#Looker is done someone pls help him

[pokespefangirl]

Pokespe incorrect quotes

Blake/Lack-Two: Detective Looker, can I ask you something?

Looker (impatiently looking at his Croagunk sneakily going off to the Team Plasma meeting site): Yes sir?

Blake/Lack-Two: My eyes keep straying off to a certain bun-haired ex-Plasma member instead of the primary location. Is this because my intuition still thinks she's a Team Plasma member?

Looker: *No you disrespectful yet highly ranked buffoon it's because you just have the hots for her* Yes sir, it's probably just your intuition.

Blake/Lack-Two: Oh I see! Makes sense.

[awkward-tension-art]

OMG HI, it's my first time making a request ever. So I just finished watching the first episode of Fallout and couldn't stop imagining a one-shot of Leon x reader being the couple getting married (but in this case, no one gets murder). Basically, just fluff and smut inspired from the line where the girl goes "are you're sperm good?" or smth like that.

PLS I'LL DIE IF YOU MAKE IT

Dawg, I’m gonna be honest, I had to find a reaction video on youtube so if I’m missing details, I'm sorry! But you kinda inspired a whole idea of Resident Evil Fallout AU lmaooo. I pictured RE2 Leon for this

I didn’t go smut just because I wasn’t in the mood, but I hope this is OK!

Also, SPOILERS (i guess?) and MINORS GO AWAY

So, lets just say the raiders didn't invade the vault and an actual blight had taken out half of vault 32

So both you and Leon went through the process of the selection. He was…a little less willing. I see Leon as a rather…intimate guy, so getting poked and prodded for a wife he didn’t choose was…not his favorite.

You, on the other hand, were doing what you were taught. You handled the whole process easily enough. You got your wedding dress, got dolled up, and were escorted to vault 32.

The doors were open and the two of you were revealed to one another.

He was handsome, in a boyish sort of way. But he was shy. Very shy. Leon wasn’t even meeting your eye.

He, however, thought you were beautiful.

I personally headcanon Leon as not really seeing himself as a looker. I mean, he wouldn’t consider himself ugly, but he doesn’t really consider himself attractive either.

So…you can imagine when he saw you, his heart pretty much jumped out his throat.

“Hi.” you smiled at him so sweetly, introducing yourself, “Your name?”

“Leon.” he cleared his throat

You could hear someone behind you whisper, “lucky…”

The wedding proceeded that same night. To you, this was doing a duty. While you didn’t know Leon, you had hope that you both would find love in eachother. Meanwhile, your husband-to-be was still nervous. He even looked terrified to a degree. He kept his face down.

You were the one who initiated the kiss when the preacher said “you may now kiss the bride!”

Luckily during dinner you managed to chat a bit. You found out Leon was trying to become vault security. He didn’t have parents after losing them years ago during the chaos of the blight. And he likes dogs.

That was all well and good, but finally you asked the important question, “What's your sperm count?”

Leon choked on his drink. Immediately he was flustered, “I…um…”

“You know it's important we have kids. For the genetic stability of the vaults. Didn’t your vault doctor tell you this?” You pressed.

“I…yea..she did…” Leon was clearly knocked off his feet, “Just…wanted to get to know you a bit more…”

“Oh.” You had to remind yourself that he was leaving his vault. His friends and home were being taken from him to come to your vault. He was in over his head and the least you could do was be understanding.

Once the wedding was over, you took his hand and led him to your new living quarters. Leon was uncomfortable, anxious and very much not sure what to do. He listened and nodded along to what you were saying.

However, once everything was said and done, “Are…you ok?” You asked, seeing how closed off he was. 

“Yea…just…overwhelmed is all.” He responded, not meeting your eye, “can…we…take things slow?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “yea, i’d like that.”

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

I feel like it is only time I make a stoner fic🤗hope you enjoy!!

*tw*: use of marijuana, stoner thoughts(im so sorry😵‍💫), if there's any more pls lmk and I'll add them!

It was no secret amongst the school that sapnap smoked weed. He talked about, he posted on social media about ut, he even got caught once smoking it in the back parking lot.

