet.” Unconsciously, your eyes traveled at his body, up and down. He quickly noticed the flirt, his ears turning red as he looked away.

—”I’m glad you’re liking it.” His hand made his way to his nape, scratching it to dismiss the shyness away. As a silence creeps in, an idea comes up to your mind.

—”Ragazzo…could you do me a favor since you’re here?”

—”Uhm, of course! What is it?”

—”Could you apply some sunscreen to my legs?” Taking the bottle from your bag, you showed it up to Leon, his eyes lighting up to your favor.

He thought deeply about if he should accept it or not, those legs were calling him up, whispering his name to be caressed by his hands. He gulped loudly, those pants on his legs making everything sufferable to him as he nodded eagerly. His fingers touched yours when he took the bottle from your hands, a lingering movement that made him even more nervous. Leon looked at the bottle, pressing it and seeing the cream drops by the palm of his hands.

Bending down slightly, he looked at your eyes, looking as nervous as if he’s doing a life or death movement.

—”Can…i?”

—”Yes, go ahead.” You let your legs lay free on the white wood chair, Leon took a deep breath before his soft delicate hands touch your skin, causing you to feel a tingling on where he’s touching, he slowly cups your ankle, his hand all around it and showing you how big his hand actually is despite his touches being so respectful towards you. He’s gentle, not really wanting to make it seem like he’s taking advantage of you. Leon kneels down, his knees on the sand even if he doesn't care, it’s you who matters now, it’s his help that you asked for, even if the sand is hot on his skin and making him feel a strange feeling, he keeps doing it.

His hands were always not entirely touching you, as if he didn't deserve to touch you. His chin lifted it up, he had a pair of puppy eyes staring at you, almost begging for something he doesn’t express. You could hear his breath becoming heavier, shaky and sharp and his hands shaking on your skin.

—”Don’t be so nervous, you’re just helping me, no?” Your hands traveled to the top of his hair, scratching his scalp with a big grin. His eyes only grew bigger on you, he bit his lower lips and looked down at your legs nervously, fighting against an urge he didn't understand.

—”Y-Yes…”

Leon whispered, his voice lowering an octave from before and deep inside, you enjoyed seeing him that way. His hands roamed up further, trying his best at applying the product to prevent your perfect skin from burning. Leon couldn't look up at you at this point, feeling very sheepish for having a dirty mind at something so normal and common like this. It isn’t normal to him, not when your body is so damn pretty that messes up with his mind. His lips pursed, his body was there, but his mind was anywhere else, thinking of you. He’s fucked up, he can’t contain the dirty thoughts of you, he is able to feel his erection getting harder to disguise.

His movements suddenly get faster, he just needs to end this now or you will notice that he’s hard while touching you, and he doesn't want you to think he’s a pervert. Leon gets very close to your inner thigh, his breath stuck on his throat as he can smell your skin from that distance. That sweet smell, he could drown on it and he would be satisfied. But not now, when he applies the lotion all over your both legs, he gets up strangely, clearing his throat.

—”Thank you, Leon. You’re amazing.” He heard your voice praising him, and it only got worse. He felt his dick throbbing at your voice, his body craving you. He felt like a virgin teen who had never seen a pair of boobs before, but seeing your cleavage like this was dangerous for that poor boy's heart.

—”Don’t mention it.” Leon turned his body to the other side slightly, just his lower half so you wouldn’t notice his boner.

—”I won’t take your time anymore, thanks again and have a good day.”

—”N-No problem! I should say thanks to you, ma’am.” He gave you a desperate look, your eyes trailing down dangerously. That spark between you two was killing him, he just wanted to give in to that ferocious desire, he just wanted to feel your body all over him, touch you, kiss you and take you to his bed. He wanted to have you by his side. He turned his body uncomfortably even more to the other side, and you quickly knew he was hiding something from you.

—”Is everything okay, Ragazzo?” Did you know how you messed up with his mind? Sometimes he thought you did, because you were so damn attractive and you knew how to use your words to make him shake.

—”Y-Yep! Absolutely. I just…i think my papà called me and…i should go now.” Leon looked at you, trying his best to curl the corner of his lips into an awkward smile, it was the best he could do in that situation. —”It was nice to see you, I'll…see you later!”

He made his way back to the backdoors of the lodge where you came from quickly, not even giving you a chance to see his face one last time. In fact, he couldn’t stand one more second beside you without giving in to his hunger. You were lethal, a poisonous snake that was creeping over his mind, messing with everything he knew about morals or self control. He got up from the sand and left quickly, not even daring to breathe the same air as you do. Leon made his way inside and you watched as he slowly faded inside the building. He always acts strangely next to you, you notice how he's different with the other clients, but this was making you worry you may have said something wrong to him. But in reality, he just needed a bathroom to relieve that throbbing pain.

[saltsicklover]

Slamming Doors - BRB - Broken House

This was written as a oneshot but I have an idea on how to expand the story if there is interest for it! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!

Title: Slamming Doors

Series: Broken House

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, sick parent, car crash, pet names, lots of crying, lots of yelling, ANGST, misunderstandings.

Doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard. 

Honey like to think it's always better to be on the in swing of the door, rather than on the out swing. 

If she is on the in swing, Bradley would be storming in. It is like this often, the picture frame hung next to the door perpetually crooked from how often that damn front door is slammed. The corners of that frame are even chipped from the time or two it hit the tile floor. 

At least, if he is coming home, she has a chance to calm him down. To take his face in her hands and comfort the man she loves. To kiss his lips and agree that the Captain is a dumbass who doesn't have a damn clue about how to do his job. She is always there to comfort him, to take the weight of the day off of his shoulders when things have been bad. 

Hell, it isn't even always bad. Sometimes, maybe more often than sometimes, Hangman or Phoenix would be toting Bradley in, his arm held tightly over their shoulder, and he would drunkenly kick the door shut, the front of the house rattling with the abrupt closure. He would slur his words and hiccup, but always be happy to leave his friend's arms the moment he spots her. 

It is different now, though. 

Now, Honey is on the out swing. Bradley has her walking out after a fight, too heated to work it out. 

The front door slams again, the picture frame rattling lightly against the wall. Bradley walks into the living room before dropping his duffle bag in front of the couch. It is filthy, he is filthy. The arms of his flight suit are tied low on his hips, his white t-shirt completely stained with grease and gear lubricant. It looks angry, deep brown and jet black against the stark white of the cotton. Days like this, Honey would be in his arms as soon as his bag hits the floor, but today is different. 

Honey stands on the other side of the room, her back to her lover. 

Bradley and Honey are somewhere between whole heartedly committed and casual. She practically lives in his small home with him when he isn't away on deployment and there to take care of his plants when he is. It has been this way for almost two years, a little house right down the road from the beach in Pensacola. 

NAS Pensacola isn't home to Bradley, and Florida isn't home to either of them. They met by happenstance, both stranded in a storm at a little bar-motel in Maryland. He was there for work, she was there trying to track down information on her father. One drink turned into three, one night turned into a long weekend, and the two have been intertwined ever since. Honey followed him to Florida, still on her search for her father, who she never called by name. She'd said it was too painful and she wasn't ready to talk about him until she could talk to him. They hadn't intended on dating, and Honey had intended on getting the information she was looking for and then be moving on. But they had to go and fall in love. 

"Honey?" Bradley finally looks up at her, taking in the slump of she shoulders. The whole energy in the house wrong. There is no candle burning on the coffee table, the blinds aren't open to let the sun in, and Honey hadn't found her way into his arms yet. Something is most definitely wrong. 

He bends down to untie his boots as he waits for his lover to answer his call. She doesn't move to turn around, nor does she say a word. Her eyes are locked on the photo of Bradley and Nick, his father, that is hanging up on the wall. In it, Bradley sits atop Nick's shoulders, both wearing grins so big she could practically see the ache in their cheeks. Her eyes trace over the frame, then Bradley, down to Nick, then back up again to repeat the process. Honey has been standing there, eyes glued to the photo for the better part of the last hour.  

Before she found herself in front of the photograph on the wall, she had been staring at the photo in her hand for much too long. She has been holding it so long that there are fingerprints on the glossy side of the photo, both in full and partial prints not kept to the edges. 

Honey had been dusting the mantle earlier that afternoon, her body poised on a stepstool to get the shelves above the fireplace too. As she was cleaning, she bumped a framed photograph of Bradley and his mother, Carole, posed together on his High School graduation, shortly before she had passed away. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his frame, partly out of love, partly to keep herself standing upright. She had insisted on standing for the photo, even though Bradley wanted her to stay in her wheelchair. 

Bradley had told Honey about his mother so many times before. He loved showing her the photographs and telling her stories. He is so proud of his parents; but Honey knew he was a Mama's boy. That was likely because she was the only parent he had for a majority of his life, between deployments and his father's untimely passing. 

The relationship he had with his Mother was special. It was something that allowed Bradley and Honey to bond over when they first began dating. Her father walked out on her and her Mother before she had her first birthday. Honey was a Mama's girl too- her Mother passed away five years prior due to a driving accident. Black ice in the middle of winter was no joke, and Honey's mother should not have been out driving in the first place. 

Both effectively orphans, the pair bonded quickly. Lack of family tended to do that to people. 

Bradley tired to get Honey to talk about her father, to share just a little bit of information about him. All he ever managed to learn was his Navy association. He grimaced when he found out, knowing just how many deadbeats there are in the Military. 

After Honey had knocked the photograph off the shelf with her elbow, it hit the floor and shattered. It took her ages to clean up the glass, and she even managed to save the photo of Bradley and his mother from being ruined. What she was not expecting was the photograph hidden behind it. 

In her hand, she clutches a photo of Pete Mitchell and Bradley at his high school graduation, both smiling and happy. Bradley has the hope for his whole future in his eyes, that much is clear enough to see. Pete has an arm around Bradley, pulling him close as he holds a photo of Nick in his other hand.

