#Sometimes a girl just wants to drink her coffee in peace

[oculusxcaro]

Send a headcanon you have about our muses’ relationship and I’ll tell you if I approve of it or not: - Tess is one of Khare's best tippers which is a good thing because sometimes she just wants to pull a "Denny's customer" and sit in a booth drinking lots of coffee.

Send a headcanon you have about our muses’ relationship and I’ll tell you if I approve of it or not.

Yes! I love this headcanon so much, Tess being such a good tipper when all she wants to do is sit in a booth enjoying cup after cup of coffee?? Khare would love whenever Tess came to visit even if it didn't mean getting such good tips; being the 'Denny's customer' type is ideal since all it only takes a moment to provide refills whenever that cup starts running low. Tess would automatically get the best booth where it's nice and quiet, well away from any nuisance and noise. Just an all-round chill customer who is a pleasure to serve! 👌

[butteronabun]

i just want you to take me where your heart is

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader highschool au.

overview: and who could possibly be the golden boy’s type?

wc: 2k

notes: imagine diluc with his hair down in this one. and also. diluc’s father hasn’t d-worded in this au so he’s the happy diluc we all know and love before shit hit the fan ( we still love him even after shit hit the fan tho )

Diluc Ragnvindr is prim and proper. Chivalrous and well–mannered. The star athlete of the Favonious Birds. Intelligent, a leader, and a great speaker. 

And of course, he’s every girl’s dream guy. 

“. . . And yet, he’s still single,” Kaeya remarks with a smirk, and his friends around him laugh in unison. 

Currently, he’s eating lunch with them in the campus’ outdoor park — a place of tranquility where some students prefer to hang. Instead of being involved in the hustle and bustle of what goes on in their cafeteria, be it your average food fights or impromptu musicals incited by a certain twin–braided man, said outdoor park was a better option for these lads to unwind.

“You know, I used to think that he and Jean would look good together,” a friend of Kaeya says, and they all turn to him. “She’s just like him: elegant and grades conscious. Takes part in student governments and volunteers to school events. Plus, she’s drop dead gorgeous! With her brilliant blue eyes and smooth blond hair, oh, if I was Diluc - I would not hesitate to date her!”

“Nah, I think Lumine is better,” They all glance next to their right. “She’s sporty, and she can definitely keep up with Diluc. She aces her tests without any difficulty, despite doing a part–time job every night with her brother in a nearby coffee shop, and it’s rumored that she makes the best drinks! Moreover, she’s a beauty. That’s why she keeps on receiving loads of love letters during the Windblume Festival every year, so it will not be surprising if she’ll be getting them again!”

Ah, yes. The Windblume Festival is fast approaching—now that January is about to end, in the next two weeks, Brightcrown High School’s air will surely be filled with nothing but endless romance.

Kaeya gazes up above, where a giant tree shadows their figures with its bright green leaves. The sunlight filters through the gaps and he basks into this moment of peace. He then adds playfully, “And Diluc will be busy tidying up his locker once more, because it will be filled with chocolates and letters.”

“What?! Does he even eat them? Tell him that he can donate, you know!”

Kaeya huffs, “My brother won’t even give me a piece, what makes you think he’ll hand you one?” 

He remembers the time that Diluc had been so overwhelmed by the plethora of sweets, and yet seemed so appreciative about it. Father was just proud of the older son’s popularity. Kaeya offered to help him consume them all as a joke, but Diluc shook his head vigorously, saying that he shouldn’t, and that “they all worked hard for this”, and it was right that he only eat them.

How adorable of him, really.

Plus, Diluc even read the letters one by one. No matter how cringe or sickeningly sweet they were, Diluc read them all. And Kaeya wasn’t even shocked that there was no judgment in his face. 

Diluc was just grateful for the gifts. Bashful, indeed, and sometimes he was not sure what to feel, but he was grateful.

“So, Diluc. Who will it be? Jean or Lumine?” Kaeya questions with a grin that afternoon, when the Windblume Festival is finally in full swing. 

Diluc raises his head from the paper he’s answering — it’s a survey given to him by one of the juniors for their research subject — and frowns. “What brought this on? Why am I suddenly choosing between two friends?”

“Oh come on, you weren’t even listening!” Kaeya pouts, before sitting on a nearby desk. 

After exploring the premises for some snacks and attractions, the brothers decided to stay inside an empty classroom for a while. They can hear some cheers from the outside, loud declarations of love and squeals from the majority, that surely Diluc thinks would be a delight for Kaeya, but has opted to accompany him instead.

“I was.” Diluc purses his lips, and hears laughter echoing through the halls as students run and get chased by disciplinary officers. “You and your friends were talking about the girls and I. I just don’t understand why you want me to choose. And be careful, you might fall. Don’t move so much.”

“Cooome on, Diluc,” Kaeya groans as he leans, “We’re sixteen, aren’t we? Father says we’re at that age, after all. By that, I meant, where we’re all supposed to be dating and courting?”

Diluc feels his cheeks slightly heat up from the words that escaped from Kaeya’s mouth. He returns to his duty of answering the survey. ( As if he needed to, when he was already done. ) “And I told you countless times that I’m not interested. Need I remind you that I don’t have the time for it. You know I still have to prepare for college, and that I have to keep an eye on my varsity scholarship, and—“

“Yadda, yadda, yadda——“

“Don’t yadda me, Kaeya. That’s just how it is.”

“You seriously aren’t interested?” Kaeya prods.

Diluc shoots him a firm stare. “Absolutely positive.”

And Kaeya sticks his tongue before hopping from the desk and making his way to the door. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.” Diluc watches his retreating back. “I’ll make sure to find you a lady, and it’ll be your type, and you’ll fall in love.”

Kaeya pulls the door open. He confidently says, “It’ll be inevitable, Diluc. Inevitable!”

A small smile creeps its way to Diluc’s lips, finding this all amusing. “Then I wish you the best of luck.”

Kaeya huffs, not liking that Diluc seems so smug and unbothered by it, then leaves.

Diluc waits for a while. And waits. 

And waits, until he blinks, checks his survey, before sighing heavily. 

A brilliant shade of red coats his pale cheeks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Dating. Courting. The type of lady Diluc likes? Yeah. Diluc already has found his type. 

( Kaeya doesn’t have to know yet. He hates lying, but it’s too soon. Maybe someday. If Diluc can face his feelings first. )

So, hear, hear! He’s not missing out, in spite of what his friends say.

This person is not what everyone expects; it’s not the formal and polite Jean who can deliver a speech eloquently, nor the radiant and loyal Lumine that they want to push toward his direction.

Instead. . .it’s someone else.

And that someone else dropped a bowl of soup to Principal Varka’s white slacks. That someone else triggered the anger of a certain math teacher because she climbed the roof so carelessly during class to fly a kite. That someone else got into detention and instead of writing I’ll be good from now on one hundred times, spent the day with the others in that session to tell ghost stories.

That someone else was you, who wasn’t like Jean or Lumine. That someone else was you—the you, who was his exact opposite, and yet managed to capture his heart. 

You are one of Mond High’s known troublemakers, and apparently, he has fallen victim to your charms.

Maybe it began when you were just snickering with your buddies in the library despite the librarian‘s persistent shushing. He was solving his quadratic formula worksheets back then, and he was impressed that even if you were fooling around, you were in the library to actually learn more about the cardiovascular system, with the help of a fellow friend. 

(“I will be proud to say that the one that carries the blood away from the heart is. . . arteries!”

“You’re right!”

“Yay!!”

“Shh!”) 

Or maybe it began when you witnessed that one student who humiliated himself by accidentally slipping on the wet floor in the cafeteria, and everyone sans Diluc laughed.  Then you came to his rescue, marching in the middle with all the attention on you. 

You didn’t offer your hand. 

But you purposefully slipped instead, and even had the most embarrassing fall. The cafeteria became noisier because of you, and Diluc, baffled at first, found himself chuckling soon after.

Actually, no. 

He didn’t fall in love with you during those times. These were the times in his life that led to this one very moment—

When the Favonious Birds lost the tournament, Diluc was sulking in the playground, all by himself. He took the blame despite Kaeya and his friends denying it, but he knew better. If Diluc had just made it quickly to the ring, their team could’ve been victorious and brought the trophy home.

But alas, it was just an if. It didn’t happen.

Then, something wet drops in his hair. Then his arm. And nose. It was about to rain, and Diluc just grunted, not caring one bit. He was sure Adelinde would make a fuss about it, or his father would pester him for his carelessness, but he wasn’t in the mood to leave his spot just yet.

Let the rain wash away his sorrows.

Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. 

“Don’t match with the gloomy weather now.”

Diluc slowly lifted his head, wondering who spoke and what covered his pathetic and hunched form that was wallowing in despair. And his eyes grew wide when he saw you, almost bending with an umbrella in hand, sheltering you and him from the incoming downpour.

You smiled down at him, “There it is. Keep your head up, King! Your crown is falling.” 

And Diluc’s heart skipped a beat the same time a thunder rumbled from the distance. “W–what. . . ?”

You continued, “I don’t know what got you all so sad, but everything will be fine soon! I’m sure of it! After all, once the rain passes, there will be a rainbow!” Then, you grabbed his cold and even bigger hand, and Diluc, at that split second, felt the static. You didn’t even react. But your hand was warm, and Diluc’s chest was, too. 

Dumbfounded, he let you guide his fingers. It only came to him long after that he was gripping a metal handle. “Have my umbrella! I hope this will make your day a little better, and if it doesn’t. . . well, at least I tried. But I have to go now!”

You quickly put the hood over your head when the rain grew stronger. Diluc, concerned over your well–being, finally regained his composure to protest. “But what about you— hey. . . !”

He watched you run and wave, bidding farewell. “You don’t have to return it to me! It’s all yours! I really have to go, so see you, maybe? Bye!”

“But. . . !”

And Diluc. . . Diluc could catch you if he wanted. He could sprint and return the umbrella to its rightful owner, but he didn’t. 

Instead, he remained in his position. 

And his heart— oh, his heart. His heart couldn’t stop pounding that day.

You are Diluc’s first love. 

That is established. 

The thing is, this is a secret. No one knows yet. Just him.

He’s never felt this towards anyone before. You are his first.

( And hopefully the last. )

You’re different from everyone else. You’re different from him. You have your own unique methods of doing things. You have your own way of paving your path. You are the artist to your own canvas; the director of your own film.

You are like the sun. You brighten everyone’s day with your presence, and you also shine, because Diluc can’t keep his eyes off of you whenever you’re in the vicinity.

He knows that this is really an unexpected outcome – him, who was definitely out of your league and vice versa, catching feelings for someone like you.

( Someone like you who is free in life, and Diluc wants to feel that, even just for a bit, with you. )

But like before, all he can do is merely daydream and wonder about the what–ifs. What will it be like to be your friend? Will he experience all the shenanigans that you ensue? Will he also fly a kite with you? Will he get into detention?

Yet this is unbecoming. Improper. Inappropriate for someone like him—for the eldest son of the Ragnvindrs and for the next heir of the winery. He can’t indulge into lighthearted affairs or mischief. He’s supposed to be responsible and disciplined. A man of propriety.

So all he can ever do is have these thoughts. Just thoughts. He has more important matters to attend to, like college applications, training, lessons in handling the in winery business. . . 

And . . . there’s no way that you’ll approach him again, right? 

Diluc knows to himself that can do it instead, you know. He can approach you if he must, but . . . he’s just so shy. 

And a lot of people are always around you. So who is he to burst your bubble, when you seem so finally content with your life?

Diluc peeks from the open windows and sees couples holding hands and sharing kisses. Briefly, he imagines what it would be like to experience romantic love during Windblume.

He feels his cheeks steam again. 

Kaeya will surely have a field day once he sees his older brother being lovesick like this.

You really are one of Mond High’s troublemakers. And it’s not only because you prank your friends or piss off the teachers, but you make it hard for him to focus. 

Just thinking of you never fails to make his heart perform somersaults.

He is Diluc Ragnvindr. Prim and proper. Chivalrous and well–mannered. The star athlete of the Favonious Birds. Intelligent, a leader, and a great speaker. 

He is not every girl’s dream guy. 

Because unfortunately, the girl he likes doesn’t even see him in a romantic light.

[ghosty-writes-23]

After Office Hours. Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: NSFW Content, Established Relationship, !UNEDITED!, Soft!Dom!Leon, Age Gap (both Leon and the reader are in their late 20’s) Taboo Relationship, Professor x Student, Power Dynamic, Pet names (Sweetheart, Darling, Good Girl.) Praise, Protected Sex, Spanking, Fingering, Desk sex.

Pairing: ID!Professor!Leon + Student!Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature

Summary: Class is now in session....

Word Count: 3.6k

Ghosty's Notes: Hello beautiful people, I am back with other oneshot from the polls results, which I wanted to say a massive thank you to everybody that voted, this oneshot was based off an old JJK oneshot that didn't do so well so if you see a name that isn't Leon's, I'm sorry I have tried to edit it as much as I can and may have missed something.

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty :] ❤️🦝

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Sunlight filtered softly through the thin almost sheer curtains, painting the bedroom in a warm hue of orange, yellow and gold. The sound of the busy morning traffic people making their daily commutes to morning part time job, classes or even full-time job was almost mute in the cozy upstairs apartment.

Where the only sound could be hear was Y/n faint snores in the bedroom as she slept in soundly and her boyfriend Leon who had just recently showered was downstairs preparing coffee for the both of them, it was quiet and peaceful in the apartment.

Y/n face was buried in Leon’s pillow ever since he had left their shared bed, her hair was a tousled mess from tossing and turning last night as well as Leon playing with it until she feel asleep. Leon always found her ‘messy bed hair’ adorable even when she would whine and protest saying she looked like she had been pulled though a hedge backwards and upside down by her ankle.

“Wake up sleepyhead.” Leon softly whispered as he walked into their shared bedroom, holding a cup of her favourite coffee, Y/n could hear his footsteps coming closer towards the bed causing a soft unintelligible whine to leave her lips as she pulled the blanket over her head in resistance. Leon chuckled at the gesture as he placed the mug of coffee down and gently tugged the blanket down from her face. “there’s my girl, I made your favourite.” Leon says trying to convince her to come out of the blanket and drink her coffee before it gets too cold.

But Y/ was stubborn and kept the blanket over her head. Causing Leon to playfully sigh before a small smirk comes onto his face. “Well since your not going to put the blanket down I guess I will just have to eat the breakfast I made for you downstairs then.” Leon says in a joking manner, but it was enough to get her to drop the blanket. Y/n eyes fluttered open but she quickly squinted them at the brightness of the room.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She mumbled her voice was raspy from sleep, but Leon just chuckled and shock his head but there was still that teasing smirk on his lips. “oh, I will sweetheart.” Leon says causing her to groan and roll onto her side but there was a smile on her face. But soon she sat up in bed and reached over and grabbed the ug Leon had prepared earlier, she took a small sip and hummed softly just the way she liked it.

“Your too good to me, you know that.” y/n said as she sipped her coffee, Leon looked at her with a gentle smile and shook his head. “No Princess I am the lucky one I mean your willing to sneak around another’s back just so we can be together, and I know the last week has been stressful because of exams for you but I want to take care of you even if its as something as little as making you a cup of coffee in the morning.” Leon spoke making Y/n heart swell with affection.

“Your too sweet sometimes.” Y/n says with a small, embarrassed blush on her cheeks but there was some truth in Leon’s words, she had been so busy with exam this week and she had been sneaking around with him since he was her law and criminal justice professor, but soon she was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Leon’s voice again.

“now come on, you need to get dressed then I’ll drop you off at the library just before the campus.” Leon spoke and Y/n nodded and pushed the blankets off her body, she grabbed her phone and looked at the time and saw she had a message, she knew it was from her best friend asking if they are meeting at the library before class because she needed Y/n help with some homework, since both of them had a few classes before Leon’s in the afternoon. After replying to her best friend’s message, she made quick work of getting dressed and gather her books for classes.

*Later that Afternoon.*

The Lecture hall way buzzing with chatter and laughter as student’s talked about what they plan on doing in this weekend, who’s frats were throwing parties and gossiping about who slept with who or any other drama that was circling around the campus this week, As Y/n shuffled into her seat she let out exhausted yawn as she sat down on the padded seats at the front, the lack of restful sleep had been starting to take effect, she was nearly falling asleep in her last class but that was because it was really boring, but it was a class her best friend convinced her to try at the start of the semester.

At least she knew Leon’s class was going to be chill hopefully because she don’t know if she could take any more formal writing after writing the 10k paper on how the criminal justice system works and analyzing policies and legislations, she had even tried to sweeten the deal with Leon to just give her a passing grade, but being the gentlemen he was he declined and told her she could do it and helped her.

Just as Y/n was grabbing her textbooks for class a coffee cup was slid over to her; she could smell the bitter coffee and sweet sugar. “You look like shit.” Her best friend comments causing Y/n to cringe ever so slightly because she knew she did, she had her hair in a bun and was wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of Leon’s sweatpants,  since she had ran out of clean clothes and couldn’t be stuffed going back to her apartment this morning. “I know.” Y/n agreed with her as she tried to get comfortable in the lecture hall padded seat, once she was comfortable she placed her hand on her chin and sipped her coffee.