So when my mind was desperate for a chill out moment, he was the perfect person to help. I messaged him in search of a good time.

Hey, do you think I could buy from you?

What are you looking for?

Quarter ounce

Meet me here

2848 hasbul drive

He set the date for tomorrow night at 6pm. I requested enough that I could use tomorrow as well as this weekend so when j went to the location, and saw his car I climbed in with the money.

"Hey you got the cash?" I nodded as I hand him the money in exchange for a green bag.

"Quarter ounce?" He nodded as I opened the door and returned to my vehicle. Before I could even open the door he was gone and my phone rang.

Let me know how you like it

I left the message opened and didn't bother with a reply as I got in my car and headed home.

Upon arriving I see that all the lights are off which is good because it means everyone's asleep. I soundlessly slip inside my room and pull out the bag along with my pipe. I proceed to pack it and grab my lighter.

The first hit always hits the hardest so I have to take a minute to not let my coughs get too loud.

After about 3 or 4 hits, I sit back for a minute and just stare at my lights which are colored red.

I wonder what it would feel like to be floating right now. I bet it would feel nice. I have to make sure to thank sapnap for getting me this weed.

Wow, sapnap is such a great guy, his hair is amazing, he's so fucking cute but I can't tell him that because he'd never feel the same way. I wonder what he's doing right now, I wonder if he's thinking of me.

As I continue to think about him, I just feel myself getting happier. I want to talk to him right now and be with him, I want him to be with me. He would make this experience so much better. I should call him and tell him.

I dont need to call him, I can see him right now, he's in the room with me. That's concerning how'd he get in here, oh shut up logic. Come here lover boy. And if that doesn't work.

*I was gonna wait til I was high to put genuine stoner thoughts but I have none and haven't smoked in a couple of days.*

The next day at school I'm pissed and it's known to everyone except a certain someone who can't keep his hands away from me.

"Hey, how'd you like the za?" I shoot him a side eye to which he furrows his brow.

"I bet you would know wouldn't you," I say as I shove past him.

"Why are you mad at me? I helped you out?" I scoff.

"Helped me out? Are you shitting me?" I turn my voice lower as I look around at on lookers. I grab his arm and pull him to the side of the hallway.

"You fucking laced it." His eyes go wide.

"What the fuck do you mean?" He asked bewildered.

"When I smoked it and started feeling it, all I saw was you. So what the fuck did you put in it?" He looks like he's seen a ghost or he's listening to someone speak gibberish.

"What do you mean all you saw was me?" He asks

"You, your face, your body, as if you were in the room next to me. And there was this weird feeling in my chest, my heart was pounding." He takes a breath, and then starts to... laugh.

I stare at him as if he's disappeared before my eyes.

"What the hell is so funny to you?" He chuckles a little before talking some calming breaths.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm done, I'm done" He coughs before continuing. I stare at him expectantly.

"I hate to inform you but thats not laced weed. You have a crush on me."

"Are you fucking stupid? I don't have a crush on you, you fucking laced that shit." He smirks before taking one step closer, making our bodies practically chest to chest.

"Its ok, I like you too. When you asked to buy from me I wasn't surprised but I was a little disappointed that that was all you wanted from me." I stare at him, shocked.

"No, i- I don't have- wait what? You like me?" He smiles and puts a hand on my hip.

"Yeah, I've liked you for a while and I've tried to flirt with you before." I think back to the math class I have with him.

"Wow, I'm an idiot." I look at him and he says nothing.

"You're supposed to disagree with me." He laughs.

"Sure thing, whatever you say." He smiles and we walk to class together.

[bang-and-a-blintz]

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER TWO - DEJA VU

Fandom: Dracula (2020)  

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)  

Rating: Mature  

Warnings: None  

Word Count: 1,999

Holy shit it was getting hot in here, Roxana thought as she wiped her face with the crisp white towel and then tossed it on the table with a sigh. Even though it was starting to freeze outside, her kitchen was scorching. Absently, she hoped that the pipes wouldn’t burst again, which had already happened twice this winter. 