The photograph lead her to where she stands now, unwavering in her place, even as Bradley calls her name again.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Bradley crosses the room, his untied shoelaces hitting against his boots with small clinks from the plastic aglets. He reaches a hand out to her, gently pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Honey?" 

She turns to him, eyes glassy. The sight of Bradley swims, tears distorting her vision. Her cheeks are red, like she has been straining to hold back her tears. Quickly, he eyes the rest of her form, taking her in in her entirety, trying to pinpoint her distress. His eyes land on the photo she has creased in hand. Gently, he takes the photo from her hand before pulling her into his chest. 

The grease smeared shirt across his chest becomes a home for a lose tear as he brings her into his frame, her face pressing into the expanse of his chest, near his shoulder. 

"I broke a frame while I was cleaning," Honey begins, her voice so quiet he almost misses it, "I'm sorry, Bradley," 

"Oh, Honey," Bradley coos lightly, "You don't have to be sorry, it's okay. The frame can be replaced, no need to be upset, Sweet Girl,"

Honey sniffles against his chest, bringing a hand up to try and brush a tear from the fullness of her cheek. She almost chides him for thinking she would be upset over something so small, but she can't find it in her to make the joke out loud. 

Bradley smiles to himself, thinking about how caring his girl is, but the smile immediately disappears as he looks at the photo he had taken from her moments before. This is not the photo that was on display. Bradley would never have a photo of Maverick up in his house, not after the older man pulled his papers for the academy. Absolutely not. 

"Honey," Bradley pulls back, his eyes glued on the photo, "Where did you get this?" 

"It was in the back of the frame- behind the- behind the photo of you and your Mom," She hiccups through the sentence, anxiety rising up in her chest again. The taste of bile is sour on her tongue as she looks over Bradley's expression. His brows are furrowed, eyes narrow and angry as he locks eyes with the photograph. 

"Who is that?" Honey asks, even though she already knows. 

"Pete Mitchell," Bradley's voice is laced with so much venom it gives her goosebumps. She raises her eyebrows but Bradley doesn't need prompting to continue. "He flew with my Dad, was the reason for his accident. If they didn't have to eject, my father would still be here today. And then, when I applied for the Academy, he derailed my career by years when he pulled my papers. I haven't spoken to him since," 

A noncommittal hum is the only thing Honey can muster in response. Honey can feel her skin flush hot and cold but tries to push the feeling aside. 

"I need to talk to you about something," Honey's words sound heavy coming off of her tongue. The tone snaps Bradley's eyes right up to her, the picture being abandoned on the coffee table. 

"What is it?" 

There are so many things Honey wants to say. She wants to plead for Bradley to tell her everything he knows about Maverick. There is a part of her, deep inside, that is still eight years old, still the same little girl who realized for the first time that her father wasn't coming back not because he couldn't but because he didn't want to.  

Honey wants to tell Bradley that Maverick is her father, to explain that the man standing next to him, clad in a leather jacket and dark washed jeans is her father. The man who didn't want her. She wants to bond over their appeared shared hatred of the man. Honey wants to curse his name and burn every photo of him that the two are in possession of. She wants to say fuck you to Pete Mitchell all together, with the man she loves by her side. 

But instead, the words that leave her mouth are much, much worse. 

"You can't talk about your father anymore," 

The words aren't tactful, but they aren't exactly a lie either. She has always had a hard time listening to Bradley talk about Nick. There has always been something so fucking bitter inside of her whenever he would talk about him. The knowledge that her father is a Naval Aviator, just as Bradley's had been was just too close for comfort for her. But now? Knowing that the stories of his father are also stories of her father. That broke her. 

"Excuse me?" 

The statement catches Bradley off guard so much he almost feels dizzy. If it weren't for the clunky air conditioning unit in the window behind Honey humming away, he might've blamed the feeling on stifling Floridian humidity. But, unfortunately for them both, he heard her correctly. 

"That's not what I meant! Shit!" Honey starts, but Bradley's expression doesn't turn any more pleasant. 

"I mean, fuck, I can't listen to you talk about your father anymore!" That sentence isn't any better. Honey can hear her own blood rushing through her ears, the same way she can feel the heat rising to her face with it. 

"What?" 

The venom is back in Bradley's voice, anger is beginning to boil behind the color in his eyes. Suddenly Honey wishes she could rewind time, just two fucking minutes. 

If there is one thing for sure, Honey may just be fragile like that picture frame, but Bradley is fragile like a bomb. 

Bradley's fists ball at his sides, knuckles going white as he squeezes them tight. Honey can't take her eyes from his face, from the vein that bulges in the side of his neck. She notices how his lip curls forward, his mustache sloping downward with his frown. 

"I just-" Honey takes a deep breath; it's ragged as it goes in and back out, catching on the broken pieces of her heart, "I can't have flashbacks from memories that aren't mine- I can't have this image in my mind of a man that I didn't know," 

Bradley is fuming now, listening to the words as they come out of his lover's mouth. He already had a shit day, having come down on new assignment back to TOP GUN. He didn't want to tell Honey, worried about what she might say. Worried that she might not pack up her life and go with him, or worse, that she wouldn't be here waiting for him to come back. 