Leon walked in soon after, today he was wearing his dark navy-blue suit set with an undershirt, he looked smart yet there was something undeniably sexy about seeming him in a suit. Y/n could hear some of the females in her class whispering about Leon, wondering if he was single or even married.

Sipping her coffee Y/n couldn’t help smirk slightly as Leon stepped up to the front podium, the summer afternoon sun filtered though the floor to celling windows giving the lecture hall a warm orange, yellow an golden hue that reminded her of when the leaves changed in autumn, she really missed the colder seasons.

“good Afternoon class.” Leon addressed the classroom, his voice cutting though the chatter and gossiping, most of the students started to settle while some where chatting in hushed whispers at the back of the class, most of the students gave him there full attention while there where a few like Y/n’s best friend that was mindlessly drawing in their notebooks, others were trying to make it look like they were listening when in reality, they were fighting against zoning out and class had only just began.

“Today we will be reviewing the last assignment I gave out, because it seemed like somebody people didn’t understand the assignment or didn’t even try.” Leon says causing some of the students to groan, even Y/n could feel a headache coming on at just the thought of the last assignment, Y/n spent most of the class spacing out to distracted by Leon to even really focus, the way when the sun caught his skin giving it a warm glow, or when he used his arms to further explain his point.

She was too busy staring at his forearms or listening to his voice to even really be paying attention, he could be explaining the store receipt to her, and she would hang off his every word like a puppy listening to its owner for a treat, but soon she was soon snapped out of her thoughts when she felt something tap her nose, snapping her train of thought and she looked up and saw Leon with a rolled up piece of paper. “Miss y/l/n zoning out are we, are my classes really that boring?” Leon asked with a slightly teasing tone and with a raised eyebrow, you couldn’t help but flush in embarrassment.

“Sorry Mr. Kennedy.” Y/n says with an embarrassed blush and she sank back in her chair as she could hear some of the girls giggling behind her, even her best friend. “See me after class in my office.” Leon said and Y/n gulped slightly and nodded her head. “Yes sir.” She said quietly as Leon went back to teaching the class and Y/n wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

*After Class In Leon’s Office.*

After saying goodbye to her best friend after class since she was heading to her part time job at the local diner, Y/n wanted to try and catch her before her shift finished she loved the black forest cake that the owner always makes. Reaching Leon’s office Y/n took a deep breath before she reached up and knocked on the oak door and waited for permission to enter his office because he would have a other student or a member of staff in there, Once she heard Leon’s voice telling her to enter, Y/n quickly entered the office and closed the door behind her.

“Lock the door.” Leon spoke as the door clicked softly closed, Y/n nodded her head and turned the lock and a soft click rang out through the dimly lit office, the only light that was-on-was Leon’s desk lamp. He beckoned her over and Y/n slid her bag off her shoulders and placed it on the couch by his door before walking over to him, her feet gently padding against the hardwood floor. Once she was within reach Leon gently tugged her closer so she was straddling his thigh.

“What had my baby so distracted today hmm?” Leon asked with a small teasing but loving smile, Y/n couldn’t help a small whine leaving her throat as she is reminded of what happened earlier today. “I know I know I’m sorry.” Y/n said before she rested her forehead on his shoulder, a shiver ran down her spine as she felt his touch as he gently caressed his back. “are my lecture’s really that boring?” he asks as he gently grabs her chin with his thumb ad index finger, Y/n could hear the playfulness in his tone and it caused her to roll her eyes.

“Maybe I should punish you, since you seem to be acting like a little brat.” Leon says smoothly as his voice dropped a few octaves deeper, as his hand trailed down from her back and to her hips then to her thighs before he grabbed the side a gentle squeeze through her sweatpants as a playful warning. “I’m sorry I spaced out in your lecture Leon.” Y/n said as she bumped her forehead against his as she tried to cute her way out this punishment, but she knew it was fruitless.

“Over my lap sweetheart.” Leon says causing Y/n to pout slightly, but she did as she was told and moved so now she was laying across Leon’s lap. She felt his hand gently massaging her ass through her sweatpants before carefully tugging them down to her mid-thigh, revealing her black lacy strappy thong. “it was the only clean pair of underwear I had at your place.” Y/n weakly protested as she felt him gently tugging on the top of panties causing them to ride up against her ass.

“And it just so happened to be the black lacy ones.” He says as he rubs his hand over the soft skin of her ass cheek, just before she was going to say another weak protest his hand came down on her ass with a firm but careful spank causing her to gasp in surprise and slightly buck her hips against his. “Count sweetheart.” Leon spoke as he rubbed his hand the pink handprint mark that was forming on her ass, as if he was trying to sooth the stinging.

“One.” Y/n said in a soft breath as the stinging in her ass cheek was slowly subsiding now, well that was until she felt another spank against her ass, causing her to grip the edge of his pants in her hands. “Two.” She called out softly this time a little more breathless, she could hear Leon humming to himself as she repeated the same soothing motion as before. “Such a good girl for me.” He softly praised before he softly lifted her chin and kissed the top of her forehead, the kiss causing a purr of affection to leave her lips.

“just a couple left princess, you okay.” Leon asked concern clear in his voice, it made her heart flutter at his concern for her wellbeing and safety. Y/n nodded her head giving Leon a small and reassuring smile, she knew he was punishing her for a reason and he has never spanked her more than 5 times, she would be a good girl and take them because she wanted to be his good girl. When the third spank came her grip on his pants tightened more, the stinging was a little more painful this time since the area felt as if it was already starting to bruise.

“Three.” Y/n called out this time a bit more pained then before, Leon must of noticed this because instead of rubbing to sooth the stinging he leant down and placed a soft kiss on the bruise that was forming on her ass. “Color?” Leon asked Y/n knew Leon never actually want to hurt her or frighten her, he wanted her to feel loved, safe and comfortable in his presence, and that just made her love him even more than she already did.

“Green.” Y/n says with a small smile before he spanked her over cheek causing a soft hiss of pain to leave her lips. “Four.” She says through her teeth before she gently tugged up and Leon peppered kisses all over her face, forehead, cheeks and lips as he knew she was at her limit even if she wouldn’t admit it.

“Such a good girl for me darling taking your punishment so well.” He praised her and before she could get a word out, she felt his middle finger and ring finger start to gently tease her folds, causing Y/n to catch her bottom lip between her teeth to muffle the soft mews that were begging to leave her lips at the pleasure she was feeling. “Leon, please.” His name fell from her lips like a sweet plea for more, she could feel her walls clench around nothing as she was aching for his touch, she wanted his fingers inside her, she needed him to touch her.

“Well since you took your punishment so well sweetheart.” Leon says before sinking those same two fingers inside her warm and wet silk walls, a soft groan like growl leaving his lips as he realized how wet she was, a mew like moan left her lips at the stretch of his fingers but it was soon muffled by Leon’s spare hand covering her mouth.

“Quiet love there are still some professor’s here.” He whispers softly as he slowly worked his fingers in all the right spots that could make her eyes roll back in her head, from the hours he spent exploring her body behind closed doors. Y/n nodded her head as she moaned into his hand, her eyes fluttered closed as she was melting at the sensations and her thighs started to tremble ever so slightly. Her back arched when she felt him use his thumb to gently rub circles on her clit.

She was melting under his touch and she could feel her climax fast approaching, but quickly she moved his hand away from her mouth, causing him to stop what he was doing in fear he was hurting her or making her uncomfortable. “What’s wrong? And I hurting you?” Leon asked worriedly but Y/n shook her head as she was breathing heavily. “No, I just want you inside me as I come.” Y/n said with burning cheeks and the request made even a small color flush on Leon’s face.

Leon cleared his throat and she could feel how hard he was through his pants, since his cock had been poking her in the stomach since he started spanking her. “There is a condom in my middle draw in a small tin.” Leon said as he tried to adjust himself, Y/n nodded her head and reached over to the middle draw and pulled it out, inside was a few files of paperwork and up and coming homework which Y/n knew was going to give her headache, but she didn’t think of that right now.

When she found the small tin, it looked like a small first aid kit with band aids in them and maybe some Panadol not condoms. “And what is a professor doing with these in his desk.” Y/n asked him with a slight tease in her voice, to which Leon gave her bruised ass a spank causing a stinging spark to run up her back, but she just playfully rolled her eyes and handed him one of the condom packets.

Y/n got up on Leon’s desk not caring about the files ad paperwork that where under her body, she heard Leon hiss softly the cold office air hit his cock as he unbuckled his belt, his cock sprang free with a small bead of precum on his tip.

“You might want to close your mouth princess; you might catch flies.” Leon now teases her causing a deeper blush to color her cheeks, she looked away but she could hear him chuckling before a soft gasp left her lips as she felt Leon’s tip gently poke her entrance, both of their bodies shuddering in pleasure.

“You ready Darling?” Leon asked her and she nodded her head and wrapped her legs around his waist, he reached down and grasped his cock, before lining it up and slowly and carefully pushing inside.

A sweet cry of pleasure left her lips as her hips arched off Leon’s desk, his cock stretching her out perfectly like it always does, her hands went to grip his shoulders but he pinned both of her arms above her head, caging her between his desk and his body.

“Quiet Sweetheart.” Leon shuddered as he was trying to stay quiet as well, but he was having as much trouble as she was. Y/n bit her bottom lip hard nearly enough to draw blood. But one of Leon’s hand came up to her mouth to muffle her moans so she won’t hurt herself.

Y/n couldn’t believe what was really happening, she was getting fucked by her boyfriend in a nearly headlock against his desk, and who also happens to be her Law and criminal justice professor, it also felt like a fever dream and that she didn’t want to wake up.

“you close darling I’m not going to last long.” Leon groaned as he rested his forehead on your shoulder, you nodded your head against his hand, you knew she weren’t going to last long either as her thighs where trembling around his waist. “Yes.” Y/n choked out in between her moans; her head was feeling foggy. “Cumming.” she cried out as she let out a hitch pitch squeal like moan and came around Leon and she felt him soon follow spilling into the condom.

After a couple minutes of them both breathing heavily but there was a smile on each of their face, Y/n reached up and gently cupped his cheeks and pulled his face to hers pressing a soft kiss to his lips, to which he returned with equal softness before breaking the kiss and leaning up to place a kiss on her forehead. “you okay, I wasn’t too rough.” Leon asked as he slowly pulled out causing a soft hiss to leave Y/n’s lips and then she suddenly felt empty.

“No you were perfect as always, but I don’t think I can feel my legs.” She say with a small laugh and even Leon chuckled slightly as he tied a knot in the used condom and tossed it onto the bin. “Well, why don’t we get dressed and I’ll take us back to my place and I’ll cook us some dinner.” Leon suggested causing Y/n smiled and nod her head and noticed he was fully dressed and only had messy hair and a slightly flushed face.

Now Y/n wasn’t with Professor Kennedy but her boyfriend Leon who made her heart race as he treated her like a princess making her always feel loved and cherished, not her professor that made her want to rip out of her hair because she has to read 5 pages of boring legislations for a stuipd assignment, She liked this Leon more.

“can you help me get dressed.” Y/n asked him, and he nodded his head and grabbed his sweatpants she had been wearing today and slowly pulled them up her hips then bent down to pick her up bridal style, he had her backpack over his shoulder.

Y/n rested her head on his shoulder while he walked out of his office and locked it behind them both, Y/n couldn’t wait to get to his place and have some food, watch some TV and maybe even go for round 2….

----------

©Ghosty-writes-23, 2025. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Perfect Birthday Wish - Max Verstappen

<word count - 3233>

For many years, Max's birthday was nothing special. He tended to spend it at the track, or at practice, or just with a few friends. He simply saw it as one more year of experience, and one more closer to him officially being old. 

This year, however, Max was changing things up - he was branching out. He was meeting up with a friend of a friend -you- since he had been told that you were a lot like him in many regards. You were currently living in Monaco,  and a bit of an introvert. 

You liked keeping yourself to yourself, and Max was the same. He liked the sound of you, you seemed like his kind of person. He wasn't actually sure whether this get together was a date or whether it was just a friendly little 'getting to know each other' kind of thing. 

But, he assumed that since it was just the two of you, then it could probably be classed as a date. Max had picked a nice little cafe that he had been to many times before without the press interfering. 

He kept his outfit casual, making his way through the backstreets of Monaco to the location that you had been informed about. He didn't know what you looked like or anything, all he knew was that he was spending his birthday on a date with some girl that he had never even talked to.

Blind dates weren't his idea of an ideal first meeting, not by any means, but he felt like this could be an interesting way to start things with you. Now, he just had to hope and pray that you were all his friend had chalked you up to be.

Walking into the cafe, he didn't have a clue if you were there or not. "Hi, I booked a table under Verstappen for 2, I'm not sure if someone has taken the reservation yet?" he asked one of the waitresses walking by, and she went to the front of the cafe to check the system. 

"No one has turned up just yet, your table is right this way," she smiled, leading Max through to his usual table that was tucked away in the corner. Something about it was cosy, homely, comfortable. He loved it, and he sometimes found himself just coming here to sit there and drink a coffee in the peace and quiet. 

As he thought about it, the idea of having someone to bring here, to sit with in the solace, was a nice thought. Just to have someone, not to necessarily talk to, but just to have. To have and to hold, to enjoy. 

He was always asked what he wanted as his birthday wish, and he always said 'what could I want when I already have everything I desire?'. His friends would laugh it off as just Max being Max, but every year he spent without someone beside him, he longed for it a little more. He couldn't help but wonder if today was finally going to grant him his wish.

"Erm... Max?" a voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Max looked up and his heart nearly stopped. Standing in front of the table, fiddling with their fingers was the single most gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. 

You were like some model stripped right out of a magazine and planted right in front of him. "Yeah, hi, yeah, I'm Max," he stuttered, standing up and holding his hand out for you to shake. Shake her hand? Yeah, nice one, Mr 1940s Businessman he thought. 

As a bid to save face, once you had placed your hand into his, he brought it up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. He was relieved when he saw the small flush of pink that coated your cheeks - his efforts having clearly paid off. 

"I'm Y/N," you said as he dropped your hand back down gently. You slid into the booth and Max slid in opposite you, and this was always the worst part about a first date. What did you ask? You surely knew he was an F1 driver, and he wanted to ask you about your occupation, but he couldn't get the words out. 

"So, how's your day been?" you piped up, breaking the awkward tension. 

"Good, yeah. It's just been me and my friends hanging out," he explained, not bypassing the fact that you seemed to be hanging onto his every word, listening as if you genuinely cared about his answers. 

"Any special occasions?" you asked, and he was slightly shocked. Maybe you had really good sixth sense, or maybe you had been tipped off about what day it was today, but he couldn't help but grin nonetheless.

"Eh, well, yeah. It's my birthday today," he said, as if it wasn't a big deal. Your eyes widened as a grin grew across your face. 

"Really?" you said,  excitement clear in your tone. Max just nodded softly, finding the excitement endearing from you. No one around him seemed that excited for their own birthday, let alone his. Plus, it was someone he had barely even known for 5 minutes. 

"No way..." you trailed off, and Max cocked an eyebrow at you. He was curious as to why you found the news of what today was so shocking, why it seemed so important to you. "Today's my birthday too," you told him, and it suddenly all made sense. 

"And why isn't a pretty girl like you out with her friends on her birthday?" he asked, wanting to see that familiar blush creep up onto your cheeks. He was never the smoothest when it came to compliments, but now he felt a sudden burst of confidence. 

"Ah well, they're all at work and stuff, it doesn't matter. I'm glad to be spending it with you, anyway," you countered, and now it was Max's turn to blush. You were more like him than he previously thought.

You were spending your special day, going on a date that could possibly end in disaster, with some man you had never spoken too. It was admirable, in a way. You were both coming out of your shells and stepping out of your comfort zones, for the sake of what?

A connection? Maybe a fleeting romance that would come and go like the autumn breeze? Love? What even was love in a world so cynical? Was it wanting to stay with someone, no matter how much you thought to have despised them? 

Was it wanting to be by someone's side through thick and thin? Was it needing someone so desperately that you couldn't bear to have your soul ripped from theirs by the ever fateful hands of a ticking clock? 

Alas, Max was getting too ahead of himself. "But surely you can find better ways to spend your special day than holed up here with me?" he joked, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips. Now that was a sound he could get used to.

"I could say the same to you," you countered, already finding the Dutchman to be your type of guy. Quiet, composed, but still with the charms of a traditional gentleman. There was something about Max, too. 

Something settling, something that reminded you of home. You couldn't quite say what it was, but he seemed like the kind of guy that would be good to snuggle up with on the couch on a rainy day. 

"Well when you get as old as I am, partying with your friends isn't so appealing anymore," he quipped, and you let out a playful scoff. 

"Old? What are you? 25?"

"I turn 27 today, actually," he told you, and you were shocked, to say the least. He didn't look that old. Well, 27 wasn't old, but he looked like he was in his early 20s. Maybe it was the still fluffy tufts of blonde hair, the boyish face, or the sparkling blue eyes. 

"OK maybe you are old," you laughed, and Max put an exaggerated hand over his heart in mock offence. 