All the food was prepped and ready for the guests that evening, she went through and turned up all the ovens so they’d be set by the time everyone would begin to arrive. Roxana glanced at the clock and then looked over the menu once more before grabbing her jacket and walking out back to smoke a cigarette. 

“Well this cold weather can kindly fuck right off.” She grumbled, fighting the wind to flick her lighter. After a few more clicks and curses, she succeeded and took a long drag. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes for a moment, leaning back against the back door.

It had been many long years of busting her ass to get to where Roxana was today: the proud owner and executive chef of her own thriving restaurant. She should feel carefree as usual. But there was just something off about this night, she couldn’t help but to feel on edge all day long and when she brushed it off earlier, she was unable to shake the intensity in which it grew. 

Thus the cigarette. Roxana usually tried to moderate her vices, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t chief down almost an entire pack already that day.

“Bitch I thought you quit smoking!” So much for a moment to herself.

Roxana turned to see her sous-chef walking towards her, all bundled up so that no inch of skin showed, and he was shivering quite dramatically all the while glaring daggers at her. “Look at you being on time! Guessing the streetcar froze up and left your cheap ass with getting a cab?” 

“Ha fucking ha.” He burrowed even further into his down jacket and impatiently waited for her to move away from the door, “That streetcar was packed up tighter than Cooter’s on a game night, baby, I nearly had to fight someone’s granpaw to get up in there. Honestly now, what could be so urgent? He ninety. Well? Are you gonna fucking get out the way or what, Rocks? I’ll be no use to you with frozen fingers, I’ll tell you what!”

She chuckled and tossed the butt in the trash before gallantly opening the door. He wasted no time rushing in and placing his hands close to the ovens. Al Patrone had been her kitchen partner at their previous job and if it had not been for his endlessly entertaining sass, she would have never made it in that horrid place. They became thick as thieves from years of bickering back and forth over the fires.

So it was no surprise that when Roxana told Al her plans to start her a new restaurant, he immediately pick up his knives and followed her out. Even though he had been with the establishment for nearly a decade, Al didn’t bat an eye when he gave them the finger and left.  The owner was a xenophobic and misogynistic piece of shit anyways. Fuck him. 

The idea was presented to her, Roxana somehow ended up in the right place at the right time, because that’s how these things usually happen. While she was throwing back tequila shots at the Monteleone, she met some famous actor - not that she gave the damn, his name was Tom…or was it George? - they chatted the evening away. The next day she invited him to the restaurant she had worked to show him some local cuisine. 

Even though he was positively salivating over her seared pompano, the man constantly bemoaned to her about the lack of small and intimate restaurants in New Orleans. He wasn’t wrong. Most of the fancy to-do joints all sat three to six hundred people a shift and seemed to have a turnover rate higher than a pornstar. 

The guy basically wanted a butler and in-home chef, but not actually be at his home. To all the peasants working in the food industry, the idea was laughable.

“Oh and how would I keep up the bills with serving just one table a night, huh?” She had huffed and signaled for another round of shots. “Seems like some whimsically ludicrous pipe dream to me.”

He had looked her dead in the eye, suddenly sober enough for the moment, “If you can cook the way you do in this shit hole, then darlin’ I can only imagine what you could whip up when you’ve got nothing holding you back. I know people who would pay the building’s rent in a single night after eating just one of your meals. I’m fucking serious.”

Who was she to deny that sort of opportunity?

Roxana had gotten a steal of a deal on the building and simply fell in love with the neighborhood. It was in the Irish Channel down closer to the river with a breathtaking view of the Crescent City Connection bridge. The property was an old Spanish colonial styled building with dark red stucco that faded in areas revealing the old brick beneath. High white arches lined the front entrance, the gas lanterns flickered shadows against the ceiling and danced when the large canopy fans spun lazily. 

It seemed to almost slink into the darkness of the night, hiding in plain sight amongst the other homes on the street. The large and ominous oak trees stood guard out front, their branches were natural curtains and their roots fenced in the broken sidewalks like a front yard.