Honey isn't explaining herself well, but he doesn't know that, nor can he calm down enough to figure out exactly what she is talking about. At face value, she is bad mouthing his father, the great Nick Bradshaw, mother Goose, and Bradley won't stand for that. He misses the words coming out of her mouth and the new tears that have made their way down her cheeks. 

"Shut up!" Bradley yells, his hands coming up to grip tightly in his hair. The words cut Honey off mid-sentence, and she obeys the command, more out of stunned compliance than choice. 

"Brad-" 

"No!" He points a finger right into her face, anger fully taking him over. He hasn't been this angry since Mav pulled his papers, the almost forgotten feeling burning beneath his skin. Honey's lip quivers, but she pulls it into her mouth, between her teeth to keep him from seeing it. "You do not get to stand here, in my house, and talk shit about my father!" 

"No! Brad-" Honey holds out her hands, pleading for him to just listen, for just one second. Just long enough for her to get this mess of a miscommunication figured out. 

"Enough!" Bradley's voice practically shakes the room, "Get out!" 

"What?" Honey's voice is so unbelievably small now, like she doesn't trust herself to speak. 

"Get. Out. Now." Bradley can barely look at her. Honey knows when she has lost a fight. So, she moves past him, grabbing her purse from the couch on her way past. She makes it to the door, her hand still on the handle before she speaks one last time.

"You like to think you are so much like your father, all good heart and good man, but in reality, you are just like mine," 

Honey slams the door behind her, the sound echoing though the house. She doesn't stop long enough to hear the picture frame fall from it's place on the wall, the glass shattering against the tile. 

There is too much left unsaid, the words that made it out taken to far and just wrong. Nick was the kind of man she always wished her father would have been. Kind, good, loving. And when she didn't find that in her own father, she found it in Bradley instead. Bradley liked to say that his father would have loved her, enough for both himself and her father combined, and she believed it too. But now, as she walks away from Bradley, she can't help but know just how disappointed Nick would be in her. 

Because, doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard. And now, Honey knows exactly just how much better things are on the in swing of that front door. 

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

One of these days I'll finish writting the fanfic of this tiny Trans Reversed-Love Square Miraculous Ladybug AU that has been eating my brain:

— Adrien Agreste is Kitty Noir. Reclusive homeschooled rich supermodel by day, Paris superheroine by night.

—Adrien thinks of Kitty as just a persona he can play with, like a videogame avatar. ('It tootally doesn't mean anything that Kitty feels right, and like home, and like freedom, what are you talkikg about guys?' )

—Kitty is Ladybug's partner in fighting agains crime. Kitty brings the 'there's always time for a joke' vibe to the superhero work that Ladybug pretends not to appreciate.

—One night, Kitty is saved from an akumatized villain attack by a civilian named Marinette, and is heartstruck by her kindness and bravery. (Ladybug was busy that night, if you can believe it.)

—Kitty visits her at her balcony the next night, and Marinette tells her about feeling lonely at school. Kitty knows loneliness, and their night meetings at the balcony become a common ocurrence.

—They become friends. One night, Kitty flirts. Marinette responds (Because tonight she is just a normal girl with a normal life, why wouldn't she?) And Kitty well, she is kind. Her jokes aren't cruel, and she listens to her.

—And Kitty likes the way light hits her hair, and how clumsy and determined she is. Is this what having a friend is like? Wishing time would stop so she could keep lisening to Marinette?

—And ups! Kitty is getting close, and moving in circles around Marinette and Marinette feels safe. Kitty is kind of funny. And Marinette realizes she wants some funny in her life.

—Kitty leans. Marinette kisses her. She is not sure why she did that. Oh! Marinette retreats, but Paris at night makes Kitty's green eyes shine like stained glass. Wait, does she like girls? Does she like this girl?

—Kitty kisses her again, and Kitty is in heaven. Alone. Alone is a far away word. For a second the whole world feels like home. But stop.

—Kitty (or Adrien?) pulls away. 'Because this isn't right' 'Because you are just my fan, you don't know me.'

'Because Kitty isn't real... right?'

—Kitty leaves. Is not ethical, it can't be. They both agree. Just friends. 'Sometimes, I'll catch a glipse of you in the moonlight.'

—Marinette, see, now she was a problem. Ladybug can't be in love with her partner, no way. Is not right, is too distracting. And they have people to save!

—So Ladybug pretends everything is ok. 'Kitty, we have to be focused at all times' she tells her, trying to ignore how pretty her smile is.

—But duty is first, Paris is counting on them. Even if Kitty calling her 'My Lady' keeps her awake at night. 'All girls fantasize about their friends like that, right?'

—Adrien sits on his bed, and thinks about what would happen if he could be Kitty all the time. If Kitty is just a character, just a game, why did it felt so good, so real, to kiss Marinette?

—Marinette liked Kitty, and Kitty wasn't even trying. 'You are so beautiful, you know that, right?' She had said one night, laughing, after Kitty had make her dance. So spontaneous, she had blushed after.