"Ouch, that hurt my ego," he exclaimed, and all you could do was laugh. Time seemed to slow down as the noise in the cafe died down, leaving the two of you as the only people in the space. God, your laugh was perfect. 

The way your eyes lit up and crinkled with the smile was nearly intoxicating. It was something his brain took a picture of and captured so that he could savour the moment again and again in his mind. 

The two of you ate, drank and enjoyed casual conversation for about an hour. The bill eventually came, and you both looked at eachother. "We can split?" you offered, and Max immediately shook his head. 

"No way, no. I am not letting you pay for your lunch on your birthday," he said.

"But it's your birthday too," you replied, a quizzical look on your face. Yes, the logic was flawed, but you liked the intention behind it. 

"Just... let me get this, please?" he softly pleaded, not knowing what other reason to give for wanting to buy you lunch. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, and what Max had always been taught to do when he was growing up.

There was always the factor of liking the idea of being able to provide nice things for people he cared about, to take care of them. Yes, he was skipping quite far ahead in your barely formed relationship, but it was still something that his mind threw at him. 

"Fine, fine," you relented. Something about those blue eyes just made you weak in the knees, and there was no way you'd be able to say not to him when he asked. Especially when he used that tone of voice. 

Max had a cocky grin on his face, liking how easy it was to get you to bend to what he wanted from you. He could already see it now, such an obedient little- no, Max, no. That was a thought for a different night. A completely different night. 

Max swiped his card through the machine, the transaction going through without a second thought. "So... do you want me to walk you home, or we can go for a walk...?" he stuttered, his confidence suddenly wavering. 

"We can go for a walk, sure," you nodded, wanting to spend more time with the Dutchman. 

As you left the restaurant, you walked side by side. The weather was surprisingly warm for this time in Autumn, the sun only being obscured by a few white clouds. There was practically no wind, and you were glad that you hadn't brought out your jacket. 

For a short while, you walked in silence, just enjoying having someone's company. You were both so used to spending your time alone in your own aggregation, but now it wasn't so bad being with someone else. 

You didn't have to talk to feel comfortable with him, and that was how you liked it. Words weren't always necessary in clear communication between two people. It just took a small glance your way and that little smile that told you he was enjoying being with you. 

"Marina?" you asked, looking out onto the slightly choppy water. Despite the boats that were teeming with people with more money than sense, it was a very peaceful atmosphere. You liked the way the water sounded, lapping at the wood of the docks. 

"Sure," Max nodded, also enjoying the time. He spent a lot of time on his own yacht, but he'd probably take you there another time. He could see you, waltzing around in a pretty summer dress under the high sun with a cocktail in your hand. 

He'd just get to lounge around on the deck chairs and watch you, admire you, worship you with his eyes. Yet again, Max was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he was thinking up his big birthday wish for this year. 

As you walked, your hands kept on brushing together. Every time your skin made contact, Max felt spark of electricity running through his veins. Slowly, Max reached out his pinky finger, entwining it with yours. 

You didn't shy away, but you also didn't make a bid to shorten the propinquity. He decided to bite the bullet, moving his hand closer so that he could intertwine his fingers fully with yours, your hands slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. 

His hand was surprisingly warm compared you yours, the soft palm of your hand rubbing against the calloused skin of his own. Max was able to walk closer with you, your shoulders occasionally rubbing together.

As if subconsciously, Max's thumb started rubbing up and down, swiping over the cold skin. "Your hands are cold," he chuckled, squeezing yours gently. 

"Oh... Sorry," you apologised, trying to pull your hand away from yours.

"No, no, hey," he dismissed, grabbing your hand back and lacing your fingers together again. Max placed both your hand and his into his jacket pocket, and the warmth almost prickled on your skin. 

"Thank you," you smiled, holding his hand a little tighter. It seemed like having his hand in yours felt so right.

You walked a little longer, both glad that you were spending your birthdays in such a way. Two introverts, brought together by fate, both of the same mind. Neither needing conversation, but both needed a close proximity. 

Both of you noticed the clouds becoming thicker and greyer, blocking out the sun out and allowing the cool breeze to be felt. Then, without warning, it was like the heavens opened over Monaco.

Heavy droplets of rain poured down from the skies, and you and Max just stood there for a moment. "Erm... come on, this way," he said, pulling you along as your feet trod in puddles as the soaked through your shoes. 

"Max slow down!" you shouted between fits of giggles, your legs struggling to keep up with Max's long strides. 

"Shit, sorry," he laughed back, slowing down but still making haste through the pouring rain. Quickly stopping, he shrugged his coat off of his shoulders and held it over your head as you started running again. "We're nearly there," he told you, taking your hand and tugging you along with him again. 

All around you, people were rushing inside to the safety of cafes and shops, but you and Max kept on running through the rain. "Where are we going?" you asked, but received no answer. You were getting more soaked the more you ran, the rain drenching you through to the bone. 

It was cold, that was for sure. The only thing that was keeping you warm was the energy exerted from running. You weren't even that wet compared to Max, since he was sacrificing his jacket for the sake of trying to keep you somewhat dry. "In here!" he shouted, pulling you into an apartment building. 

"I hope this is OK, I should've asked, but I figured this'd be a good place to wait out the rain and then I can take you home," he mumbled, suddenly not so confident about having brought you where he had. 

"This your place?" you asked, taking in the opulent lobby. It was a pretty new building, and you and Max looked like drowned rats compared to everyone else in the room. 

"Yeah, it is," he nodded, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he held his sodden jacket in his other hand. "I hope that's OK..." he trailed off, not prepared for you to say no and leave.

"That's fine, yeah." you reassured, looking at him expectantly. He sent you a small smile, before walking off to the elevator. It was on the top floor, and you quickly learned that it was the penthouse suite of the complex. 

To say it was stunning was an understatement. It looked like something straight out of a damned catalogue. Marble surfaces, floor to ceiling windows. Hell, the place even smelled expensive. "Woah..." you said as you walked in. 

"Thank you," Max chuckled, taking in your stunned face as you looked around. "Do you wanna... borrow some clothes? I mean, yours are soaked through, and I don't want you getting sick, but I get-"

"Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you," you interrupted, and Max breathed a sigh of relief as he walked off. He ducked into his room and then into the master bathroom to leave his jacket to dry. He also quickly got changed into something comfier: just sweats and a hoodie. 

Ridling through his clothes, Max found the smallest things he owned, even if he thought they'd still be too big for you. "Hey, you can borrow these for as long as you need." he smiled, handing you a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie and a shirt. 

"Thanks, where should I leave my clothes?" 

"You can just put them over the radiator to dry, bathroom is down the hall and first on your left." he informed you, and you took yourself off to get changed. You practically had to peel your wet clothes off you, and the fell to the floor with a soggy thump.

You put your wet hair up in a bun, before slipping the garments on. All Max could do was laugh when you walked out. The clothes literally drowned you. The heels of the sweatpants dragged down by your heels, and the shirt and hoodie ended at your mid thighs. 

"Comfy?" he chuckled, trying to stifle a full blown cackle. He couldn't help but marvel at how cute you looked in his clothes, but he didn't want to make it something that he wanted to get used to before it had even began. 

"Very," you smiled, knowing he was laughing enough but were too warm to care.

"Come sit," Max said, walking over to the couch and patting the spot next to him. You did as he asked, plopping down in the empty space. "Do you want cake?" he randomly asked, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Cake? But we just ate lunch," you said, and Max rolled his eyes.

"Just wait," he sighed, getting off the couch and going off to the kitchen. You heard what you thought was the striking of a match, and in walked Max. "Happy joint birthday," he smiled, and you saw him with a half-eaten chocolate cake. 

The sparklers on top were '27', but he was covering up the '7' with his hand. "I know you're not 27, but I thought you'd wanna blow out some candles," he smiled, bringing the cake to you. 

"Awww," you blushed, touched by how sweet the gesture was. Even if he was presenting you with a half-eaten chocolate cake. 

"C'mon," he prompted, and you just smiled at him.

"You too, blow them out with me," you told him, and Max couldn't help but agree. "On three," you chuckled as he started to count down. "Make a wish," you whispered to him.

He was always asked what he wanted as his birthday wish, and he always said 'what could I want when I already have everything I desire?'. His friends would laugh it off as just Max being Max, but every year he spent without someone beside him, he longed for it a little more. He couldn't help but wonder if today had finally granted him his one perfect wish.

A/N - Happy birthday to Maxie! And to me! I know so many people with this birthday I swear, but happy birthday to the flying Dutchman (and me). Love y'all! 💖

|masterlist|

[fluentmoviequoter]

Paying for the Sins of Our Fathers

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: A new serial killer arrives in Los Angeles with a penchant for girls with bad relationships with their fathers. After you offer yourself up as bait to catch him, Deacon shows you that you're not as hard to love as you think.

Warnings: angst to fluff, serial killer, secondary character deaths, age gap, depiction of terrible father-daughter relationships (going to say allusion to DV just to be safe but if there is it's nuanced not explicitly stated)

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

A/N: Alexa, play Glasshouse Children.

*This is not a rewrite of Sins of the Father, just a titling coinkydink.

Picture from Pinterest (I love this scene so much)

“Caramel pumpkin chai for Lia!”

Lia sighs as she stands and walks to the counter. The coffee shop, one of Santa Monica’s hidden gems that most people walk right by, is nearly empty at this hour. A writer wearing headphones slaves over a laptop in one corner, three young girls read together, pausing every few minutes to discuss the previous chapter, and a man draws in a weathered leather journal. This is how Lia likes the café, but she’s not sure it’s what she needs tonight.

Sitting with her drink, she ignores the envelope in her bag. Her father sent a message from prison, where he’s been since she was a freshman in high school nearly a decade ago, but she’s yet to open it. She’s not sure she can, not sure she wants to, even. Tapping the screen of her phone, she smiles when she sees a reply from her best friend.

Come over, and we’ll talk. Catch this love <3

“Excuse me,” the man with the journal says, standing sheepishly by Lia’s table. “I just wanted to say hello, and, uh, I hope you don’t mind, but I included you in my sketch of the coffee shop.”

“Oh,” Lia replies, smiling at the interruption. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good, good. I won’t keep you, but it’s a hard anniversary for me, but drawing helps and it was nice to have a friendly face in the scene.”

“I understand completely. I hope the rest of your night is good.”

“Thank you,” he replies, nodding once. “You, too.”

“Wait,” Lia calls as he turns. “Could I maybe see the picture?”

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m not very good. My father told me I should find another hobby, but, well… he’s why I’m here tonight drawing instead of remembering the past.”

Lia shakes her head and offers, “Dads are tough, believe me, I know. If you enjoy drawing, though, keep doing it. Good for you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The man pauses and waves generally as he adds, “About your dad, I mean.”

“It is what it is,” Lia says, shrugging. “Are you sure I can’t see the picture?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

“The last scene I drew was a visiting area in a state prison, so it’s a light in this sketchbook.”

“I haven’t been in a prison in years, but I’m sure a setting that grim can’t be easy to draw.”

“I like the challenge, but the distraction was the real reward. After I visit the prison, I go up Getty Center Drive just to get away from it all, you know?”

“It’s gorgeous up there,” Lia sighs.

“You should go sometime, to clear your mind. Even alone with your thoughts, everything just seems more peaceful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

The man nods and steps toward the door. Lia pushes the envelope from her father deeper into her bag before she stands and picks up her drink. She’s ready to talk, and her friend is waiting, like always. As she walks toward her car, Lia smiles.

“Good night,” the man calls from beside his car. “You should really go to Getty after you return your dad’s letter in person.”

Lia’s smile drops as she presses the button to unlock her car. “How did you know that?”

“On second thought,” the man muses lightly, walking toward Lia’s car. “Why don’t we go together? Right now?”

Lia tries to scream, but his hand presses against her mouth, a damp rag silencing her cries.

You yawn as Street continues his story about the motorcycle race he allegedly won last night. Before he can tell you the epic conclusion, a group of at least thirty cops walks into SWAT HQ and heads directly to the situation room. Street silences, and you watch the officers and detectives walk through the building.

“20 Squad, situation room!” Hicks yells. “Now!”

You follow Street inside and find a place at the back to stand. Deacon, Hondo, and Luca enter from the other side and look at you questioningly as they join you. You shrug, and Street stands by Luca as they theorize what the large meeting could mean.

“I’m Detective Ryan Carradine of the Mid-Wilshire division,” Carradine introduces, gesturing for everyone to quiet. “We have patrol officers, Metro SWAT, UCs, and the homicide division from several different stations here today because we have a county-wide case.”

A map with nine red dots appears on the screen behind him. Each dot has a date and time beside it, each one five days apart.

“By which I mean there is a new serial killer in Los Angeles. In the last 45 days, we have located nine bodies, each a female in her early-20s to late-30s. Early this morning, we found Lia Carter, a 24-year-old woman from Rustic Canyon. Carter was attacked sometime between midnight and 2 a.m., and she was left for dead in brush off Getty Center Drive. She’s in critical condition, but if she pulls through, she will be the only survivor.”

“What’s the connection between victims?” a homicide detective inquires.

Carradine tsks, then answers, “Our teams are working on that now. What we’ve got tentatively is the age range, females, and…” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he adds, “They all seem to have strained or nonexistent relationships with their fathers.”

You look at Street, who purses his lips and shrugs.

“Carter was found with an unopened letter from her father stapled to her shirt, he’s serving life in Lancaster State Prison for killing her high school boyfriend,” Carradine explains.

“What does this have to do with us?” Street whispers.

“So, because of the extent of this case, we need everyone in this room on their A-game. If that’s not you, I want you out and I will find someone to take your spot.”

No one moves, so Carradine nods and steps to the side as Commander Hicks joins him.

“I’m Commander Bob Hicks,” he begins, “I’ll be assisting Detective Carradine in an operational capacity. I’m also placing my 20-David SWAT team on standby for anything related to this case. The moment we get a warrant, they’ll be ready to roll.”

“That being said,” Carradine interjects, “Mid-Wilshire’s Metro is prepared to pick up slack for other tactical calls. If you need immediate tactical support for this case, alert Hicks, otherwise, dispatch will get you a team from another station.”

“What other information do you have?” an officer asks. “Suspects, forensics?”

“Short answer: nothing.”

The undercover chief suggests, “We can get UC officers out, advertise poor paternal relationships, try to bring this guy into the light.”

“It won’t work,” an officer states as he enters the situation room. “Lia Carter regained consciousness. She said he knew; that the man had details about her relationship with her father, things she’d never told anyone other than police and therapists.”

“Then UC is out,” Carradine murmurs, rubbing his forehead. “Any other ideas?”

You inhale before you say, “Send me in.”

The officers standing between you and Carradine look back and step to the side so he can see you clearly. Hicks looks from you to Hondo, then back to you, and shakes his head gently.

“If he can get his hands on that kind of information, then he could find out that I fit. I’m the right age, no relationship with dad,” you explain. “It’s as good as a UC as you’re going to get in this.”

Standing beside you, Deacon tenses his jaw. He doesn’t want you to do this; he wants you to be as far from this serial killer as you possibly can, but it’s not his place to ask you to stay. No matter how much he wishes it was.

“Absolutely not,” Hondo says instead.

“There’s way too much at stake,” Luca adds.

“He could know even more,” Street exclaims. “We don’t know his MO, what he does before or after the killings.”

You look to Deacon rather than answering your other teammates, and he licks his lips before he says, “It’s your decision. We’ll be here for you, whether you stay or go.”

Nodding, you keep your eyes on Deacon as you say, “Then let’s catch a serial killer.”

“Oh, he’s got a name now,” a cyber-tech says from one of the desks. “Papers are calling him The Fatherless.”

“Classy,” you murmur.

“Get prepped,” Hicks tells you. “20 Squad, you’re on standby, so stay close.”

“The rest of you stay here to receive your posts,” Carradine announces. “We’ve got five days until he strikes again. So, let’s do this in four.”

In the locker room, you sit in your civvies and prepare for the worst. The door opens as Street walks inside, his steps purposeful and hurried.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, stopping beside you. “No one will blame you for changing your mind.”

“Street,” you begin.

He squats before you and shakes his head. “No, listen, I understand. Probably better than anyone else here. I know that you still feel that pain, even if it’s the last thing on your mind. Those wounds, the ones that your parents carve into you as a child, they never fully heal, and they reopen easily.”

You nod along with Street. He’s right, you know that. Yet, you know what you have to do.

“We’re glasshouse children, Street, you know that. But I’m done paying for the sins of my father. And I’m not going to let another innocent woman be murdered because of hers.”

Street sighs and leans back against the lockers. “We’re here for you. You better be careful, or I’ll tell Deacon that you have a crush on him.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms to match Street’s stance. “I’m always careful. Don’t confuse your recklessness for my perfection.”

Hondo knocks on the open door, serious and sympathetic, as he says, “Hospital just called. Lia Carter didn’t make it.”

Over the next two days, every moment outside HQ is spent setting up your role as the perfect target. On a walk, you slow by a park and watch a father and daughter play together, letting yourself long for something you don’t remember having. In crowded areas, you identify men who remind you of your dad or are alone and steer around them, giving yourself a wide berth. You avoid talking about your family, even inviting a friend to dinner just so someone asks how everyone is. No matter where you go, you keep your guard up with your gun within reach. You’re living like someone is watching your every move because you want them to be.