The interior was a stark contrast with light gray brick walls with natural reds scattered across, aspen wood flooring, and industrial piping that lined the walls with vintage light bulbs. Very bright and open in a comforting coffee-shop sort of feel.

There was just one large black table that severed the room in half. The chairs assembled around the exterior of the rectangle while the inside had a long walkway down to the front. Similar to hibachi-style but instead of the large grill top, there was an empty space that allowed Roxana and Al to personally serve each dish directly. 

In the back, the kitchen gleamed and sparkled, the burners all neatly arranged on the large island in the middle of the room reflected the lights above and glimmered like diamonds. Roxana would meticulously scrub everything down every night before finally closing so it would always remain spotless. 

It was simple and elegant, intimate and relaxed. She put her blood, sweat, and tears into the remodel and hoped beyond all hope that it wouldn’t all have been for nothing. Roxana had a strange sort of optimism about the project, something she had never felt before, and so she decided on naming her restaurant Sanguine. 

True to her friend’s word, he made a few calls to some of his famous friends and told them to come down. One thing led to another and it blew up. These prominent and wealthy clients started to come in droves, they craved the exclusiveness, and they would happily pay beaucoup money for it. It all worked out flawlessly.

They decided on hiring just a hostess and valet, while Al helped Roxana run the kitchen and service. She took good care of her employees and in turn they treated her with the utmost respect, making sure that everything was impeccably done and ran smoothly.

That was three years ago and business was still very much booming.

“Are you gonna stop daydreaming and help me whip up these fucking cakes?” Al shouted over the music that he insisted on blasting full volume as soon as he put on his white double-breast chef jacket. 

“Oh calm yourself before your sweat ruins my recipe.”

Al’s eye grew wide in offense, “My sweat would give this bland shit some real flavor, honey.” 

Roxana barked out a laugh and grabbed a bowl. The two friends began to work together in easy synchronization. Shortly after, the hostess named Angeline peeked into the kitchen to tell them that the guests had begun to arrive and then returned to start seating. 

Al finally turned down the tunes to a reasonable level for a restaurant, but there was still a ringing noise echoing in Roxana’s ear. She shook her head and pulled the amuse-bouche out of the oven. 

They were having a smaller table than normal this evening with only five people, some local politicians that she had served before - the mayor, his wife, his popular defense attorney buddy, and two other names that she did not recognize.  

While they put all the finishing touches on the first two courses, the chefs could hear the absent chattering and boisterous laughter of their guests. However, one voice in particular caught their attention with its luscious baritone.

“Well hello there.” It was slightly muted behind the walls but the British accent was unmistakable. Al looked over to Roxana and waggled his eyebrows, she laughed and waved him off. 

“Good evening, sir, you must be Mr. Balaur. We’ve been expecting you, please come in!” Angeline’s cheerful voice lilted at a slightly higher pitch than normal. 

Al elbowed Roxana, “You know what that means, baby girl, we finna have a looker!”

She wiped away a smudge on the plate before nodding in satisfaction at the finished product, “What about that frenchman with the yacht last week you were schmoozing?”

“Rocks, please, that boy was twink-city-slams and should’ve stayed over at Tulane by them frats.” Al finished decorating with a little dusting of paprika on the remoulade and sighed dramatically, “I have moved on to bigger and better. Just need to pop down to Oz and find myself a daddy.” 

“What you need is therapy.”

“I already have a therapist.” Roxana rose a brow, her smile crooked goofily at her eclectic friend’s antics. Al popped a hip and gave her a look over his shoulder, “And her name is tequila, baby.”

She laughed openly and smacked him on the arm, “Alright, alright, let’s get this dinner going, you scoundrel.”

They filled their arms with plates and made their way towards the dining room.

With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder and louder. Roxana frowned and tried stretching her shoulders to shake it off, but no avail. The two turned the corner and placed the plates down in front of each guest, then took a step back to politely let the clients quiet their conversations. 