—He was allowed to like that thought, right? Kitty was beautiful. He (she?) was beautiful. 'Am I, beautiful?' How much of Kitty is acting, and how much of her is true?

—Kitty doesn't visit often now. Marinette overthinks. 'She moved on, of course she did, why wouldn't she, I said it was ok, why doesn't it feel ok?'

—One day, Ladybug "accidentally" sees Kitty sneak into the Agreste Mansion. Oh! So she really meet someone else. 'She used to sneak into my house like that' And she meet no other than golden boy Adrien Agreste. Supermodel Adrien Agreste. Rich and Misterious Adrien Agreste.

—Of course, I mean, this Adrien guy is kinda cute. And Kitty is cute. Match made in heaven right? Is non of her buisness anyways.

—But Adrien is a little too misterious, right? He doesn't even go to school! And what was that Alya told her the other day? Oh! He is friends with Chloe?? Too suspicious...

—Is ok, she is just worried about Kitty. They are partners, gals, Marinette just wants to make sure Kitty's boy is the right one. 'What does she sees in him anyways?'

—Adrien meets Marinette one day, at a gala, she designed a hat for him! She is wonderful, and Adrien wants to say hi, but she keeps avoiding him. 'Is just the nerves for the event, she toootally didn't roll her eyes at me.'

—Adrien meets Nino. He is great. He tells him about school, and Adrien dreams about how cool it would be to go to school. He asks his dad, and he actually considers it?

Nino supports him, even Chloe vouches for him. Father says yes, he can go to school!.

—Adrien arrives at his first day, and oh! There is Marinette! How great is this!

—Marinette raises her head, and oh! There is Adrien Agreste! How great is this?

[starsval]

I think there's been a glitch

James x reader

Summary: James and you were supposed to be just friends, but things change.

Word count: 1k

Warning: Smoking, kissing, fluff, reader doesn't like parties, reader is in the Quidditch team.

A/N: the reader is called "girlfriend" like twice. Pls I find Taylor Swift songs really inspiring.

You were at a party after winning a Quidditch match, you were still in the team clothes, looking for your friends after everyone was trying to congratulate you for catching the snitch. That’s when you found Lily with a very drunk James with her.

“Thank God, he hasn’t stopped talking about you” She says rolling her eyes as she drags both of you to the stairs that go to the rooms. “I know this is kinda your party but could you take him up there, I really want to see Mary tonight”

“It’s fine Lily, good luck!” You tell her as she walks away. “How did you get so drunk?” You ask James as you drag him upstairs.

“I’m not, I just wanted to see you” He says, walking in your room.

“Oh, I get it, you’re high”

“Just a bit sweetheart” Then he flops in your bed. “You should thank me for the excuse to leave the party” He says as he gives you a joint.

“Thank you James, I don’t know what I’d do without you” You sarcastically say as you smoke, sitting by the window. You didn’t really like those parties, it was too much for you. And James being the only one that knows it, he often helps you sneak out.

“I hope you never have to find out” Then he starts talking about how Sirius got mad at Remus because he said that he looked like Snape from behind.

“Wait, he kinda does…” Now you’re equally high as James, laying in bed next to him, laughing at Sirius even though he’s not here.

“We should kiss” He suddenly says.

“What?” You ask him. Because you want to, but he’s high right now so you’re not sure if you can believe him.

“Yeah, it makes sense, everybody is dating someone from the friend group, maybe we should do the same.”

“How did you go from kissing to dating?” You ask him, avoiding the question, trying to not expect anything from this. He’s high you remind yourself as you look at his lips.

“Why don’t you answer?” He asks, looking at you.

“You’re high James, just sleep” You look away and stare at the ceiling.

“But I mean it” He frowns.

“No you don’t”

“Yes I do”

“James-” You look at him.

“Y/n” He looks at you and smiles.

“If you mean it, we can talk tomorrow” You turn around, making him face your back. And maybe you regret it, maybe you should kiss him ‘til you can’t breathe, maybe you should confess your love for him, but you don’t, you just fall asleep thinking about him.

When you wake up he’s not there, he isn’t at the common room either, or at the great hall. You start to worry about your friendship when Sirius approaches you in the halls.

“Hey Y/n, Prongs wants you to go to the tree where we always meet” He says really slowly.

“Did he tell you why?” You ask him, getting nervous.

“I think so, but I’m half asleep right now so I’m not sure" Then, he walks away yawning. 

You go to the tree and find James laying down with his hands under his head, on a blanket and a lot of chocolate next to him. 

"Hi" You say. 

"Sirius found you" He says, looking at you but not changing his position. 

"Yes, he told me to come here" 

"Can you please sit down?" He asks. You sit down and look at the lake in front of you. At this point you're not sure if he remembers about yesterday. 

"What's this James?" You finally ask him. 

"I meant it" He suddenly says. 