The most important thing you do requires help. With a picture stowed in your backpack, courtesy of the forensic team, you return home at the end of the second day. Carefully, you hide the picture in a book, then make dinner and try to forget it. When you settle in with the book for the night, you “accidentally” find the picture. The ink shows you and your father, cheek-to-cheek and smiling, and you stare at it until it blurs. Then, you shove it back in the book and throw it against the wall. Dropping your head into your hands, you feel like you’re being watched, and if the picture hadn’t affected you more than you anticipated, you might be scared by that.

Sitting alone in a rundown diner, you tap a sugar packet against your cup. It’s been five days since Lia Carter was attacked, and if you aren’t approached by The Fatherless tonight, he’ll kill another woman. You shift as if you can feel the picture of your dad in your pocket. It’s halfway out, so anyone who approaches your table can see it, yet another piece of bait to get yourself on a serial killer’s radar. You wish he could see it so no one else has to see him.

“Evening,” a man greets as he slides onto a barstool directly to your right.

You look over your shoulder, and when the man’s eyes drop to the picture, you fight down a smile. A killer sits beside you, his complete attention on you, and you’re exactly where you wanted to be.

“Good evening,” you reply lightly.

“Young love, huh?” he asks, gesturing with his chin to the young pregnant couple sharing a milkshake at the other side of the diner. “I bet they’ll be fun parents.”

You laugh humorlessly and look down at your sugar packet as you murmur, “I wouldn’t know what that looks like.”

He frowns sympathetically and offers, “Let me get you another drink?”

Though you want to agree and speed through this part, you remain hesitant, a faux vigilance. The Fatherless leaves plenty of room between you, making it feel like you’re in charge.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he says to the waitress. When you look at him again, he smiles and shrugs. “It looks good.”

“It is good,” you reply, letting your eyes drift back to the happy couple.

“I used to imagine that my parents looked like that,” he muses. “But then I remember my dad was a deadbeat who left before I started preschool.”

“Now that I can understand.” You nod as you look at your empty cup.

“Ready for that drink?” he guesses.

You smile sheepishly, and he turns to order another drink before he slides off the barstool and sits on the other side of your booth.

“Your dad leave too?” he inquires, treating it like another mundane subject.

He asks open-ended questions but feeds you information he shouldn’t even know. You know what he’s doing, and you will play his game for as long as it takes.

“Yeah. I mean, in hindsight, I guess I should’ve seen it coming,” you answer.

“You were older?”

As you continue answering his questions, talking more and touching your drink less, you notice his eyes keep flitting to your cup. There was no evidence of him drugging the previous victims, so he must be pulling out all of the stops for you, his first target who defends herself and others for a living.

“So, you go hang out by yourself when you’re feeling like this?” The Fatherless asks.

“Depends on the day,” you say. “And the feeling.”

“I used to go sit on one of the bridges over the Los Angeles River and just stare into it.”

“That helped?”

“Almost every time. Something about the concrete lining on what should have been natural just… put everything into perspective, I suppose.”

“Typically, I try to escape thoughts of my dad,” you point out with a smile.

“And staring into murky water doesn’t help with that?” he challenges.

“That’s fair. I think I’d like to see it, give it a try.”

“We aren’t far from a viaduct.”

“I didn’t drive,” you complain. “The one time I decide to walk to clear my head.”

“I’ve got a car. If you’re comfortable with that.”

You pretend to deliberate his offer, then smile and stand. He leaves some cash on the table – cheap tipper, you think – and then leads you to a nondescript black Mustang. As he walks to the driver’s side, you slow and memorize the license plate.

“You know, one thing I never considered before is how lucky I am that I don’t have to worry about who will walk me down the aisle,” he says as he opens the door. “I guess your daddy issues are why you go for Sergeant Salt ‘n’ Pepper, though, huh?”

You don’t expect the comment, and it makes you stop. How The Fatherless managed to find the one thing you haven’t thought about for years, your wedding day, and how strange it might be without a father figure confuses you. More, the fact that he brought Deacon into this causes you to freeze.

“C’mon,” he urges, likely sensing your sudden discomfort.

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “Got lost there for a second, didn’t I?”

As you get into the car, you know you’re doing the right thing but are admittedly scared now. If he knows that much about your life presently, who knows how much information he has on your childhood or family. He talks during the short drive to the viaduct, and you force yourself to keep the conversation going.

It’s weird. Your dad is who he is; you’ve moved on from the pain and heartbreak he put you through, and that’s what this guy is supposed to care about. But, because of The Fatherless, you’re thinking about something else. Is it possible that everything that exists or could exist between you and Deacon is just because of that?

Standing on a viaduct over the Los Angeles River, The Fatherless stands too close to you. He reaches for a weapon, but you’re too slow, not even raising your hand before there’s a gun in your face. Defenseless, you stand still as an engine rumbles before footsteps pound against the pavement.

“LAPD SWAT, drop the weapon!” Hondo yells.

“You’re surrounded, man,” Luca adds. “It’s over.”

“Put the gun down and step back!” Hondo repeats.

You stare into his eyes, looking past the gun. The moment he begins to lower his arm, Luca and Street rush forward and detain him before passing him off to another officer. With the police lights reflecting off the water below you, you look to your team as you fight to keep your emotions inside.

“That was the stupidest, most reckless act of incompetence I have ever seen!” Hondo yells, taking a heated step toward you.

Street raises his arm quickly, slapping his hand against Hondo’s chest. When Hondo stops, Street shakes his head but keeps his eyes on you. He can tell there’s something else wrong, more than you not defending yourself. You’re surprised, however, when someone else seems to notice it.

Deacon walks toward you, where you stand at the edge of the concrete platform. Stopping several steps back, Deacon doesn’t touch you but waits for you to do something. Down the bridge from you, the surveillance team that was watching and listening from the moment you stepped into the diner tells Hicks, Hondo, Luca, and Street what The Fatherless said to you.

When they hear that he brought someone you care about now into the conversation, they look back to you and Deacon. Hondo sighs while Luca runs his fingers through his hair, and Street murmurs, “No,” under his breath.

“I told Street I didn’t want the daughters of Los Angeles to pay for the sins of our fathers,” you begin. “But we can’t escape it. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to forgive him and move on, I’m still broken inside because of what he did.”

“You’re not broken,” Deacon insists.

“Then why do I look for love everywhere but only find it where I can’t have it?!” you ask, your voice rising as you step back.

Deacon raises his hands as you near the edge of the overpass. Your team moves forward, too, but everything else slows down.

“He was right, Deacon,” you murmur.

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Yes, he was! I love things that I can’t have because one of the few times I loved something with my entire heart, my dad shattered it.”

“Look where you are now,” Deacon demands, his arms still out toward you. “Despite that pain, in spite of everything he did to you, you are here. You have a career you love, a team that loves you like family, a-“

“Please stop saying love,” you interrupt.

“We love you,” Deacon finishes. “And we don’t care about what your dad did or didn’t do because we love you, scars and all."

You wipe a stray tear from your jaw, and Deacon takes another step toward you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “Differently than I’ve ever loved anything before.”

Your breath catches, but Deacon would never lie to you. You sniff and ask, “So, you don’t think I’m attracted to you just because of my daddy issues?”

Deacon smiles at your question, shakes his head, and offers his hand. You place your hand in his, grateful for the warmth of his glove, and then he pulls you against his chest and hugs you tightly. Safe in his arms, you let yourself cry, barely registering his movements as he carefully directs you away from the viaduct.

A moment later, more arms wrap around you as your team joins in your group hug. You laugh through the tears, loving each one for different reasons. And, just as you love them, they love you. This is your family, and this kind of love transcends generational curses and past traumas. You’re all different people, shaped by your pains and experiences, but you fit together. The people in this hug are your family: perfect pieces held together by love.

As Deacon follows you into your home, you know he will offer to stay, but you have something you’ve needed to say for a long time.

“I love you, too,” you admit. “I’m in love with you, and I have been for years.”

Deacon smiles as he offers his hand again; you take it, willing to go anywhere with him. He kisses your forehead and then leads you to the kitchen. The possibilities are endless now that your feelings are out in the open. You can do anything, be anything with Deacon.

For tonight, though, you want to sit with him and remember that you’re loved, and you can love as hard as you want because the sins of your father are not your responsibility nor a weight you must bear. Who you are now is who Deacon loves, and that’s exactly what you want to be.

[songmingisthighs]

Whatcha Gonna Do About It ?

group : ateez

pairing : brat!wooyoung × milf!reader

genre : smut

wc : 3.3 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut, age difference (legal ofc), unprotected sex (std ew), wooyoung being annoying, reader in her mid-to-late 30s, wooyoung calling reader mommy, masturbation (m), wooyoung in some sort of a sub space ? but like... brat, slapping like.. twice?, creampie

a/n : requested by anon and part of my milf deal with @luvt0kki !! >:D

buy me coffee ?

Warm sun, cold drink, the soft murmur of people by the pool of the country club, sometimes you appreciate your husband for moments like this.

Well, ex-husband.

While you made peace with the fact that your marriage ended years before, the divorce still brought a bitter taste in your mouth. Years spent with that asshole and he had the gall to come to you with the bimbo who couldn't even spell the word 'homewrecker' without writing it with a crayon, asking for you to help him raise the baby as the girl was willing to get paid to let go of maternal responsibilities and instead get paid to go to beauty school. Served you right for letting your parents set you with him when you were still so young just for the money. Safe to say you got the penthouse, the luxury and the community while he got the bill and the 19-year-old high school dropout with a baby on the way. Not even your son who idolized his father wants to have anything to do with his father and while your ex said it was just him being a 12-year-old, you knew better. So while your ex had to redo his whole life and regain his credibility, you were left simmering in unresolved anger and frustration. Though by the poolside, in your ridiculously expensive bikini that you bought just to piss your ex off, you found the experience rather pleasant.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here,"

Speaking of children.

Barely giving him a glance, you took a sip of your mojito and adjusted your sunglasses, "Hello, Wooyoung," you greeted half-heartedly.

Jung Wooyoung is someone you want to avoid when you're at the club. He's a notorious tease and a player and everyone knows it but has no means to stop him due to his influential family. He treats girls his age like a plaything so when he started to get close to you a couple months ago when your divorce was finalized, you didn't bat an eye. Maybe he was just bored, maybe he wanted to rile you up, or maybe he wanted to see how many demographics his good looks can affect because while he's relentless and annoying, he's VERY easy on the eyes and smooth with his words. No wonder there was a long line of broken hearts that seemed to always trail behind him.

"Surprised to see you here today," he sat himself down on your pool chaise, right next to your hip, "I heard you went to the Komodo Island for healing. And to think you'd just stick with your husband if you wanted to be close to something dangerous and cold-blooded," he smirked. While his jab at your ex amused you, you tried your best to not show any reaction by taking another sip of your drink before shrugging, "I went there to see the construction of the villa I invested in. Why? Thought you could get me to give you free access?" "Well," he pursed his lips and turned his body towards you, allowing you to trail your (thankfully sunglass-covered) eyes on the smooth expanse of his chest and watch droplets of water race down his skin, "I'd love a free access, but not to your villa. If you get what I mean," he coyly stated.

You could feel your cheeks warm up but having had enough you stood up straight and got your face close to him (much to his delight). "Okay, little boy, you think you can play with the sad divorcee? Is that it? You think someone like you can do more damage to someone like me?" You jabbed a finger at his tanned chest that now that you were so close to him, you could see how delicious it looked, "You're nothing, boy. You're just a tease with a big mouth," you hissed.

Much to your surprise, he was looking at you with such intrigue and when you looked into his eyes, you noticed the slight teasing glint in them that made you swallow a lump in your throat.

"You think I'm all talk?" He chuckled condescendingly as his hand suddenly found your shin. The touch was electrifying and it sent a sharp tingle up your spine which you found delightful as much as you had to admit. Your heart started beating harshly against your ribcage when said hand trailed upwards slowly, brushing against your inner thigh before it jumped to the hand on his chest, gently wrapping his larger palm around your hand. How can veins be hot? What are you, a mosquito?

"You think I just have a big mouth?" he teased again with voice at a lower register that drew you into a hazed state until he brought your palm to his lips, kissing the skin around your pulse point to the pads of your fingers, "Don't you know that it's good to have a big mouth?" Your eyes widened and your mouth involuntarily let out a gasp when he shoved your index and middle finger into his mouth. His mouth was warm and you could feel his tongue circling your digits which sent your core clenching and leaking arousal, suddenly imagining the muscle somewhere... Lower.

"You've been treated so bad, so I want to treat you right. But you seem to think that all I want to do is use you once and that hurt me..." He leaned close abruptly, sending you reeling to an almost lying position had it not for one of your elbows supporting your weight, "Mommy."

The name triggered something in you and as if on instinct, the hand that was in his grasp slipped away and grabbed at his throat, pressing on his jugular as you pushed him slightly away. "Did you just fucking call me 'mommy'?" you growled, glaring at him.

Wooyoung had always considered you hot and sexy but seeing you like this at a proximity this close, made his cock twitch and hands itching to pull the flimsy ties by your hips. "Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything was a blur, you didn't know what exactly happened but you somehow managed to pull Wooyoung into a private cabana without getting seen (or at least you hoped no one saw) after what he had just done and in a blink of an eye, you found yourself i your current position.

"Aww, I thought you said you weren't just all talk," you pouted at Wooyoung mockingly.

Scowling, Wooyoung moved his hand faster on his cock, trying to get himself off in front of you while you stood on your knees on the daybed in front of him, an unamused look on your face. "I am," he hissed from annoyance and stimulation mixed with frustration because though he was getting some relief, it was not from you and you were just standing there as if mocking him with your presence. Seeing him in such a state, clear annoyance with an obvious blush that betrayed his demeanour somehow made you feel powerful, confident, beyond sexy. Even with your husband, whenever either of you initiated sex, the feeling was never this... thrilling. "So? You just can't cum? You're all talk and so pathetic, Wooyoung. How are you supposed to fuck me like you said you would, like you said I deserved when you can't even do it to yourself?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes which made Wooyoung let out a sharp exhale.

You had to admit, you liked the sight of Wooyoung stark naked with his knees slightly bent and legs spread wide. Seeing from the way your eyes fell from his own gaze to his twitching cock, and the way you bite your bottom lip, Wooyoung was aware that you liked what you saw and it made his back arch as if to make a big showcase of his pleasure. Your pussy was practically drenched seeing the hot twenty-four-year-old trying so hard to please himself to please you what with beads of sweat and remnants of pool water that slowly seeped into the cushions underneath him. He was glowing. You couldn't believe that a guy like him wanted you to the point of throwing himself at you like an idiot.

"Mommy, come on," he moaned, dropping his chest back, "I'm touching myself to you so the least you can do is pop those pretty titties out to help me cum because now that I have you in front of me, I need it, I need it bad," he whined, trying to inch his body closer to yours only for you to drop your hands on his knees, securing his position. Wooyoung halted his movements when he saw your tits dangling in front of him, the flimsy fabric couldn't hide your hardened nipples and the sight of them bouncing and jiggling at the slightest movements made his eyes widen and mouth drool.

Despite his Neanderthal-like vocabulary and crass expression, you felt flattered and as weird as it is, you found a unique charm in that. "You think you deserve to see my tits, boy?" you smirked, crawling closer to him until you sat yourself on the tops of his knees with legs caging his comfortably. Wooyoung's eyes automatically dropped lower to the space between your legs, taking note of the dark patch that had formed and smirked, happy that you were turned on seeing him put on a show for you. Slowly, he started stroking himself again, this time putting more pressure in his grip, "Of course, I do, mommy. If you let me suck one of them, I'll even pound your pussy to next Thursday," he smugly said.

Scoffing, you pulled one side of your bikini top, revealing your left tit to him and his jaw comically dropped. You could see from his eyes the way his pupils followed the movement hungrily as if being hypnotized and you couldn't help but laugh at him mockingly, "Oh my God, are you that affected by the sight of breasts? What are you, a virgin?" You taunted. Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pouted as his eyes darted to glare straight at yours, "How can I be a virgin? You've seen girls I slept with," he huffed with cheeks tinted slightly red. "Well you sure are acting like you've never seen a woman's naked body before which is so sad," you faked a pout before moving to reveal your other tit to him. You saw his chest shake as a rumble passed his throat and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed his saliva. "Fuck, you're so hot," he whined, trying to reach for your body only to have you slap his hands away with a hiss, "Did I tell you that you could touch me without permission?"

Dissatisfied, Wooyoung whined loudly and was about to protest when he felt something tweaking his cock. "What?" you smirked, letting your finger tweak his tip again which caused him to choke on his breath a little. "Pathetic," you spat after clicking your tongue, expressing disappointment as you grabbed him from the base and squeezed.

He didn't know why, he didn't know how, but the combination of your treatment on him got him cumming on your hand. Your eyes twinkled with intrigue as you watched spurts of white liquid spray from his tip, hitting your exposed tits as his back arched with a slight tremble and his head thrown back. For once, you appreciated the sound he made; a whimpered moan that sounded slightly muffled as if he was holding himself back by keeping his lips tightly sealed. "Now, now, don't hold back on me," you teased, pinching the tip harshly. His thighs tensed from the sudden stimulation as his jaw slackened letting the voice he had held back finally out. You were not sure what but maybe it was the reality that you were being physically intimate with a man a lot younger than you or the possibility of getting caught by passerby separated by the tent because Wooyoung was being loud or a mixture of both, but you felt a pleasant chill ran down your spine straight to your aching cunt.