As the chatter died down, Roxana could still only hear the roaring sound that permeated the cavity of her brain. Her arms lit up with goosebumps. What the actual fuck is happening? Her mind was frantic as she looked around at the faces of those dining, a chill crept up her spine in anticipation, and the hairs on the back of her neck shot straight up when her eyes met the sight before her.

Then everything was silent. Save for her heartbeat, which suddenly spiked as if she took off for a marathon. Thump, thump, thump, thumpity. 

“Oh fuck.” She didn’t even hear herself whisper.

But it caught the man’s attention and drew it from the woman seated next to him, his head tilted and ears perked at the sound of the beating drum within Roxana’s chest. 

Slowly, he turned his gaze towards her with a lazy smirk that almost immediately slipped from his face as hers came into focus. His jaw dropped slightly, gaping like a fish out of water for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed and his dark eyes softened in wonder. “Agatha?”

[jawnjendes]

shawn meets... | sapphire(3)

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)(continuation/spin off of goth gf)

AN: SPOOKY N SAD AT THE END. tryna get all the spooky out before @fourtristattoos spooky fest ends!! 

***let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

previous chapter (this did not appear in the tags, so pls read if you havent done so already)

sapphire’s blog | sapphire’s playlist | masterlist

Sam Doyle was five foot eleven inches of pure, Irish sex. There was no other way to put it, really. He wasn’t exactly great looking, but the sheer amount of confidence and chaotic energy he had upon arriving to Sapphire’s mansion was enough to get Shawn reeled in as well.

He had sparkling blue eyes, a man bun, and a decent amount of scruff. He was just how Sapphire had described him: clad in all back, several tattoos going up and down his arms, and very broody. He was a mystery, and it was like a bus that Shawn was hit with the realization that he actually does have a type: the mysterious, brooding loners who wear all black. Sapphire was the odd one out in the group of people Shawn has been interested throughout the last few years.

"Nice to meet you, Shawn," Sam said in a tone that matched his outfit. He had a strong grip as he shook hands with the singer. "Sippy wasn't lying when she said you're a looker." He winked.

"More than a looker," Sapphire said, leaning against the Irishman and hugging his arm. "He's a dream."

Shawn was not the type to get so flustered, but that was before he met Sapphire. He swore this entire house was changing his state of mind.

"Stop," he said in a voice more docile than expected. "You're way too nice."

"Just calling it as it is," Sam told him with a grin.

Sam Doyle kept Sapphire Lilith to himself for the first two days he was at the mansion. The two of them were holed up in the pink bedroom, not caring who heard or saw what was going on. Shawn had no part in it, he wasn’t the center of attention, and it made him feel some kind of way. He could have left the estate altogether, but Sapphire sent him periodical texts reminding him to stay. He couldn’t bring himself to disobey her.

There was no choice but to wander. Shawn used the gym as often as he pleased, mostly to get rid of the frustration. Sometimes he lounged in the library, find all sorts of books to get lost in. It was actually quite pleasant, even though there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that this whole situation was just a little weird. The voice sounded like Andrew, who actually called him.

"So, we're going back to Toronto tomorrow," he told his client. "Should I call a car for you?"

How is it that Shawn literally forgot he had been in London for work things… in the middle of his break. No, he would not be going to Canada today or tomorrow or anytime soon. He tells Andrew just as much.

"Why not?" he asked, clearly annoyed. "We have things to do before you get back to recording!"

"I'm supposed to be on vacation right now, I don't want to work," Shawn said, glancing up at the ceiling as he heard a rhythmic banging noise.

"You're still hanging around that socialite, aren't you?" Andrew guessed. "What, is she paying you to stay with her?"

Shawn scoffed. "No. I like her, and she likes me. I'm well taken care of here."

"For now. What about when she's done with you?"

The banging sound persisted, so Shawn walked out into the hallway, phone pressed to his ear. Walking up a flight of stairs, he realized he was getting annoyed as well. He didn't want to leave the Lilith Manor anytime soon, why didn't Andrew get that?