"James-"

“I don’t know how it happened Y/n, but I just want you. And I don't know if you feel the same but I had to tell you. I can't miss the chance" He sits and looks at you, holding one of your hands. "And I get it if you don't feel like I do, I mean, I don't understand it because have you seen me?" He says with a smirk, to which you roll your eyes, smiling. "I just had to tell you, and I know we were supposed to be just friends, but I'm not even sorry, I'm in love with you" He lets out a breath and looks at you. 

"Can I kiss you?" You ask him, because you can't put into words what you're feeling right now. 

He doesn't answer, instead his hands leave yours and go to your cheeks. He looks at you, then at your lips, and then he kisses you. He does it like he's proving that it's real, and when he realizes it is, his hands go to your waist, and yours go to the back of his neck. He kisses you until you can't breathe, and even then, you're still kissing, you're still feeling his lips on yours, you're still getting intoxicated by his eucalyptus smell, by his chocolate flavor, by the sounds he makes. 

When you actually can't breathe, you pull apart, resting your forehead on his. 

"It took you a long time to do that" You tell him. 

"I know, but now you know I mean it, don't you?"

"I'm in love with you too" He pulls apart and looks at your eyes, smiling. 

"This is the best day of my life"

“Even better than the day you made everyone forget Snape’s name?” You ask, smiling.

“Yeah, second best day….” He smirks. “So, when are you going to tell me how you fell in love with me?, because I need all the details” You roll your eyes.

“I don’t know James, you were the only one to notice that I don’t like those parties, and you’d bring me food when I was too sleepy to go to the kitchen with you guys, and you’d help me relax before every test. You cared, you always cared. That’s why I fell in love with you” You smile. “Also you’re terribly hot, like, unbelievably hot” He looks proud when you say that.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend” You reply before kissing him again.

 ᰔᩚෆ❧ღდლ❦ও❥ଓ

When James practically drags you to the common room holding hands, all of your friends look at you, then at your hands, at James’ smile and then at Sirius when he groans. 

"I'm too hungover to process this"

[angelasscribbles]

What Happened in Vegas

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Riley x Liam x Drake

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: mature themes I guess

Word Count: 1,796

A/N: Credit/blame goes to @aussiegurl1234 for putting this in my head with the simple statement that the Vegas fling should have been a threesome. To be clear: There is no smut here, this isn't set in Vegas, but rather the aftermath and results of what happened.

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam's head guard entered the council chambers to whisper in the king's ear. "Sorry to interrupt, but the Duchess of Valtoria is asking to see you. She says it's important."

Riley was on the short list of people that had unrestricted access to him at all times. "Thank you, Alec." He nodded to dismiss the guard, then turned back to the council members. "Are we about done here?"

"Well, there was one last item—" The Earl of Dunwick pointed to the line item on the agenda about a proposed construction project and a lake full of some protected fish.

"Anything that can't wait until next week?"

"Well…. The project management company has been waiting for an answer for six months already…"

"So, what's one more week?" Liam grinned. "Meeting adjourned!"

The king of Cordonia damn near skipped through the halls to the private sitting room where the woman who made his heart beat was waiting.

His smile faltered when he found Drake waiting with her.

He had hoped Riley was there to spend some quality time with him. He didn't see her near as often as he would have preferred. Ever since the advent of her marriage to his best friend, their trysts had diminished. Not ended mind you, but it wasn't like it had been during the social season when they had been sneaking off every chance they got to the hedge maze, the rooftop, or an empty guest room.

Then the coronation debacle had happened and everything had gone sidewise.

He had hoped to be able to repair their relationship during the engagement tour and he had, to some extent.

Riley had told him up front when she started sleeping with Drake, but somehow, every time she reminded him of her new relationship, the two of them ended up in bed together. "I'm with Drake now, remember?" Always ended with her screaming his name.

Pushing his disappointment aside, he embraced and kissed her on the lips before turning to acknowledge Drake's presence. Greetings were exchanged, then he directed his attention back to Riley. "Not that I'm complaining, in any way, I am always happy to see you, but why are you here?"

Riley cut straight to the chase. "I think I'm pregnant. My period is late, and I can't remember if I had it last month or not." Life had been busy since assuming the mantle of Duchess and starting married life with Drake.

Liam did some quick backward math. His eyebrows shot up as he looked from her to Drake and back again. "Vegas?"

"Vegas," she nodded.

"So…whose is it?"

Riley threw her arms up in the air. "I don't know. Does it matter?"

"Of course it fucking matters, Riley!"

"Not to me it doesn't," Drake broke in. He moved closer so he could wrap both arms around his wife. Nuzzling into the side of her neck, he told her, "I love you either way."

"I didn't say I wouldn't still love her!" Liam exploded. "Don't put words in my mouth!"

"Oh, calm down," Riley admonished. "I don't even know if I'm pregnant yet. I thought you should both be here when I take the test, given that there's no way to know which one of you knocked me up."

Liam took a deep breath and tugged at his tie as mentally collected himself. An out of wedlock heir to the throne would be a scandal of epic proportions, but the thought was not entirely unwelcomed. "Right. Thank you for that. If this child is mine, I want to be involved every step of the way."

Riley gave him an affectionate smile. "See? I knew that, and that's why we're here, Right, babe?"