In his haze, Wooyoung barely noticed you crawling up and situated yourself on his lap, your heated but unfortunately still covered core pressed on his flaccid cock. Wooyoung's eyes rolled into his head when he felt you starting to roll your hips on him. The anticipation had eaten away through him and the barest minimum of contact made him almost nut right at that moment. But with sheer will, he pushed through and decided to enjoy himself first.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," Wooyoung grunted as he felt his dick coming back to life almost instantaneously, "Fuck, I want to make my mommy feel good," he moaned shakily when he felt the wet patch on your bikini bottom rub against him, giving him friction from the friction and warmth. You couldn't deny the fact that hearing someone as young as Wooyoung lusting after you made you so aroused that you were practically clenching at nothing which was stupid because his cock was there and it wouldn't take much for him to get fully hard again. Even if he wasn't fully hard, you were sure that you could get him inside you without any issue. Why were you torturing yourself instead of torturing the guy under you?

At that point, you had had enough of messing around, you wanted him in you and you wanted him right then and there. Wooyoung's eyes followed your every movement like a predator watching its prey which was ironic since you hold the reigns. When you pulled on one of the strings of your bikini bottom, Wooyoung couldn't help but think of it like a present being opened because the moment your bare pussy came to view, he accidentally let a word slip past him. "Want," he whimpered with eyes still glued on your pussy like an idiot. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from saying something snarky because frankly, you were enjoying the attention. "Yeah? You want mommy's pussy, baby?" you teased, returning to rubbing yourself on Wooyoung.

With each movement, the fabric of your bikini bottom ruffled which allowed your bare cunt to make direct contact with Wooyoung's bare cock. The feeling and built-up expectation seemed to be too much for Wooyoung as his back arched and eyes rolled back into his head. You had to admit that you had never seen a prettier sight than the one that was oh so freely given to you by Wooyoung. Taking advantage of Wooyoung's state, you grabbed his hardening dick and positioned it at your entrance and began descending until your hip met his.

"Oh- fuck!" Wooyoung grunted, his body jolting which was followed by his abdominal muscles tensing as if he had just been punched in the gut, winded simply by your pussy. Seeing this, you could only smirk not just because you didn't want to ruin the moment but also because you thought that nothing could beat the cocky look on your face.

Wooyoung's pleasure doubled the moment you started moving against him. Your more experienced hips moved in a way that allowed his cock to slip in and out without slipping out but also kept your lower halves connected. "Shit- fuck, mommy!" he gasped loudly which prompted you to slap him and grab ahold of his cheeks in one hand. "Keep your voice down, Wooyoung, no one can find out what we're doing here," you hissed, leaning down close to warn him. You hadn't meant to be so harsh but that action seemed to rile Wooyoung up even more because once you let go of his face, a depraved smile appeared on his face and he let out a content sigh, "Fuck mommy, if only you'd let me let people know how good you're using me right now," you felt the soles of his feet planted flat on the surface of the daybed and he began meeting your thrusts which almost caused you to fall on top of him, "God, Jesus, you feel so good mommy, your cunt is so perfect, I want to never stop fucking it, holy shit," goosebumps shot up your spine when Wooyoung grazed his hands on the sides of your legs and they kept moving upwards until they settled on his chest. Your eyes widened and you instinctively licked your bottom lip when Wooyoung began tweaking his nipples.

Somehow the pace you both set never faltered but you felt Wooyoung thrusting into you harder than you had initially done but it wasn't like you were about to complain.

It didn't take long before you felt Wooyoung's movements become frantic and you realized that he was about to cum again. Before Wooyoung could do anything else, you reached forward and grabbed his face again, prompting him to look at you, "You don't get to cum yet, pretty boy, I'm cumming first and then you'll wait until I told you that you could cum." Wooyoung pouted and whined, "Mommy why? I need to cum, please." You had to think that he was purposefully being loud to get you to slap him again because when you did, you swore you could see him smirking. "Weren't you a good boy? You can make me cum just with your cock, can't you? Or are you that pathetic that the woman had to do everything, huh?" your taunts successfully egged Wooyoung as he determinedly thrust into you. His face was scrunched and his movements were sloppy, beads of sweat started trickling down his face and the lack of changing expression on your face seemed to frustrate him.

You casually slipped your thumb into his mouth and pressed down on his tongue, "Don't you give me that look," you scoffed, "You talk big but you can't deliver, huh? Pathetic." Wooyoung tried whining again but this time you pressed your thumb more onto his tongue, not caring about the drool that accumulated and trickled down the sides of Wooyoung's mouth.

Maybe deep down you had a thing for pliable brats because, for some reason, the sight of your harsh treatment on Wooyoung got you fucking yourself quicker and quicker until your cunt clenched down on Wooyoung as you came.

The sudden tightness sent Wooyoung reeling and he came inside you immediately. The release felt amazing and your grip on him allowed his cum to be fully stuffed inside you.

"Fuck," you panted, coming down from your high first, "Didn't I tell you to wait for my permission?" you scoffed once you finally managed to find your voice again. Chest heaving, you weren't really mad that Wooyoung disobeyed you because you had just experienced the best sex you've ever had, bar none.

"M' sorry mommy, so so sorry," Wooyoung babbled with a stupid grin on his face, eyes blinking back as his euphoria died down. "Yeah, sure you're sorry," you shook your head, not believing his words even slightly because he looked like pure bliss. You were no better though because had there been a mirror, you would've seen that you were also smiling genuinely. You could simply say that it was because you just had sex, but you had to admit that it was also because you had done it with Wooyoung.

Thinking that you were done, you slowly detached yourself from Wooyoung. But before you could even get off properly, Wooyoung had leapt forward and pinned your body down.

"Wooyoung!" you hissed, surprised and you immediately tried to sit up only for Wooyoung to push your body back down.

"I'm sorry for not waiting for your permission, I feel bad, really. So let me clean you up real quick, yeah?" there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that was accompanied by a knowing smirk before he lowered his face down to your cunt.

You were about to have another best sex ever, bar none.

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[savorypink]

need late sias!alex as a barista and u as the annoying customer who comes in during closing time. he angry fucks you in the bathroom cuz u annoy him

“cuz u annoy him” makes me giggle, but here you are anon!

“...and that’s why I stopped paying my taxes!” 

You speak into your phone’s speaker, swinging the doors of the small cafe open. Caught up in a conversation over the phone, you miss the scowl on the barista’s face as you saunter towards the counter. The lights of your favorite coffee spot have warmly dimmed, the minimal lighting enhancing the coziness of the atmosphere. This lighting, however, is an indication that closing time is near. To the dismay of the night shift barista, Alex, you have always made it your business to show up right before the doors close. Your horrible timing isn’t entirely your fault, though; 1) you’ve got things to do, 2) the cafe has become rather popular recently, and your patience isn’t the best. Why would you want to wait in line? 

Your conversation continues even when faced with the barista, completely ignoring the chairs sitting on the empty tables, the lemon scent of cleaning products breezing past your nose entirely. The barista’s cute, large doe eyes look up at you from the counter he’s wiping down with a bleach-stained rag; he doesn’t seem happy to see you. 

“Hold on just one second...” you say to the barista and your rambling friend on the phone. Digging into your bra, you pull out the crumpled-up bills and coins for your usual drink, all in exact change. You hand him the money with a warm, lip gloss-coated smile. You’ll see if he’s worthy of a tip. 

“You know what to do.” You finish with a wink before he takes the money out of your manicured hands. Your perfume's pleasant candy scent lingers when you turn your heel to the tables behind you, dizzying and addictive to his nostrils, but he scowls as soon as you pick up a chair. Plopping down, you continue entertaining your friend on the phone, and you aren’t quiet about it.

“Yeah, I’m at the cafe now. It’s so cute!” you squeal. “You should totally hit it up sometime. Make sure the Elvis-looking guy makes your drink, though. He’s the best.” 

Your words wash away the barista’s annoyance as he prepares your drink, knowing your preferences like strings on a guitar, pure muscle memory. Your loud mouth quickly tarnishes this somewhat peaceful moment.

“It’s the ginger-haired girl you gotta watch out for. Ugh, she’s the worst! Can’t make a drink for shit. And guess what? I found a hair in my muffin! When I flipped out on her, she kept saying, ‘Calm down,’” You do perhaps your worst impression of the nasally lady, “and she was like, ‘Do you want another muffin?’ No! I want my money back, Ed Sheeran!”

Your friend on the other line laughs alongside you, a bubbly yet ear-piercing cackle that makes Alex almost crush the mixer in his hands. His brain bounces from wanting to hear your laughter again to shutting you up with a kiss. As your gums continue flapping, you allow your eyes to examine the barista behind the counter. His backside is as cute as his front, the lean muscle of his shoulders contracting under his white t-shirt, strong arms flexing as he scoops up the ice and pours it into the mixer. You put a gelled nail between your teeth as you watch him, shifting in your seat as your panties become uncomfortably wet.

“Hey! Are you still there?” Your friend calls on the other line.

“Yeah!” Your cheeks warm up at the interruption, “Like I said, make sure Elvis makes your drink. You’ll know exactly what he looks like. If his back is turned, just look for the one with the cute butt.”

Alex is thankful his back is turned, your words tinting his face a rosy red. The silver bell on the counter dings once your drink is prepared. You don’t bother putting the chair back as you approach the counter. You thoroughly look through the transparent cup, ensuring the amount of ice and the number of dried fruit is accurate; you have no notes. Taking a sip, you let the liquid linger on your tongue before swallowing. Cold, sweet, and punchy; you couldn’t ask for more. You reenter your bra, dig out some change, and place it into the tip jar near the register. Your sunny, warm smile conflicts with the barista’s snowy, freezing shoulder.

“Thanks, Alan!” 

“Alex.”

Your eyes dart to the pastry case behind him, a croissant drizzled with chocolate catching your eye. “How much for that croissant? It looks tasty…”

“For you? Free of charge.” He’s more concerned with getting you out of here before you give him gray hairs. 

“Wow, really?” you beam in amazement. “You’re so kind! Alan, you’re the best! You’re way nicer than that ginger chick who tried to poison me. Ugh, she doesn’t work here anymore, does she? So unprofessional. She’d be better at scrubbing toilets than making drinks.”

Alex smirks at your remarks as he hands you the pastry in a white paper bag. “You mean my boss?”

“That’s your boss?” You immediately take the pastry out of the bag, biting into the flaky treat. “She’s in the wrong line of work if you ask me!” 

“Oh, yeah? Do tell.”

Your mouth moves before you can detect the sarcasm in his voice. You’re oblivious to the flakes falling into your shirt, decorating your cleavage as you continue munching and talking. Alex second-guesses giving you a napkin before handing you a few from the dispenser. If he didn't, he’d have more reason to stare at your chest. Flakes and chocolate stain the corners of your mouth and lip, and he hates to admit it, but you’re looking very…cute.

“Anyway,” you finish, wiping yourself clean, “You should totally be running this place, Alan. It doesn’t hurt that you’re super hot, too. Just work on the resting bitch face, and you’ll be amazing!”

Your final comment digs painfully into his skin, and it’s a shame. He was starting to like you.

“You’re too pretty to be talking with your mouth full,” Alex crosses his lean arms over his chest. “ I could teach you proper etiquette if you’d like. I’m a tough teacher, though. Be warned.”

Offended, you blink wildly before smiling at the compliment he snuck into his invitation. You gladly accept.

“You think I’m pretty?”

---

The cold marble of the bathroom sink raises the tiny hairs on your skin. You claw at it to no avail, sheepishly bent over the sink with your thong and velour tracksuit pants hugging your ankles. The empty bathroom echoes a slapping sound, a mixture of wetness and the noise of your ass against Alex’s relentless hips. His cock drives in and out of you at a brutal pace; each thrust angrier than the next. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” his large palm comes down on your ass with a vicious spank. “Come on…you were mouthin’ off about a muffin just a minute ago.”

Your cunt gushes at his words, the tight walls of your core needily squeezing him in a vice grip. Lust clouds your brain, unable to form a witty comeback to his statements, your weak moans becoming a new language. Before you lay your head on the marble, Alex fists your hair in a ponytail, tugging you upwards to face the mirror. Ignoring the messy reflection, you allow your eyes to roll into your skull, heat beginning to pool in your stomach, his cock hitting the right spots repeatedly and harshly.

“We’ll figure out a use for your mouth in the next lesson. You're doing a great job at taking me, muffin.”

[shadowybananabread]

Stay with Me (Kitty x Min Ho fic)

An imagined scenario during Joon Ho's summer tour

Tokyo, Japan

Minho sighed. “I should stop doing this,” he thought to himself. This was the second time on the tour that a girl he went out with asked if he’d be… open to something more than casually dating. It was all so predictable. He’d feel free and exhilarated with someone new, and then it would quickly fade away into dust once their emotions got involved. After being drained by someone like Stella, he wanted nothing more than to be selfish.

But selfishness never works out when there are two people.

He walked slowly, the gravel crunching under his shoes. Cicadas chirped in harmony with the peacefulness of the summer air, the humidity enveloping his entire being.

He stopped, arriving at his hotel.

Kitty was sitting on the front stoop, rocking back and forth, as she peered up at the night sky. Her long, curled hair and white dress blew gently with the wind. She hadn’t noticed Minho yet, and it made his heart swell. It was like some secret only he was privy too – seeing her when she was alone with just her thoughts was another kind of privilege. He wanted to know what that mind was thinking about.

As if on cue, she blinked and turned to meet his eyes. She smiled, jumping up to greet him.

“Back already?”

He chuckled. “Mm-hmm. What were you up to? Waiting for me?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I went out to that teen vinyl bar across the street and had a drink. Was pretty cool.” She grinned. “It’s nice to be somewhere where I feel safe by myself. I had to listen to this one song they played on the walk back.”

Minho frowned. “Didn’t I tell you to call me on the way back? You shouldn’t be listening to music on any street in the world by yourself at night, regardless of where you are.”

“I was fine, come on. Clearly.” She spun around and laughed.

“How many drinks did you say you had?” he asked, amused. Of course, it wasn't like they could drink yet. But the humidity seemed to have the same effect as alcohol sometimes.

Kitty stepped closer to him, his breath hitching as she stared up into his eyes.

“Just one.” She tilted her head to the side, continuing to scan his face, peering into the windows of his heart that she tore open a year ago.

She spun around and started walking forward on the path they started taking every morning together after coffee.

“What are you doing?” he asked gently.

“Walking. Duh.”

Sure enough, she paced steadily, the streetlights illuminating her path. Her hands were behind her back as she looked up.

Minho walked behind her, a few feet behind, his hands in his pockets. Watching her and making sure she didn’t trip, the rollercoaster of the past year played like a film reel in his mind. She turned around and glared at him occasionally, and he knew why. But they weren’t ready to say that out loud. Not yet.

In all of his many missteps, Kitty never gave up on him. And ordinary nights like this, when it was just the two of them walking in the darkness together, were ones that would forever sear his mind, imprinting in his memory and blurring the line between dreams and reality.

Please stay with me.

[writewithmiaaa]

Gaurded Grace Pt.2

Pairings: Jasper Hale X reader

Warnings: None :-)

Summary: Jasper and Y/N meet again!

Type: fluff💗

Y/N couldn’t shake the events of that night from her mind. Days turned into weeks, and the memory of Jasper’s golden eyes and his unwavering protection lingered like a haunting melody. She continued her routine, but her thoughts often wandered to the mysterious vampire who had saved her. Would they see eachother again?

One crisp autumn afternoon, Y/N decided to visit the small, cozy bookstore downtown. The store was one of her favorite places, a haven of quiet and comfort. She wandered through the aisles, letting her fingers trail along the spines of books, feeling the familiar solace they offered.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the tall blonde figure entering the store until a soft voice broke her reverie.

“Y/N?”

She turned, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Jasper standing a few feet away. He looked as composed as ever, his eyes warm with recognition and something else—relief.

“Jasper,” she breathed, a smile spreading across her face. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He returned the smile, his posture relaxing slightly. “I like to come here sometimes. It’s peaceful.”

They stood in a comfortable silence for a moment, the bustling world outside the bookstore forgotten. Y/N felt an inexplicable connection to Jasper, as if their brief encounter had forged an unbreakable bond.

“Would you like to join me for a coffee?” Y/N asked, surprising herself with the boldness of the invitation. “There’s a café just around the corner.”

Jasper’s smile widened. “You know, I don’t drink… that… but i’d be happy to join you darlin’.”

They left the bookstore and made their way to the café, the conversation flowing easily between them. Y/N found herself intrigued by Jasper’s quiet intensity and his old-fashioned manners. He pulled out her chair for her, a gesture that felt both charming and surreal.

As they settled at a corner table, Y/N couldn’t help but ask, “How did you know where to find me that night?”