"When she's done, she's done," Shawn said, despite the fact that the girl in question had another person in her bedroom and he wasn't allowed to get in on it. "It's nothing serious, anyway."

"If it's not serious, then why are you so keen on staying with her?" Andrew asked. "Look, I heard about what happened with you and Brian. He's sorry about-"

Something went off, and Shawn snapped. "If he's sorry, he can come tell me himself!"

Andrew was silent for a moment. "I don't know what exactly happened, but you need to get it together. Are you really going to let one argument with your best friend stop you from going home?"

"Look, you're not my mom, so back off. I'll go home on my own terms."

"Hey-"

Shawn ended the call and sighed. He leaned against the wall, bumping the back of his head against it. He wasn't staying here because he was mad at Brian. That's stupid. It's petty. He was staying at the Lilith estate because he genuinely wanted to. Sapphire was kind and generous, and really unlike anyone he’s ever been attracted to.

He really couldn’t remember the last time he was into someone so feminine. So charming. Someone with such goddess-like energy… but god and goddess wasn’t the right way to put it.

It had gotten awfully quiet in the vicinity as Shawn wandered while on the phone. He peered into the room he was standing outside of and… Well, there was a time in his life where he wouldn’t question the sight of a skull or pentagram. Now, it was different and a little jarring.

The room was pink, just like any other. This one was decorated with a neon light in the shape of a pentagram hanging on the wall. Large blades with pink handles were hanging on either side of the gram, and a goat skull was hanging above it. There was a little table against the wall underneath all that. Shawn stepped closer, finding a little bowl and a closed pocket knife on the surface. He felt the hairs on his arms and back of his neck stand up, and a bizarre chill went down his spine. There was a slight burn under where his necklace hung and he looked down at his chest.

Maybe a pentagram and a rosary in the same room wasn’t a good mix after all.

Shawn turned on his heel, intending to leave the room and act like he saw nothing, but someone was standing in the doorway.

“Lookin’ for something?” asked Sam.

Okay, he was literally on the floor above with Sapphire. How could he move so fast and track Shawn down so easily?

Also, why did Shawn feel like he had been caught with his hand down his pants? He was just wandering, which he was allowed to do. He couldn’t help the heat rising on his face, or the stammering of his words as Sam’s blue eyes stared him down.

“Well? Spit it out, pet,” he pressed, but he didn’t sound playful anymore. His eyes got darker, literally. The irises turned black for a split second before returning to their brilliant blue.

It made Shawn’s heart pound in his ears. Did he even dare mention what he just saw? Did he even actually see that? He didn’t blink, did he?

“I was on the phone,” he finally replied, face heating up even more at the nickname. “Wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I think I got lost.”

“Best to get lost somewhere else, then.” Sam trailed his eyes down Shawn’s body. “You need to get rid of that thing around your neck.”

He looked down at his rosary. “My grandmother gave it to me.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Huh. I guess you’re not as obedient as Sippy said.” He gestured for the other man to follow him.

On most occasions, Shawn wasn’t so docile. He would have asked more about this room and the problem with his rosary if it weren’t for the headspace he had been fucked into. He knew when and how to get out of it, but it was always looming on his shoulders. It just took the charm of some pretty people to get it out, and so far, that only pretty person was Sapphire.

He followed Sam up to Sapphire’s bedroom. Shawn ended up watching them fuck with his hands tied behind his back. It was a good way to forget about the black eyes.

~

The very next day, Sam had left the property, and apparently without warning. It was the first time Shawn had seen Sapphire break her bubbly demeanor.

“Come with me,” she said to Shawn after breakfast.

Like a lost puppy, he followed her down to the gym. Sapphire took off her silk robe to reveal the sports bra and leggings she had on. She approached the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“Hold it for me,” she commanded as she cracked her knuckles.

Shawn stood behind the bag, mildly weary. “Shouldn’t you put on some - oof!”

Sapphire punched the bag once, hard enough to make it lurch into Shawn’s body. He didn’t question her methods anymore and silently held the bag.