"Right." Drake released her and stepped back. "Are we sure it happened in Vegas? Because if it happened on our wedding night or during the honeymoon—"

"Or in the weeks leading up to the wedding?" Liam interjected. He had spent quite a bit of time helping the new duchess settle into her role. He had also helped her out of her clothes more often than not after a long day of diplomatic lessons.

Riley waved him off. "I had a period just before Vegas, that I remember. So if the baby is yours, it almost had to have happened in Vegas. After all, you were both inside me that night. When you weren't inside each other, that is." Her hand went to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Drake's eyes met Liam's over the top of her head. Both men froze for a second as both faces flushed red, then both sets of eyes dropped quickly to the floor.

The night in Vegas had been wild, but they had never discussed it after the fact. Liam was out as bisexual, but it had been Drake's first and only experience with a man.

Drake was well aware of his wife's extracurricular activities with his best friend. He had no issues with it. In fact, images of Liam and Riley together fueled more of his fantasies than he liked to admit.

"Okay, I'm going to pee on this stick now!" She brandished it in front of them like a kid with a magic wand before disappearing into the attached bathroom.

The men made awkward small talk as they waited, both of them breathing out a sigh of relief when she returned, alleviating the danger of them having to address the elephant in the room, at least for the moment.

"Now we wait," she chirped. "Could one of you set a timer for two minutes?"

Liam had his phone out first. "Done!"

It was the longest two minutes of his life. He paced the floor, deep in thought as Riley and Drake sat on the settee, making plans for the weekend, laughing and touching each other frequently.

The timer dinged and all three heads snapped up. Three sets of eyes flitted from one person to the other to the bathroom door.

Riley stood and went to retrieve the answer to their question. She returned from the bathroom to both men's gazes locked on her with anticipation.

"The moment of truth…" she glanced down at the stick in her hand, feeling disappointment wash through her in place of the relief she had expected to feel. "It's negative. I'm not pregnant."

Drake's brows furrowed as he moved closer to her. "Are you okay? I thought that's the result you wanted, but you look sad."

Liam backed away from them. "I… just need a moment to process…"

He resumed his pacing as he grappled with an onslaught of mixed emotions.

No scandal, no awkward questions, no figuring out how to juggle schedules between three adults and two homes… but also no heir, no biological tie to the woman he loved, and no relief from the unrelenting pressure to marry and produce offspring. He stopped pacing and spun to face Drake. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"What did I say earlier?"

"That you didn't care whose baby it was."

"Right. Yeah…." Drake's eyes tracked from Liam to Riley and back again. "Why? There is no baby—"

"What if there were?"

Drake blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…." He crossed the room quickly and took Riley's hands in his. "Have a baby with me, Riley! On purpose!"

Giddiness bubbled up inside of her at the prospect. But he couldn't be serious, could he? "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Do you want to see me married to someone else?"

Riley's gaze slid to Drake as she considered if her answer would hurt him. But they had promised each other unrelenting honesty, no matter what. She returned her attention to Liam and shook her head.

"Then give me an heir so I don't have to marry…. Anyone, ever!"

"Is that even a thing that we can do?"

"Yes! It's not totally without precedence. I simply have to acknowledge the child and publicly legitimize him or her. Which I will!" He dropped down on one knee. "I know you're already married, but consider this an official proposal to be my royal consort. Openly. Move back to the palace. Take your rightful place by my side!"

Drake's throat cleared. "Um… hello? What are you doing?"

"Sorry!" Liam scrambled to his feet. "I may have gotten carried away there, but I'm serious. Do you honestly like living in Valtoria?"

"Not really," Drake admitted, "But I'd live in Antarctica if that's where my wife was."

"Then you're open to moving back home?"

A spark of jealousy flared through him, followed almost immediately by a pang of longing.

There was no doubt that he was in love with his wife. Helplessly, hopelessly, head over heels in love with her. But the night in Vegas had opened a door he had been avoiding peaking behind for his entire life, leaving him questioning the nature of his feelings for his best friend.

His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "I… what exactly are you proposing? That my wife shacks up with you? Where does that leave me?"

"I'm sorry if I wasn't clear. I meant both of you."

Drake's entire body stilled as his mind raced to interpret Liam's meaning. "Both of us…. what?”

Liam shrugged. "Whatever you want, whatever you'll allow. I want you both to move in. We've already agreed to this situation we find ourselves in with Riley. We can continue as we are, with her splitting time between our bedrooms or…"

"Or?" Drake struggled to keep the note of hopefulness out of his voice, sure that everyone in the room could hear the pounding of his heart.

With a smirk, Liam moved closer to him. "Or you and I can continue what we started in Vegas and see where it goes."

Blood rushed to his face, heating his cheeks as he nodded, then looked away.

"Great!" Liam turned back to Riley. "You don't have to answer right now if you're not ready. Take your time and—"

"Yes! I'll do it! We'll move in, I'll be your consort, we can have a baby! As long as Drake is okay with all of it, that is."

"I'm okay with it."

Liam felt a rush of happiness crash over him. "Can you stay tonight? I'd like to start working on that baby right away."