Jasper’s expression grew serious. “My family and I were tracking James. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses his path. He had taken a particular liking to the human girl my brother Edward is dating, and desires to hunt her. It’s all a game to him. When I heard someone was in the studio, I couldn’t ignore it.”

Y/N nodded, absorbing his words. “I’m grateful you were there. But it must be difficult, living with that kind of threat.”

Jasper’s eyes softened. “It’s a part of our existence. But we do what we can to protect those who are unaware of our world.”

Y/N sipped her coffee, considering his words. “It’s hard to believe all this exists beneath the surface of our everyday lives. Vampires, supernatural threats...”

Jasper chuckled softly. “It can be overwhelming. But it’s also a reminder of how resilient humans are. How you are.”

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks at his compliment. “I don’t feel very resilient. I was terrified.”

“And yet, you’re here now,” Jasper said gently. “Facing it.”

They spent hours talking, the conversation shifting from the supernatural to more mundane topics. Y/N learned about Jasper’s love for history and literature, his struggles with his vampire nature, and his deep bond with his family. In turn, she shared her passion for ballet, her favorite books, and the dreams she held close to her heart.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the café, Y/N realized how comfortable she felt with Jasper. He wasn’t just the mysterious vampire who had saved her; he was someone she genuinely liked and wanted to know better.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” she admitted quietly, her eyes meeting his.

Jasper reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers in a gentle, reassuring touch. “The feeling is mutual, Y/N. I’m glad we met again.”

They left the café together, walking through the quiet streets as dusk settled over the town. Y/N felt a sense of contentment, a feeling that everything was falling into place.

As they reached her apartment building, Jasper paused. “Would you like to meet again? Maybe see more of the town?”

Y/N smiled, her heart light. “I’d love that.”

With a final, lingering look, Jasper bid her goodnight and disappeared into the twilight. Y/N watched him go, knowing this was just the beginning of their story—a tale of guarded grace and unexpected connections that would intertwine their lives in ways she had yet to imagine.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Y/N found herself eagerly anticipating her next meeting with Jasper. They arranged to meet at a local park known for its serene beauty and secluded walking trails. The park was a tapestry of autumn colors, leaves crunching underfoot as Y/N made her way to their designated meeting spot.

Jasper was already there, leaning against a tree with an easy grace. He looked up as she approached, a smile lighting up his features.

"Y/N," he greeted warmly. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise," she replied, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest.

They began to walk along the path, the conversation picking up effortlessly from where they had left off. Jasper asked about her ballet practice, and Y/N shared stories about her recent performances and the challenges of perfecting her technique.

"And what about you?" she asked, curious. "What do you do when you're not saving people from rogue vampires?"

Jasper chuckled. "I spend a lot of time with my family. We move around quite a bit to avoid drawing attention. And I read—a lot. There's always something new to learn."

Y/N nodded, intrigued by his dedication to knowledge. "What's your favorite period in history?"

"That's a tough one," Jasper mused. "I suppose I'm particularly drawn to the Civil War era. I lived through it, and it shaped a lot of who I am today."

Y/N stopped walking, her eyes widening. "You lived through the Civil War? I mean, I know you're... well old, but that's so cool! What was it like?"

Jasper's expression grew dark. "It was a time of great turmoil and change. I was a soldier, and it was both exhilarating and devastating. It taught me a lot about humanity—both its capacity for destruction and its need to continue.”

They continued walking, Y/N absorbing his words. She found herself wanting to know everything about him, to understand the depth of his experiences and the complexities of his world.

As they neared a quiet clearing, Jasper turned to her, his gaze intense. "Y/N, I need to tell you something."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

"Being around you, it's different. I feel a connection, something I haven't felt in a long time. But my world is dangerous. Being close to me means accepting that risk."

Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Jasper, I can't pretend to understand everything about your world, but I do know that I feel something too. And I'm willing to face whatever comes with that."

Jasper's eyes softened, a mixture of relief and admiration in his gaze. "You're braver than you know."

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Y/N felt a sense of determination settling in her chest. She was ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead, as long as it meant being with Jasper.

A/N: HI! So sorry this has taken so long, but I literally hated this chapter and I kept redoing it, to the point where I have given up 😘 sooo i hope you enjoy!

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Thinking about a coffee shop au where Steve works at Joyce’s coffee shop and I’m ngl It’s a little unhinged.

So Steve stays working at Joyce’s coffee shop, and when he starts he learns one of the resident regulars is a young pre teen girl named Max. She never orders anything, she just comes in, waves to whoever’s working (says “hi Jon” and “hey Joyce” by name but doesn’t seem to know the rest of the baristas like that), and sits herself down at a small table and starts her schoolwork.

By the second time Steve sees her and sees (what he realizes is a daily routine) Joyce bring her either some fruity sweet iced tea lemonade concoction, a matcha, a chai latte, or a mocha and give her a kiss on the cheek, he understands there’s some kind of relationship there. Which is confirmed when he watches Jonathan go sit beside her on his break and crack jokes, catching up with her (and bring her a snickerdoodle) the second time he sees her.

And he knows Joyce’s 3 kids, will, Jonathan and el. By name by story by photo. So he knows this isn’t Joyce’s kid.

So he asks Robin, one of his new co workers he’s become fast friends with.

And so he’s slowly filled in.

“The red head- Oh, max! Yeah. She’s Billy’s sister”

“Who the fuck is Billy?” Steve asks, even more lost. They don’t work with a ‘Billy’.

Robins eyes look uneasy, before they come back.

“Okay, so max is el- you know Joyce’s girl- els best friend. Her older brother is a guy named Billy”

Steve’s even more confused. Joyce’s younger kids- the twins- don’t spend much time in the shop. So why does Els friend hang out here? Well-

“Well, billy works a lot. He’s in college-the one a few blocks away- and he has a full time job and he has a part time job on the weekends and sometiems he even helps out here if joyce needs it, so he’s really busy and not home alot. And because Billy’s a broke college kid with a kid to raise he’s pretty broke so they don’t live in like, the best part of town. So Billy worry’s about her being home alone all afternoon. Sooo she comes here after school. Usually billy picks her up, sometimes Joyce takes her home, but she’s a really good kid. She stays here just so joyce can keep an eye on her and give Billy some peace of mind.”

Steve’s still confused. “Okay… but like where’s their parents? Weird situation don’t you think?”

That uneasy look is back.

“So um. Billy’s actually her step brother, ex step brother? I don’t know. But he’s got full legal guardianship and custody of her at this point and that’s the big thing that matters. Maxs mom kinda fucked off and started drinking herself to death, and Billy’s dad-“.

Robin took a deep breath. “He’s serving a few decades for domestic violence, domestic abuse, child abuse, battery and attempted homicide charges. Most of that shit on billy.”.

Him and max don’t really talk to much. It’s not that he has beef with a 12 year old he just doesn’t know her. And it would be kinda weird to go around making friends with little girls.

But one day he’s making a grilled cheese in the back, and he turns around to green eyes boring into his soul.

“Hey max. You okay?”

“Yeah. Whatcha making? It smells good?”

Steve chuckled.

“Mozzarella, Swiss, bacon and cheddar on sourdough. Fancy grilled cheese. Do you want half?”

And her eyes light up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of corse”.

And just like that Steve is her best friend. And he makes her a sandwich every day. He understands joyce and Jonathan now. It’s very easy to just adore this sweet kid.

And when els around?

They’re the cutest thing. Young, 12 year old puppy love. It’s the cutest thing on earth. Just all giggles and smiles.

But it takes months for Steve to meet Billy. Usually he either clocks out before Billy arrives (and he now says goodbye to max by name) or when he closes it happens to be Joyce’s nights bringing her home.

So when he first meets Billy, he simply doesn’t know he’s meeting Billy.

A gorgeous, but exhausted looking fella comes in one evening, Steve’s breath is taken away.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“Can I get an americano with a pump of caramel and an extra shot”.

Steve nods. “Any dairy?” “Still have oat milk or out for the day?”

Steve looks in the fridge. “You’re in luck, handsome”

The man looks up with surprised blush.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it. What I owe ya?”

“Don’t worry about it” Steve winks.

“I told Joyce to stop doing this; she does too much for us” the pretty man chuckles and sighs and a moment of confusion hangs before Steve’s eyes light up.

Joyce? He knows- us? Too much for- oh-

“Oh my god! You’re Billy-“

And Billy looks confused. “Maxs brother, yeah? “

“Yeah yeah that’s me. Um-“

“Sorry- sorry had no idea. Sorry wasn’t a joyce coffee on the house thing that was me trying to flirt with you. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry- you were hitting on me?”

They’re both taken away from the conversation by maxs voice as the girl walks out of the bathroom.

“Billy?” “Hey shortstack” he greets, welcoming her hug. Or her flinging herself onto his back. Oh. Aww.

“What are you doing here?”

“Night class got canceled, figured I’d come getcha as a little surprise and we’d have a girls night, some scary movies anddddd some Mac and cheese?”.

And it’s kinda sweet, you know. Billy’s canceled class was clearly a surprise. To max and Joyce too. He coulda taken the night for himself. Go to a bar, a club.

But he’d rather have quality family time with his kiddo.

Steve’s a goner. He knew from those big blonde curls the second they walked in the door but now he really knows.

[rogerswifesblog]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @jamneuromain here’s a little gift for you. I hope you’ll enjoy the first one shot of the little kinda series. It was supposed to be a one shot but I didn’t finish it on time so…now it’ll be a two/three chapter series! I hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I wish you the best. I won’t specify what exactly because everything what happens should be the best! Meet the best people, make the best memories and the best experiences!!!!

Between the bookshelves

My Masterlist

A/N: it’s not beta read:) there’ll be mistakes, be prepared:)

Pairing: Mob Ari Levinson x bookshop/café owner reader

Series Summary: You’re a small-town-girl living in a big city, owning her own (somewhat successful) book- and coffee-shop, a dream you had been following for years. Some of the books are little works of your own, but nobody really knew it and nobody really read them, being just small stories between bestselling novels.

And yet there was a specific client that couldn’t put down your books.

The Saturday mornings were mostly quiet and got a bit more busy in the noon, where people start waking up or curing their hangovers-for some reason you had noticed everyone liked doing it in your little coffee shop. The quiet atmosphere, smell of coffee, cake and books was calming for the people. It was just good for their headaches. Just some time to themselves. Just some…peace. That’s how you could describe your shop. Peaceful.

Most of the time they would buy a coffee, maybe a sandwich or something sweet and would sit for a while, sometimes with their headphones on, sometimes with their eyes closed or other times watching the people walk past the windows.

You enjoyed watching people.

The older people that came by because your place had an older aesthetic, the walls made from old brick stone, the shelves and tables dark wood, the couches, loveseats, armchairs and chairs all being rather vintage than modern. Always ordering the apple pie from your grandma’s recipe. Could they taste like it was an old recipe? Did it taste differently from the other pies?

You also liked watching the business people rolling their eyes during calls or while typing something on their laptops. It was really entertaining. You also always gave them a free muffin if they spilled their coffee on some (probably important) documents.

So to say, everyone liked coming here, for whatever reasons. Maybe to drink your coffee, maybe to have some peace or forget what was happening in their busy lives, instead wanting to escape in one of the books. In your cafe was everything possible, they could just drink their coffee and enjoy some snacks or disappear in a fantasy world with witches, mermaids and vampires or into a simple romance or thriller. Whatever they wanted.

And then there was him.

He came here to see you smile. To hear your voice. To get to know you.

But until now he never actually spoke to you. Not unless it was to tell you his order.

And that’s it.

Ari was the head of the mob and yet he got cold feet when it came to talking to a pretty girl.

Usually he had no problems with talking to women, even targets or other dealers but you ... .it's like he was his teenage self again (or even worse, because he actually wasn’t that nervous back then.)

He didn’t want to mess it up too soon, since you seemed like a very nice person and probably wouldn’t approve of his work. So he wanted to show you his best side-even though he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hide his true identity.

And more important, how long he’d manage to keep you safe. That was his biggest concern. That’s also why he didn’t know if he should approach you.

For now it was enough to sit in your café and watch you from afar. Like a total creep.

Ari sighed, hitting his forehead on the table with a quiet thud. What the hell was he doing? He was making a total fool of himself? He’d now go to the counter and ask for your number.

Determined he stood up and did as planned. “Hi, may I ask for-“ “Y/N, the muffins are ready!”, shouted someone from what he assumed was the kitchen. You smiled apologetically. “Give me a minute”, with that you disappeared for a moment, coming back with a plate filled with muffins.

A bright smile crept once again onto your lips when you saw the beautiful stranger still waiting at the counter. He was one of your regulars and yet you never catched his name. Nor anything else beside his usual order. “Another cappuccino?”, you saw him opening his mouth, before nodding. “Yeah, another cappuccino, thank you”, he smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear before taking out his card.

He definitely noticed the muffin decorated with heart sprinkles to his coffee, that he hadn’t ordered. Also, he got your name. This was more than he had actually expected.

And this muffin definitely meant something, right?

You watched him for a second from behind the counter, before needing to go clean up a table. You hoped he had seen the number written on the handkerchief.

He didn’t. He threw it away.

But you didn’t know that. You imagined he threw it away on purpose. Maybe he felt awkward? Or even uncomfortable? God, you have messed up. What if he’d never come back again?

Sighing you looked out of the window imagining the beautiful man talking to you about something different than just his usual order.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks Ari couldn’t go to your café and it made him crazy. Even though he didn’t know you, he missed your sweet smile. The słuchały oversized pink hoodie you liked wearing, especially when it was a bit colder, how you always wore your hair in a bun or ponytail, showing off your beautiful rosy cheeks. The way your eyes lightened up when you talked to him-he didn’t know if it was something that happened with every customer, but he liked imagining this sparkle was just for him.

Maybe it was.

Maybe it wasn’t.

But he hoped it was.

When the quiet bell sounded as he entered the café you lifted your head, having been caught up in messaging someone while there was some quiet time in the shop. There were only a few customers busy with eating and drinking, some others reading some books.

He walked up to the counter, opening his mouth to greet you, but his voice broke when he saw your slightly rosy cheeks, the soft smile on your lips. “Hello, the usual?”, you smiled at him, making him even more speechless so he just nodded.

For fucks sake what was happening to him. How the hell could you make him speechless with just a smile even though he was able to talk to twenty men with guns in hands and files longer than some restaurant menus.

Sighing, he walked to his usual table, hanging off his jacket over the chair before walking to the shelves, looking for a new book.

He found one about a complicated love story between a college student and her professor, from what he could read in the summary-but it wasn’t the plot that surprised him.

It was your picture.

You were the author.

Ari immediately took it and walked with it over to his table where he immediately started reading. He wasn’t really into romance stuff, but it was your book. It was a piece of you, in a way, and he wanted to know something about you. About the relationship you seek, the gestures that made your breath hitch and what made your heart flutter.

So he started reading.

Within a few pages he was already pulled into the story, completely losing himself in the story, interested in the problematic relationship the main characters had. Just when the main character was supposed to meet with her professor you walked up to his table with a coffee and muffin that he hadn’t ordered.

When he looked up at you and slightly closed the book you could see he was reading your book. Your cheeks turned a dark red color. Usually it wouldn’t matter who read your book but him-not him. He wasn’t supposed to know about the things you liked, about your desires and-about your sexual preferences! Jesus. Maybe he hadn’t read who the author was?

At this point you’d rather just go to bed and never leave it again. Like, really, never.

Sighing you walked back behind the counter, not noticing the lingering gaze on you.

Three hours later, Ari was still busy with the book. At this point the story was so addictive he couldn’t put it down. The main character was a total sweetheart and the professor-god what a dick he was. Such a liar. Even though he had already messed up once, he didn’t tell his lover he still had a wife. Okay, yes, they were divorcing soon but still-he should’ve told his girlfriend about it. It’s a detail you should mention. Preferably from the beginning and not letting the girlfriend find out because the wife walked into his apartment?? Jesus!

He scoffed at the book and wanted to turn the page when his phone rang. “Levinson”, he listened to his friend about having found out who had stolen guns and other weapons from him. Ari could tell his frown deepened with every second, the vein on his forehead already pulsing from anger. Fury, even. He tried to be a good man. Really. Holding back all the time-but having one of his men betray him…this was too much. It was-

“Do you want a refill?” Your sweet voice interrupted his racing thoughts, his nerves immediately calming down, the frown disappearing. Instead a smile reappeared on his lips. “I can’t. I have to go and get some …business stuff done”, he said, already standing up. It was the first time you two were so close to each other.

His Perfume smelled overpowering, but in a surprisingly good way. It made you crave this man even more than before. The smell was just heavenly. You couldn’t stop yourself from breathing it in deeply, nearly closing your eyes to enjoy it for a bit longer but instead you looked into Ari’s bright eyes. He was taller than you, bigger than you. He towered over you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You felt safe.

Fuck. Your crush was turning into something much worse.

Little did you know that’s exactly what Ari thought too.

It’s not really unusual for him being taller or bigger than someone, but with you it’s like something inside him awoke. The need to keep you close. Keep you safe. He knew how dangerous the world could be, especially for a woman like you. But he could take care of you.

He’d love to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose against your neck and inhale your sweet smell, feel your soft skin…

He had it bad. So, so bad.