She was always the one doing the grabbing, pulling, and pinning down, yet only now was Shawn realizing just how strong Sapphire was. Every blow she delivered to the bag made Shawn’s stance against it falter. She didn’t even have any use for sports tape or gloves. Her bare, manicured hands and a crazed look in her eyes was all that was needed for her to get her frustrations out.

After her workout, Sapphire requested to be left alone. Shawn might as well have disappeared. He would have if he wasn’t so needy for her attention. It was like crack. Sweet, baby pink crack.

He did leave her alone for a few hours. But he knew she wasn’t feeling okay, and he didn’t want to let her wallow in it. He found her in one of the living rooms, curled up on the couch with her phone in hand. Sapphire was draped under a fluffy white blanket, the picture of sadness.

Shawn went to sit on the floor in front of the couch. He reached over and stroked the side of her face. Sapphire made a tiny noise at the touch, picking her head up off the pillow. When her glittery eyes opened, Shawn was not expecting to see bright red irises. He recoiled a little bit, remembering the recurring dream he had along with Sam’s black-to-blue eyes. Still, Shawn didn’t move his hand away..

“Contacts?” he guessed, feeling weary for some reason.

She nodded, still looking upset. “What do you want?”

“You’ve been tense all day, honey.”

Sapphire had a little pout on her cute little lips. She wasn’t as stubborn as other girls that Shawn has dated, and she sat up after a moment, patting the space next to her.

“Lovers don’t mean shit, right?” she said when Shawn was sat next to her. Her voice was oddly soft and innocent.

He blinked. “Define lover?”

“I don’t understand the concept of love,” she said. “I understand companions. Friends. Sex. All of that for fun. I enjoy the company of others, even if I don’t sleep with them. I enjoy the company of my staff, I don’t sleep with any of them, nor do I intend to.”

“Well,” Shawn said, “you care about them, right?”

Sapphire nodded.

“You want your friends to be happy, live their best life and everything?”

“Yes.”

“That’s love.”

She paused for a moment, scrunching her brows. “Well, I understand that! It’s just… going on dates? Holding hands? You can do that with your friends. Spending the rest of your life with one person? I can’t see that.”

Shawn understood now. “Oh, you don’t feel romantic attraction? Not even for Sam?”

“No. He and I have been together for years, and it’s always been open. We’re each other’s best friends, tied for life. I was something else before I met him.”

“People come and go from your life, no matter what. And you’re always, always changing. Nothing’s permanent.”

The blonde looked down, a pensive look on her face.

“Or…” Shawn trailed off. “Has, has Sam hurt you? Is he not good to you?”

Sapphire looked up at him. “He and I are fine. She - I love spoiling him. And we have all seen what he’s like in bed. Like I said, it’s for life. I just don’t love him the way a wife would love her husband.”

“Does he know that?”

“I’m sure he does. He does this a lot, just runs off whenever he pleases without so much as leaving a note. It hurts a bit when he does that.” She paused. “I even have to send Kat to see if he ran off with my Tesla! That thing was custom made!”

So what’s the problem then, other than Sam’s departures are painful?

“He’ll come back,” Shawn reassured, “if he cares, he’ll come back.”

Sapphire scoffed. “In a hundred years perhaps. Fuck’s sake, why can’t this stupid little brain realize she’s being used! Stupid little boyfriend doesn’t love or care! He just fucks!”

Shawn wasn’t sure what she was talking about, and he was too afraid to ask. Not to mention, Sapphire just confirmed she was okay with just being friends with Sam. So he tried a different approach.

“Why don’t we forget about all of this for a while, eh?” he asked gently, offering a smile.

He really should have started with that.

~

There’s animalistic sex, and then there’s whatever that was. It was hot, sure. But Shawn had a few too many scratch marks right where his heart was and nowhere else on his body. Well, apart from the restraints around his wrists that kept him bound to the headboard. Sapphire was especially harsh this time, and all she did was ride him.

She made all sorts of noises that probably wouldn’t normally come from a typical human. A type of guttural growling that didn’t match her sweet voice bubbled out of her throat several times, and she didn’t say anything to her partner. There were no words of praise or coos of his name. Just… borderline demonic sounds.