"Oh, I don't know if—"

"It's okay," Drake assured her. "If you want to stay, I can go pack some of our clothes and—"

"Actually," Liam interrupted, "I was hoping you could join us."

Drake's eyes widened, slid down Liam's body, then closed as he drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

The trajectory of his life was about to change. And he couldn't wait to see where it would take him.

[kahvilahuhut]

diner breakfast

summary: Toby & Klara are going to work together and decide to stop by a diner for a breakfast.

a cynosure scene idea i wanted to write out <3 enjoy!

"This is nice."

"Good. I was hoping you wouldn't hate it because you had to wake up earlier."

Tobias smiled, moving its hand slowly from the coffee cup to touch Klara's. "Please, I'd wake up earlier for you any time you want."

"Uh-huh."

"And wouldn't hate it. Forgot to add that."

Klara snorted out a laugh, making the old lady at the table next to theirs glance at them both chuckling together for a moment, a slightly judging look on her face, before turning back to her companion.

"Okay, okay," Klara said, pausing to take a breath, "How about that one time I woke you up at 6 so you could wait for the mailman while I went for a morning run."

"That doesn't count. You woke me up for a mailman."

They both stared at each other for a moment, before laughing again, making the old lady clear her throat as if trying to make them stop in a somewhat polite way.

"Okay, fine. You're right about that one," Klara murmured and picked up her cup to take a sip. "Hm, wait a moment, I'm going to get some honey."

"Of course, honey," Tobias chuckled and watched her glance at it with a wide smirk as she got up from the chair and began walking towards the counter.

It leaned back on its bench and looked around. The diner was half full, some of the customers sitting alone or getting a take away coffee, some sitting in pairs or groups and chatting with each other.

Glancing at the table next to them, it noticed the old lady hold a newspaper in her hand, while waving the other as she explained something. Her companion, a young looking person, nails painted in dark brown with little white dots, was leaning on their hand and nodding along as the old lady went on. Tobias considered interrupting them to ask about the nail paint they used, but decided to sit still and not to annoy them even more.

The background music that was playing from the little speakers was loud enough despite the noise coming from all the people in the diner. It was the first thing it paid attention to when entering, and wondered if it was planned to be like that so the customers could decide if they want to listen to this kind of music or if they want to look for another diner.

The playlist was playing a third sad country-style song in a row, somehow making it think of the plan of the day, the place where they were both going.

Tobias shook its head to drive those thoughts away and reached for its fried egg sandwich.

Klara returned with two honey packets and one box, stopping for a moment to ruffle its hair a little, leaving two gray strands hanging above its forehead, moved her coffee cup and pancakes next to its plate and sat next to it.

Tobias leaned on her shoulder and watched her empty a honey packet into her coffee cup. "I also ordered two small pieces of cheesecake," she smiled, "As a take away, though, could use them as a meeting snack."

"Sounds lovely."

"Mm, not really into talking about it?"

"I'm- well. I don't know. Kinda?" it mumbled before taking another bite of the sandwich. "Feels weird. Though, I gotta admit, going for a breakfast together definitely made me feel better."

"Think we should do that more often?"

"Haha, definitely. I mean, we do have breakfasts together all the time, but it's been a while since we actually managed to go somewhere on a work day. It's nice."

Klara wrapped her hand around its shoulder. "Glad to hear that, dear."

It smirked and took a sip of its coffee. "Oh, wait. Um, does this mean you'll leave work a bit later? Because you're starting later-"

"Hah, no, technically I'm already working. If you look at the time stamps."

"Breakfast date on company time, incredible."

"Marked this part in my calendar as a 'meeting with an intercorporate person', too. Fitting, concidering you're working for Glacier."

"Ohhhh, so you're, what, working on intercorporate relations here, are you?"

"I mean, I am a specialist in that department."

"Think you can add more meetings like this?"

"I'll send you a calendar invite."

They both laughed.

"Honestly, though," Klara murmured, "it is fun to work together because now we can see each other more during work days."

"Mh, well, I'm not saying that's the only reason I agreed, but..."

"Hmm, good to know, good to know," she smirked and kissed its cheek, making its smile even wider.

They sat quietly together for a moment, finishing their breakfasts. Tobias felt Klara's hand gently rub its shoulders, making it realize how stiff they were, and how it was clenching it's jaw.

"Can I admit something?"

Klara looked at it. "Of course, sunshine."

"I'm...well... A bit scared? Afraid?" It paused and finished its coffee. "I don't know if it's because of what happened before, or if I'm just anxious about the unknown, but, well..."

"Darling... I'm sure everything will be fine. New team, new admins, the Board people watching veeeery closely," she murmured, "And you know I'll always be there for you if something happens."

"Mmhmm..." Tobias smiled, "You have no idea how much that helps."

"Good..." she picked up a honey packet and put it in her pocket, "Now, how about we get back in the car and go to the office? If we get there early we could find a spot to sit next to each other at."

"Ooh, sounds incredible..."

Klara smirked. "Glad you're so excited."