A last smile crept onto his lips before he grabbed his jacket and walked over to the door, looking once again back at you meeting your gaze. You blushed at that, making Ari’s heart pound.

He’ll ask for your number. Next time when he’ll be here.

But he didn’t. The next time, two days later, he just drank his coffee and read the book. Ari was Never this curious about a book but yours was just…incredible. The love story, the whole plot. Unbelievable. And also…thinking you had such a…interesting view of sex made him curious if you’d do the things in real life, too.

Were you into the same things as the main character? Spanking? Dom and sub dynamics in real life? Being called a good girl? Fuck, he really tried not to think about these things at night. (He failed sometimes.)

“Would you like some apple pie?”, you sweet voice made him lift his head. “Oh, sure, how much-“ “no, no, that’s on the house…it’s a gift. From me.” Your gentle tone made his heart throb, while he nodded. “Thank you.”

While he watched you walk away he wasn’t sure what to do next. You were such a kind and sweet person. And he was…he wasn’t good. Far from that, actually. You two couldn’t be more different. While you were a gentle soul that gave away the food that was left after a shift to the homeless, he was capable of torturing people without blinking an eye. He was cruel, cold and furious.

He wasn’t good enough for you. He knew. And he knew he’d only make your life miserable and dangerous. Maybe he already did with spending so much time at your café. Your worlds were too far from each other for you to date. Or even be friends.

“Here you go-enjoy”, once again did your voice pull him out of his thoughts-and a gentle touch on his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Fuck. It just slipped. From all the reading-he forgot. It was unbelievable how your whole being influenced his behavior, how you were able to make him forget about his whole being.

Just when he wanted to apologise a shy but bright smile formed on your lips, a slight blush slowly creeping over your cheeks. Without saying anything else you squeezed his shoulder for a second before stepping away from his table, being called over by an older couple.

Even though he really wanted to read more, his phone was getting blow up with messages about the recent thefts. They knew who caused them but not where he was hiding. The fact that it was one of his men still angried him, even more because nobody could find him.

But he needed the stolen things back. ASAP. Otherwise even he could get in trouble-which didn’t happen often.

He looked at the pie, smiling as he noticed the little heart you had drawn with whipped cream. The thought of not being able to have you made his heart crumble a little.

Why couldn’t he be just a simple man with a simple life?

Because he liked the luxurious life he had.

But maybe he could try the simple way of living for once?

Oh who was he lying to, everyone he knew would say he’d never have a standard live. He liked having an expensive car, the newest phone, eating out especially in nice restaurants or nice vacations somewhere far away.

He was curious about what you liked. Maybe he could invite you to his favourite restaurant? Seeing you in a elegant long dress, your beautiful neck exposed…maybe covered in some little hickeys, marks ... ..or maybe a simple and decent day collar. Just a neck with a little ring…only the people involved would understand-and maybe some people would even compliment your necklace, not knowing what it meant.

Ari’s whole chest tingled with need.

But he didn’t want to destroy your life by pulling into the mess he was in.

Sighing he took a little bite from the pie, immediately closing his eyes in pleasure. It tasted incredible. Perfect even.

He hadn't had such a good pie in a long time.

Ari ate the pie within a few minutes, not having enough time to eat in peace since his phone was ringing all the time.

Once again when he left he could feel your lingering gaze on his back.

Next time. He’d talk to you next time.

You promised the same thing to yourself…and your best employee-well, best friend, because she couldn’t handle listening to your venting about Ari anymore.

This time he couldn’t come to your café for over two weeks, since he was after Alex, the thief. And he didn’t have much time to relax. Especially not in your café, also he didn’t want to come closer in case someone was following him-which he believed was possible seeing what was happening.

But he really missed you, even though you hadn’t had a real conversation yet. It’s just…your smile could brighten his mood, it didn’t matter how bad the day was.

When he finally visited your place again the first thing he noticed was how your frown disappeared and how you leaned over the counter slightly. “Hello! Long time no see”, you grinned at him.

Ari chuckled at your enthusiasm, immediately feeling how your presence cheered him up. “Yeah I had a lot of stuff going on…it’s complicated. I’m just glad I can finally drink a coffee here…sit, enjoy the atmosphere here…it’s probably the only place where I feel like I can forget about the whole mess with-…you know, life”, he mumbled, shaking his head slowly.

When he took out his wallet your hand touched his and you slowly pushed it away. “It’s fine, this one's on me…maybe we could…sit a bit together? Talk?”, you smiled gently, seeing how the gears in the man’s head started doing their job.

“Sounds very nice, yes. I’d love to sit and talk a bit…”, he didn’t sound entirely sure about it, but you believed him anyway. Maybe he really had a bad day. “Perfect, then you can go sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

After he did what said you started preparing the coffees and a piece of brownie for each. He’d definitely like it. At least you hoped he would.

“I’m pretty sure we never really introduced-I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”, when you finally sat down Ari turned his phone around so the screen wouldn’t be visible. You really hoped he wasn’t hiding a wife or kid. Or both? Let’s not be paranoid…but still…

Ari smiled at you, pushing his phone even further away. It’s not like you’d grab it and read his messages? This guy was a bit suspicious…but you knew not to judge a book by its cover. “I’m Ari, it’s nice to meet you. I wanted to talk to you for a while now…I couldn’t never really get myself to do it”, he chuckled, making you unintentionally but your lip a bit.

Did it mean he liked you just as much as you liked him?

“I’m glad. I was curious if we’d ever say more to each other than your usual order”, your words made him chuckle again and he shook his head a bit. “Yeah that…I don’t really like changes and besides, your coffee is really good. When I find a place I like, I don’t like changing things.” Ari took a sip from his coffee to prove his point-and once again the coffee was as good as always.

He noticed how seemingly pleased you were with this simple compliment. Wasn’t it obvious how good everything here was? Especially the barista…which he wouldn’t say out loud, but he’d think about it.

“What will happen to them? Will they have a Happy End?” Ari lifted the book he had once again taken from the shelf. One of your first pieces you had tried to write and actually finish. But you were still slightly insecure sometimes-especially when the person reading was someone you’d rather like to impress.

You shrugged slowly, a teasing smirk creeping over your lip. “I guess you’ll have to come here often and finish it yourself. I won’t spoil the ending for you. What’s the fun in reading it then?” Ari shook his head amused.

“I rather like knowing what’s coming, you know? To prepare myself for it, the same in real life-especially my business. It sucks to know that you’re being lied to”, he had no idea why he was telling you this but it felt good. It’s like his heart was speaking for him, even though his brain was screaming at him to shut up and preferably leave you alone.

But he listened to his heart, for once. He wanted to listen to his heart this one time.

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I understand. It must be hard having someone close betray you…if I may ask, what did he do? And where do you two work?”, you asked. Curiosity was never your best trait, but to your defence ari was the one speaking about it first. You had the right to ask…right?

Ari stilled for a second, looking down at his phone, then his coffee, hands, back at his phone and finally back at you. “It’s office work, but I can’t tell you much more about it”, you could tell he was lying right to your face.

Did you care about it? Did you see the red flags and decided to ignore them?

Nobody ever said you always made the right choices.

“I understand. Still sucks being lied too by someone important”, you squeeze his hand again.

At least he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Maybe this weird gut feeling was from nervousness and not…something else. He seemed like a nice and charming guy.

On the other hand…

So did Ted Bundy.

You quickly shook those thoughts away…for now.

To your surprise you two talked for nearly two hours, before the café started to be flooded by customers and you had to go back to work. Ari left you his number, telling you to call him when you’d need any help…or just to talk.

Happily you enjoyed the rest of the shift, already thinking about texting Ari later in the evening.

Thank you for reading!

I Hope you liked it! Let me know! Support your content creators by reblogging and leaving feedback:)

Taglist: @magnificentsaladllama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @lilsiz

[daenysx]

Hi friend ! 😘 I love your works so much and if you have requests open I have an idea:

Fem reader is out doing errands or something and some stranger is really creepy towards her and she is very scared and when she gets home tells aemond and he makes her feel safe and secure and lots of fluff and reassurance and soft aemond

If it’s triggering or you’re not into I totally understand- I just love the way you write and portray characters 🥰 Much love to you always ! Looking forward to your new works 😍

thank you for your sweet words and this request, i hope you like this!! i tried to write the fluffy part as the main plot because i'm in love with soft!aemond.

this is probably the fluffiest fluff i've ever written. <3 please read the request first, it can include triggering content.

requests are open!!

my masterlist

the one you call

modern!aemond is there for you when you feel uncomfortable because of a stranger.

you feel your hands shaking with anger and discomfort as you walk through the door to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, aemond targaryen. maybe it would be better to call him and ask him to pick you up, but you cannot bring yourself to care right now.

you have always been the kind of person who takes care of herself. calling or asking for help are never your first options, it's who you are. sometimes you get angry at yourself for being so stubborn though, just like today.

you will not cry. you don't want to cry.

you unlock the door with your key, only to find aemond sleeping on the couch. he doesn't wake up to the sound of opening door and the moment you see him sleeping, you decide to not wake him up. your boyfriend needs to rest after a busy day at his family's company.

you silently change your clothes, wash your face with cold water, and prepare yourself a cup of coffee. you try to calm down when you do these most natural things but still the feeling of discomfort is there.

you take your cup and sit next to the couch your boyfriend's sleeping. he has to be tired if he still doesn't wake up. you watch his face like you don't have the image of him memorized in your mind.

his hair falls to the pillow like a platinum blonde perfection. his eyepatch is thrown away, his breathing is steady. he softly mumbles a few unconcious words, his lips look kissable and exquisite as he whispers to his dreams.

you drink your coffee slowly, try to relax and be calm. it's okay now. nothing can hurt you when aemond is with you. besides the confidence of being able to take care of yourself, having your strong man with you feels more secure and safe, always.

he slowly blinks and the first thing he sees is you. the image of you sitting there, wearing one of his shirts and drinking coffee from his favorite cup makes him smile.

you smile too, when you see him awake. it feels like a broken smile though, not like your usual ones which makes the room shiny in his eye. sleep leaves him as he sits on the couch and opens his arms for you.

"why didn't you wake me up, pretty girl?"

you settle in his arms comfortably, searching peace in his hold. you bury your nose to his neck to find the smell of his hair which always make you aware of his presence.

"you needed to rest, love."

he smiles and leans into your face. he gives you messy kisses filled with love and adoration. being in his arms feels safe like the world out there cannot touch you when he is here. you wish you can feel the same things when you are alone.

he feels your hands on his neck shaking and your breath becomes unsteady.

"what is it, baby? why are you sad?"

your tears fall and you can't help it. keeping them from falling has hurt you and you can't resist when you are in his arms.

"it-it's not a big deal but- a man-"

aemond loosens his hold and his hands cup your cheeks.

"shh, don't panic baby. we have time okay? take a moment and tell me afterwards, come on."

this is the last step for your tears. you wrap your arms around his neck and let them fall. he holds you like a baby, his fingers are on your hair. this is a safe space for you. you can cry, you can smile, anything you'd want and he would accept it.

he would give you anything you want.

it takes a few minutes for you to talk again. you look at his eyes, they are covered in worry and adoration.

"there was a guy in the street and i was just walking and i don't even know what happened, you know? he was weird and it made me nervous."

it's hard to tell how he feels.

"nothing happened but i hate when people like him just coming closer and saying shitty things just because they think it's somehow their right, it's-it's so-"

he understands what you mean and for a second he cannot stop himself from being angry. he is angry at the guy, he could punch him without taking a breath for feeling a girl -his girl- like this.

he is angry that he wasn't there to comfort you, to let you think you should take care of everything by yourself. he should make you know that no matter what happens, no matter who is hurting you, he will be there for you. he will always make you feel safe just like you make him feel that way.

he knows that you know he understands you, that you will not continue talking about the guy.

"you know i love you, right? i love you too goddamn much, i should try and think the right words to express it. you are perfect and no one can do that to you. no one can do that to anyone."

you listen to him, your perfect man. his eye focuses on your expressions as he speaks, determined to make you believe how much you are loved by him.

"i know you can take care of everything. you are my strong girl, of course you can do anything but when you feel like you can't do it anymore, i'd like to be the one you call. you know that, right? my sweet girl."

you nod, leaning into him and kissing his cheek. it will take time for you to stop feeling the discomfort but still you feel much better now that he knows. he knows and he understands, he will be here.

"now, i want coffee and i think you'd like a second cup. choose one of that sitcoms you love and wait for me under the blanket. please, sweetheart."

you smile, handing him your empty cup. he goes to the kitchen, you go under the blanket. you wait for him eagerly for minutes.

he joins you and holds you closer when you smile at the show. he kisses your hair, lets you play with his rings, and hands you your coffee cup whenever you want.

you spend the entire evening wrapped around him until you fall asleep, your face buried to his neck. it feels safe, secure, and lovely.

[waywardxwords]

Part Two

Summary: *Part 2 in the Highway to Hell series* While trying to wrap her head around her newfound role as a prophet, she finds herself connecting with the oldest Winchester brother. Word Count: 1,383 Warnings: Some light drinking, a little bit of cursing...nothing crazy!

INTRO | PART ONE

Castiel demanded that she stay the night with the boys. The uncertainty inside of her had been replaced with fear, and though she didn’t know these men (or the angel) from Adam, she somehow felt as though she could trust them. So, shockingly, staying the night at this stranger’s house brought her a weird peace of mind.

She stared at the ceiling as she contemplated the last twenty-four hours. Shadows of the tree branches just outside the windows danced across the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep?” A deep voice came from the doorway. Dean entered cautiously. He and Sam had decided to sleep in the bunker to give her some space and privacy.

Somehow she managed a smile and let out a soft laugh. “Guess I just have too much on my mind.”

Dean nodded. “Understandable,” he shoved his hands into his jean pockets and she took notice. The man must not own many clothes if he slept in jeans. If she understood his life correctly, she knew he must spend most, if not all, of his time on the road.

“Weren’t you terrified?” She asked as she tried to shift to face him. She winced only slightly at the pull of her healing wounds. Dean took a seat on the coffee table and looked down at the ground as he thought about her question.

“Sometimes,” he nodded with a slight shrug. He surprised himself with how comfortable he felt with this girl. “In the moments we were in serious shit, yeah. But I mean, this was our life. Always has been. We didn’t have a choice.”

“Neither do I, apparently,” she looked down and picked at a loose string on the plaid-print couch.

“Hey,” Dean said to pull her attention back to him. “When you understand what we do, you’ll understand why we do it.”

His tone was serious, the pressure from his gaze felt debilitating to her.

“We save people,” he stressed, his tone urging her to understand. “We hunt things that kill people.”

She nodded slowly and tried to understand how to phrase her next thought. “But in order to do that…you have to kill people?”

“Not people,” Dean corrected. “Things.” He thought it over as she shifted a bit more on her side. Dean licked his lips as he contemplated continuing. “Look, you’ve had a really long twenty-four hours…you should try to sleep. I think we’ve filled you in enough for now.”

She wanted to argue, but she figured he might be right. Her fingers gripped the blanket that was draped over her and tugged it up closer to her chest. “You’re probably right,” she nodded before continuing. “But I know sure as hell I’m not sleeping tonight…or not right now, anyway. You think Bobby has some hot chocolate or something?”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Not too sure about the hot chocolate, but I could almost guarantee the ‘or something’.”

A slight frown pulled across her face but she stood to follow Dean anyway, as she tried to ignore the sting as her bandages pulled. He popped open a cabinet, knowing his way around Bobby’s kitchen (or liquor cabinet, at least). He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and two small rocks glasses.

“Ah,” she managed a small smirk as she rested her weight on the counter on her elbows. “The ‘or something’ category usually leaves me with a headache, but with the day I’ve had…why not?”

Dean chuckled and nodded as he set the goods down in front of her. He unscrewed the cap to the Tennessee whiskey and poured two glasses, straight up. “Yeah, Bobby doesn’t usually carry the good stuff…but this’ll do. It’s the only thing that puts me to sleep these days.”

She nodded as she took her glass and tipped her head to him in thanks. “To not going totally insane,” she smirked as she held the glass in front of her.

Dean smiled and tapped his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that,” they made eye contact as they tapped their glasses back down on the wooden countertop and then took a sip.

Dean was impressed with how smoothly she seemed to take her liquor. She only winced for a moment before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Whiskey your drink of choice?” They walked back towards the living room, with her resuming her spot on the couch, but this time Dean took a seat next to her, leaving enough room in between.

“I guess I owe that to my college days,” she shrugged as her eyes glanced down at the caramel colored liquor. “You learn how to hold your alcohol when your roommate is in a sorority and you’re invited to all the socials.”

“Sororities, huh?” Dean couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. “I bet you have a lot of fun stories.”

“Number one rule of the sorority code,” she leaned a little closer before whispering. “We’ll never tell.”

Dean shook his head with a laugh and took another swig from his glass.

“What about you? You don’t seem like the fraternity kinda guy to me,” she eyed her company as Dean moved his glass around, swirling the liquid within.

“Thanks, I think,” he frowned. “I didn’t go to college. That was more Sammy’s thing.”

“Ah, right,” she nodded. “Too many monsters, not enough time, right?”

Dean smirked again. There was something about her he couldn’t seem to put his finger on. 