They were both sweating by the end of it, and Sapphire’s noises sounded more like herself, but distressed. She whimpered like she was in pain as she rolled off of Shawn’s body. Her body collapsed next to him and she curled up into a ball, panting softly.

It worried him. She was never like this after sex, had something gone wrong? He turned his head, watching her body shake slightly, and he tugged on his restraints.

“Saph? Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked, but received no answer. “Sapphire, hey. I need you to untie me.”

She hiccuped and listened to him. She sat up, keeping her head down, probably knowing that Shawn was watching her face, as she reached over and untied the rope from his wrists. As soon as he was free, Shawn sat up and scooped the blonde into his arms, gently shushing her.

“I know, it was really intense,” he soothed. “You really got into character, eh? Those contacts give you power or something.”

Again, she didn’t respond. Sapphire merely leaned into his chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. Shawn planned on holding her for as long as she wanted, but even that was interrupted.

A rapid knock sounded on the door, followed by Kat’s voice. “Ms. Lilith?”

“You don’t have to-” Shawn was about to say, but Sapphire was out of bed in the blink of an eye.

She picked her robe up off the ground and put it on before opening the door a crack. Shawn sheepishly got back under the covers, shielding his modesty. He heard the two women speak to each other in hushed tones, and he noticed that Kat was panicked. Her composure was nowhere to be seen. Then Sapphire gasped.

“Oh… oh, I see.” She closed the door once again and then went to her wardrobe.

“What happened?” Shawn asked, watching her as she stripped off her robe and pulled on a pink nightgown.

“Nothing, darling,” she replied, keeping her back to him as she pulled out another piece of fabric from her wardrobe. It was sheer and black, another robe. She put it on, and it trailed along the floor as she swiftly went back to the door. Then she turned to him and quickly blew him a kiss. “Just get some sleep, alright? I have things to tend to.”

The last thing he heard in the hall was Kat scolding her employer for “changing clothes at a time like this.” He sat there on the bed, naked and confused. That weird chill went down his spine, like when he was in the pentagram room. Some type of anxiety formed in his chest as well, something was telling him to deny Sapphire’s request.

Shawn got dressed as quietly as he could, trying to make out the voices out in the hallway. He pressed his ear to the door, and heard Kat’s heels come to a stop. Just as Shawn placed his hand on the knob, he heard Sapphire’s voice right outside the door.

“Darling?”

He answered the call, meeting Sapphire’s blue eyes once more. Her face was full of worry, and she was playing with the fuzzy ends of her sleeves.

Wait. Her eyes are blue.

“Your-” Shawn was about to say.

“Darling, your friend came over,” Sapphire said over him. “And, er, there’s been an accident.”

Her eyes are blue.

“What?” he asked, his mind being pulled in every direction. “What? Wait, I- what friend?”

“Red hair.”

“Brian?” He and the team left for Toronto yesterday. There’s no way he could be here. “Where is he?”

Shawn was about to step out of the room, but Sapphire placed her hands on his chest. She still had that concern on her face, and it wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“There was an accident,” she repeated.

“What happened?”

But Sapphire didn’t answer. As if on cue, she stepped to the side to reveal Kat, who had been in the hallway. Her face was much more composed than how she sounded a few minutes ago. She stepped forward, looking Shawn directly in the eyes.

“Your friend was let in earlier tonight,” she explained calmly. “It was presumed he was looking for you. He was walking up one of the flights of stairs, and he slipped. He fell backwards, into a glass table.”

“What the fuck? Is he okay? Where is he?” Shawn made another move to leave the room, but both women stopped him.

Kat continued, keeping the same cool tone. “He somehow crashed into the table neck first. An ambulance was called and is on the way, but I couldn’t find a pulse. I’m sorry, Mr. Mendes.”

All the directions his mind was going in suddenly halted. Only one thought that passed through his suddenly foggy brain: Her eyes are blue.

next chapter

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx @chillingbythesea @theprivatesmutacc @iloveshawnieboi