“What?” She caught onto his stare and seemed to fold under the pressure. Her cheeks warmed up with a pale crimson color and she found her eyes averted to the glass in her hands yet again.

“Nothing,” Dean shook his head and broke his trance from the woman beside him. “It’s just…you’re different.”

“Like crazy, psychic, prophet different? Or this girl talks too much, especially when she starts drinking, different?” A soft laugh slipped through her lips as she took another sip from her glass.

Dean felt like he had smiled one too many times tonight, but he couldn’t help the grin he felt creep upon his lips. “Just different,” he shrugged and let the comment fall off there.

Before either could say another word, a slight breeze blew throughout the room. “She needs to sleep,” Castiel appeared just in front of the window, his silhouette haunting almost.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean groaned as he closed his eyes for a moment. His newfound friend (and drinking partner) grasped at her chest, both taken by surprise. “Can you use a door or something?”

“But why?” Cas seemed genuinely thoughtful. Dean just shook his head and stood from his spot on the couch.

“Forget it,” he mumbled. “Well, angel’s orders.” He nodded back towards her. “Get some rest, you’re probably gonna need it.”

She nodded for a moment and glanced at the hardwood floor beneath her feet. “Um, Dean?” She hesitated for a moment as she gnawed at her bottom lip. She was hesitant to ask her next question as her eyes traveled over the makeshift bed in the window bay she assumed one of the boys might use regularly. She went back on the thought almost as soon as it had crossed her mind. “Nevermind. Goodnight,” she managed a smile up at the man.

Dean knew better as he eyed her carefully. His eyes followed hers to the window bed, and then traveled back to her. “Hey, uh, would you mind if I slept over there? The basement can get a little cramped with Sasquatch. Unless that makes you uncomfortable or anything,” he hurried to add in the last part, just in case his thought process wasn’t reading hers correctly.

He relaxed when he watched her smile and nod. “That would be great.”

Castiel made himself scarce, yet again, as Dean made up the makeshift bed. He moved his glass to the floor as he pulled up the blanket and rested his head on a small throw pillow. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard her whisper.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hmm?” He glanced over towards her. In the dim glow of the moon, he could make out her biting her bottom lip once more.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he whispered back. Both fell asleep with smiles on their faces, something neither thought was possible.

------------

Part Three here!

[nobodylikety]

Tiger hybrid! Leeseo 🐯

So here's baby Leeseo! since she's still a lil' baby, I thought about making it more platonic 🩷 In my mind, I think that reader! x tiger! leeseo is a relationship or siblings or besties, so it's written in that way (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

ps. I live for naughty little sister! Leeseo

tags: tiger hybrid! leeseo x fem! reader (platonic ver.), hybrid AU, fluff.

Tiger hybrid! Leeseo is literally a naughty gremlin! she is often teasing or playing childish pranks either towards hybrid! IVE or towards you <3 as she is the youngest (just a lil baby 🥺) she gets away with it...most of the time.

The fact that Tiger hybrid! Leeseo is young and smaller in stature than the rest of Hybrid! IVE, does not imply that she is chill! On the contrary, she's a destructive nuclear explosion in the form of a cute fluffball, she has a very rough way of playing, so it unintentionally breaks a thing or two (mostly your stuff, but in a lovely way)🥺

Tiger hybrid! Leeseo has a BIG SWEET TOOTH 🍬. More than once you've gone to the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning and found Leeseo tucked away in the pantry or fridge, looking for something to munch on! her range of snacks are usually desserts, such as cookies or buns <3

+ That's why you and Rei often worries that Leeseo only prefers to eat sweet things and doesn't eat well. Leeseo is the type of picky eater too, she hates veggies! so you have to feed them to her, otherwise she'll not eat them,,,

Tiger hybrid! Leeseo = tiny baby, BIG ROAR. The first time you heard Leeseo roar, you practically squealed like a scared kitten. It's a loud and harsh sound, no one would think it comes from someone as sweet as her!

Tiger hybrid! Leeseo has an active, energetic and VERY sociable personality, that's why Puppy! Yujin (who has the idea of being the leader of the pack) finds her difficult to take care of as Leeseo, since she is always hanging out with friends and doesn't pay attention to her or her orders,,, this baby tiger is sometimes a bratty lil thing :3

Tiger hybrid! Leeseo LOVES to play chase her tail!she usually sits, and as soon as her tail appears in her field of vision, wiggling like a snake, Leeseo NEEDS to chase it ٩(ˊᗜˋ *)و she gets off the sofa and runs around in circles chasing it, or just roars and nibbles at it

🐯، ﾟฅ ｡ [ Naughty tiger ]

Leeseo is, of course, the joy but also the chaos of your life. With her striped fur and playful eyes, she always finds a way to get into trouble just for fun, and just for the sake of annoy you. It's in her nature. She can't go more than half a minute without playing pranks on you and the rest of the pack, or getting into mischief that involves all of you.

Today, it's no different.

The pranks start early in the morning, and last late into the night. And they happen more than once a day.

In the morning you try to enjoy some peace before the girls wake up, reading a book and drinking some coffee in your bed.

But Leeseo decides it's the perfect time to play.

And by 'play', she means to tease you.

So she sneaks stealthily across the room, her tabby tail swaying mischievously behind her, without you even noticing her presence, because the book is too interesting, and the coffee is too good this morning to put down.

"Roar" Leeseo just roars softly, bursting your little bubble of peace and concentration, before jumping onto your lap and settling down like a kitten on top of you.

"Come on, Leeseo, not now…" you whine, trying to maintain a serious countenance. But Leeseo literally shoves the book out of your hand, not caring where it landed. And unwilling to take 'no' for an answer, she begins to ruffle your hair, her tail swaying enthusiastically. Her big feline eyes look at you with a mixture of innocence and mischief. This bloody little devil.

And then you gave in, like you always do.

Because that's how the youngest of the hybrid gang gets what she wants. She has you wrapped around her little finger.

As the day goes by, other 'Leeseo-things' happen during the afternoon.

Now she bursts into the middle of the living room, when you're in the middle of watching your favorite show on TV, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Look what I found in the garden!" exclaims Leeseo, wagging her tabby tail.

Looking up, you don't expect to see that image. Leeseo is holding Wonyoung —in her animal form, of course— between her jaws by the scruff of her neck. Wonyoung looks a little dazed, but unharmed.

She's the same adorable floppy-eared fuzzball she's always been.

Thank god Wonyo's safe.

"Leeseo! What did I tell you about carrying the other pets in your mouth?" you scold her, but you can't help but smile at her innocence. "Let go of Wonyo, she's not one of your squeaky toys!"

With a dramatic sigh, Leeseo lets go of Wonyoung, but not before giving you a 'sorry, but that was fun' look.

When Leeseo releases Wonyoung she rolls a little, before landing softly by your feet. You frown at Leeseo as you stroke Wonyoung's head, who curls up against your feet for a moment. Then she hops away a little, far enough away to return to her human form. 

"I don't know why you're always like this! We were just playing," Leeseo defends herself, with a look of innocence that fails to hide her mischievousness. "Besides, nothing happened to Wonyo." 

You rub the side of your head, with a sigh. This Leeeseo, always such a troublemaker. You know it's just her pure animal instinct, as well as her way of exploring the world, but sometimes you feel like killing her. Or hang her from a flagpole, to see if she'll stay still. 

"Leeseo, you need to be more careful. Wonyoung is not a toy," you remind her, with a certain firmness in your voice. Wonyoung is next to you, sitting on the desk and swinging her legs, and nods in agreement. 

Leeseo nods, though the mischievous spark still shines in his eyes. "Sorry, I'll keep that in mind next time," she says, though it's clear that promise might be a little hard to keep.

Because before you can say anything else, Leeseo is already planning her next caper. You know that keeping her under control is a difficult task, but you can't help but smile at her mischievous charm all the same.

After a short nap, to regain some energy after a tiring day, you stretch lazily on your bed. No more than a minute of peace and quiet passes, however, when the silence is broken by a soft roar, followed by a clattering noise from the kitchen. With a resigned sigh, you get out of bed and head towards the source of the commotion.

What you see in the kitchen is half a surprise and half not. Because Leeseo manages to turn up with another string of mischief, as she always does, and so it's no surprise. But somehow, she has dragged the rest of the girls into her chaos, which is a surprise.

You find Leeseo, the mischievous and stale tiger of the house, standing on the table with a bag of crisps in her hand, while with the other she rummages in the pantry, where the biscuit jar is.

Around the table are Yujin, Gaeul, Liz, Rei and Wonyoung. They all look absolutely willing and determined to join in the commotion.

"Hey, hey! Can you remind me what we're doing?" asks Yujin, her tail wagging as if wild with excitement.

"I'm looking for something for us to eat, but there's nothing good!" replies Leeseo with a pout.

Wonyoung jumps up on the table, reaching for the biscuits. "Let me try, I'm taller than you, Leeseo!"

Gaeul launches herself off the back of a chair, landing gracefully on the table and beginning to sniff curiously around the chips. Liz, for her part, tries to mimic Gaeul, only to fall flat on her face against a half-full bowl of all sorts of pet treats.

It's a chaotic sight, to say the least.

So Yujin keeps wagging her tail and running around in circles (stopping sometimes to play chase her tail), Leeseo and Wonyoung arguing over who's better at swiping snacks from the pantry, and Liz bumping into absolutely every single piece of furniture in the kitchen.

And where is Rei? you wonder for just a fraction of a second, before a hiss behind you gives away her location.

"I think it's time for dinner, don't you?" says Rei, nestling her head against your shoulder, seeking attention. Of the girls, she's probably the one who gives you the least headaches. Though short of a headache, she gives you some pretty good scares with her fangs and forked tongue.

You shake your head in resignation, but laugh. As you try to keep order among these hybrids, you realise that every day is a new adventure in this house full of unique animal personalities.

"Tell me, Leeseo, how do you manage to get into trouble even when you're just trying to play, or looking for something to eat?"

She looks up at you with her big feline eyes and a mischievous grin. "Because life would be boring if it wasn't!".

God, this little girl.

Leeseo is absolutely chaotic and messy, like an annoying little sister. You love her, even when she's always on the verge of giving you a heart attack because of the stupid, naughty decisions she makes. But it's Leeseo, it's impossible to resist those baby tiger eyes.

Even when she screws up.

This damn brat who always screws up, how you love the damn thing.

[yourtouchismidas]

this thought has plagued me since yesterday (mads knows) but imagine matty helping gigi make a birthday card for rg's birthday (like a milestone birthday or something) and they spend the whole day (day before the birthday) being all secretive in gigi's room and rg is not allowed to enter. and finally at midnight she's presented with 1) the card and 2) 2 babygirls covered in glue and glitter

this is so cute!

you're sitting in the lounge, in the sunlight, warm coffee in your hand and the house is quiet, peaceful. you take a sip, enjoying it, before the slow creep of suspicion infiltrates your mind. your youngest is napping but the other two, the ones who can walk and put their hands in things are up and about and should be with their father. but then again, sometimes being with matty is like having a fourth child. a big overgrown baby girl, just like your three little ones. mischief follows him and now mischief follows your girls too. especially when they are all together.

you take the baby monitor and leave the coffee. your phone starts buzzing where you left it on the table and you see it is your friend's teenage daughter mila, probably calling you to have a melt down at what to wear for your birthday party tomorrow (a meal out and then drinks back at yours, literally nothing to stress about but you know she will). you will call her back later. it's too suspiciously quiet in here. come to think of it. there should be a couple of dogs running around here too. and they're no where to be seen either.

you check the garden. the kitchen. the bathroom. your room. you peak in on baby valentine, who is sound asleep still. gigi and shay have a loft room at the top of the house and so you head up the last flight of stairs.

you can hear taylor swift music, muffled through the door, and little voices, and matty's voice cutting through to tell them to stop arguing. a dog barks inside. ah. here we go.

"erm, hello?" you say outside the door. the voices, which were loud before, stop abruptly. the taylor music carries on. even the dog is quiet.

"what are you guys doing in there?"

nothing.

"i'm coming in," you say.

you hear a little "noo!", not sure which girl it is, and scrambling, and then the door opens, just a crack, and matty's head pops out, the music getting louder.

"we thought you were having a quiet coffee," matty says.

"i was. but then i got... suspicious."

"nothing to be suspicious about!" gigi calls, from inside. matty nods, a floating head in the door way.

"hmmm," you say, "think you guys are hiding something from me."

"nope. no. nothing at all," matty says, "goodbye now."

he tries to close the door on you but you stop him.

"you can't leave me out. that makes me sad!" you say, putting on a sad voice, targeting your middle daughter, which works immediately.

"oh no!" you can hear her gasp behind the door.

"shay," gigi whispers, too loudly, "the surprise!"

matty is shaking his head at you.

"fine. fine. i guess you girls dont want me to play with you."

"that was low," he says. you smirk.

"can i least have the dogs? maybe just one? i'm lonely."

"no, sorry, they're integral to the project," matty says, then quickly, "the project that does not exist. okay then. bye now."

he closes the door. you laugh and head back downstairs where your coffee is still warm. might as well make the most of the peace.

an hour later, just when you're about to go and wake up valley, the five of them (two daughters, two dogs, one matty) come stumbling down the stairs. all five of them are covered in glitter, and paint, and matty has two red smudges of it on each cheek, one a little bigger than the other.

"oh my lord," you say, taking them all in. but your girls look so bright and are grinning and then they present you a big card, a3 size, which is covered in different coloured glitter, shimmering the floor with it as they pass it to you. it says happy birthday mummy, from your loves and on the front is a heart and inside that a four hand prints (three daughters and a matty) and two paw prints.

"we cleaned the dogs, dont worry. and the baby," matty says quickly.

you're crying and you assure them its happy tears and gather up your daughters in your arms.

"hope you have a good birthday mummy," shay says, climbing into your lap.

"i will baby," you say, "if you are all there with me."

"what about valley?" she says.

"valley too of course. i'm just going to go and get her."

you hear her crying.

"then i will come back and look more at your lovely card."

you leave the room, kissing matty's cheek as you go out and whispering that he is a nightmare.

you pick your baby girl out the cot, settling her in your arms and head back down to the rest of your family. on the way, you notice some paint on the side of her tiny wrinkled hand. you will always pretend that you didn't see two daughters, two dogs and a matty, sneaking into your sleeping baby's room and pressing her hand print on the card before wiping the paint off again, through the baby monitor. they will never know. but you will.

[lalaithquetzallicaresi]

A Sandman Urban Myth

I was re-reading @arialerendeair's "Hopefully" series (which, if there's anyone who hasn't read it, you all should go do that right now!). I absolutely love it, and afterwards I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Not, I wouldn't call it a continuation of Aria's fic, just an insane idea, a sort-of Urban Myth that might come to be in the future in her verse:

There's a place in the South of London, near the river, called "The New Inn" (though if you ask anyone, it's not new at all. Some claim it's been there for at least a few decades, others, centuries... while there are even those who'll insist the Inn has simply Always been there. The place is managed by a very... peculiar group. They claim to all be family, though very few have any physical similarities among them. And yet, despite it very much being a pub, most regulars claim that they feel as if they were visiting an old friend's home when they're there. An old, well-loved home, the kind they used to only be able to think of when remembering their early childhoods. But that's not all. Aside from the official bartender, there are two people who usually help. One will always make your drink, blind, before you ever ask it of them; the other will make you a drink of them, and even if it's not what you planned on ordering, it will always be what, deep down, you truly wanted. In the kitchen there's a young woman who's not the cook, but claims she loves learning to cook new dishes, usually pies and cakes and pastries, that use fresh fruit and vegetables. Her dishes are never on the menu, but she'll always share them with whoever is around, and her food will make you feel a peace most will insist can only be found in the afterlife. In a corner in the back of the room, away from the fireplace and the windows, there's always a woman seated. She's almost always by herself, drinking cold coffee and saying nothing. But if you're having a bad day (or a bad week, or a bad month!) you can sit with her, and she'll listen to you. She'll give you the chance to vent all your grief, and your pain and your anger. Won't give you any false platitudes, or lies, and won't judge you. And when you're finished, when you're ready to move on, she'll smile at you, just a small smile, barely there at all, and you'll feel relief... It's an old place, so of course things break sometimes, but that's okay. Because there's this huge mountain of a man who's always there when something needs to be fixed... or when someone needs a hug. And this girl who's always running all around the place, giggling and saying all sorts of things, but she never bothers anyone. It's... nice, to see that there's still some delight in the world. Even when things seem so crazy. And then there's the owners. They always sit together in the same table by the fireplace. Always talking among themselves, like they're in their own little world. Until someone approaches them, a child, or a yound student, or an aspiring artist. All sorts of people will aproach them, looking for help of some kind, asking questions, or sometimes just needing a kind word, and they'll always get it. The owners never seem to mind the interrupt, seem to even thrive on talking to others, on listening to their stories, on helping them out. Some say it's like they can almost make dreams come true... No one knows just how long The New Inn has been there, or the people there, some say it's been forever. But well, that's just a myth, right? In any case, I hope they always will be...

So... am I insane or what? Aria, I hope you don't mind this little piece of insanity. I just couldn't help myself. I love your fics so much!!!

P.S. "Hopefully" can be found right here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3178776