#and now i feel like my relationship is falling apart with my roommate every time i try and vent about my lack of creativity

[teapsoon]

my mental health hasnt been this bad in years

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BLAME IT ON THE BLACK STAR — hayakawa aki

summary . . . maybe aki’s in the wrong for all the mixed signals he sends you, but it’s your fault for always picking up the phone.

contents . . . f!reader, angst, complicated relationships, smoking, miscommunication, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, ambiguous ending, hurt/comfort i suppose — 5.6k

notes . . . this is my first time writing for aki so pls be nice i’m nervous hdjwjwk <33 i’m not all the way caught up w csm so it might be inaccurate idk

Aki calls you, sometimes, when he’s feeling lonely. You figure, by now, he must have your number memorized, with how frequently your phone ends up ringing. 

Of course, you always pick up, knowing you shouldn’t, knowing it’ll just end up hurting. But you can’t help yourself, really. You’re incredibly weak for a man that you know will never commit his life to you. You learned that lesson a long time ago. 

Still, you’re a fool who refuses to move on. 

Instead, you stand, shivering in the cold in front of Aki’s door, waiting for him to answer it. The lights are off in the apartment — you have no idea where his new roommates are for the evening, but they clearly aren’t there. Aki wouldn’t have called you otherwise; you’re certain he doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you, save for those that have known since the beginning.  

Heavy footsteps pad across the floor, and then the lamp in the hallway flicks on, illuminating the threshold in a beam of yellow. The door unlatches, opening just a crack, as his blue eyes drift down to trail over you. 

“You got here faster than I thought.” 

“I’m freezing, Aki,” you say, pushing through the door. His palm falls away, rests at his sides. Its only eight o’clock, but he’s already in sweatpants, a loose sweatshirt hanging over his tall frame. Dark hair falls across his cheeks, still damp from his earlier shower. 

“Sorry,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “I was in the bathroom.” 

You don’t reply, and shrug your coat off instead, hanging it on the rack that is now full of jackets that don’t belong to him. But you’re barely able to get it onto the hook before Aki has a palm around your wrist, tugging you towards him, the smell of his body wash and shampoo lingering in a cloud around him. 

A little welp of surprise leaves you as you spin around, nearly falling into his chest. Instead, you collide with his mouth, the heat already settling down on you as heavily as it always does when Aki is around.

He kisses you, long and hard, hungry for the taste of you, his head craned down to meet your height. For a moment, you let him. It’s sweet and familiar, all the things you’ve ever wanted.

In moments like these, you indulge in thoughts of a life where things are different. A life where Aki can greet you at the door, smile when you kiss him, instead of the pensive expression he always wears. A life where Aki doesn’t come home with new scars every few days, where he isn’t hell-bent on a goal you’re not sure he can ever achieve.

That dream of yours won’t ever become a reality, but it doesn’t stop you from savoring the taste of his mouth against your own — how much you’ve missed it, even when you shouldn’t. 

When you’ve run out of air to breathe, you push him away, and Aki stands straight, blinking like he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. 

“Not even going to offer to make me dinner?” you ask, keeping him at a distance. Although you meant for it to sound playful, teasing, it comes off full of a bitter resentment. Your face is probably drawn up into a scowl, even if you can’t see it.

Aki blinks, rubbing his forearm. His lips part, then he shuts them, furrowing his eyebrows together. “You said you were cooking — over the phone, you said you’d already eaten.” 

“Well, at least you remember that.” 

Confusion spreads even further, tighter, stretching to every corner of his expression. Aki’s hands twitch listlessly at his side, just as his mouth does. “Are you upset with me?” he asks, and you know he’s smarter than that, that he might not be the most sensitive to others’ emotions, but he is certainly no fool when it comes to yours. “If you didn’t want to come over tonight, I wasn’t forcing you.” 

A laugh almost escapes you — instead, you muster up a cool grimace. Like you aren’t going drop everything for Aki every time he says I don’t want to be alone tonight. 

Really, it was laughable how tightly he had you in the palm of his hand, and you can’t fathom that he would think otherwise. You’ve always done whatever he needed; given him whatever he wanted. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?” you ask finally, swallowing back your annoyance as you gesture towards the bandage around his arm. It’s wrapped up tight, but the bandages are fresh, still a starched white. 

His eyebrows tighten further. The air around him changes, even though his expression doesn’t. “Who told you about that?” 

“Himeno.” 

Aki purses his lips. “I didn’t realize you two were friends now.” 

You did laugh then, shaking your head as you make your way into the living room, looking for any subtle changes in his apartment. There are new pairs of shoes that certainly don’t belong to him, a sweatshirt that looks about two sizes too small. 

“I wouldn’t really say we’re friends,” you shrug, not bothering to look at him. The air in the room is somehow off-putting, and you take it in like it’s the first you’d ever seen of the place. “But how else am I supposed to find out if you’re still alive?” 

You give him a sad little smile, and slowly, the irritation seeps out of his face, his shoulders slumping. He looks tired, then — far too old for a man that is still so young. 

“It wasn’t that serious. I’m fine now, aren’t I?” Aki gestures to his arm, flails it wildly, as if to prove it’s still working properly. “Just a scratch.”

“It is serious. It’s serious to me,” you say, narrowing your eyes, and though his tone is warmer, he doesn’t smile at you, not like he used to. He maintains a vague air of surprise, while dampening any emotion that could cloud over his lack of understanding. It annoys you to no end, that he won’t let you see him.“I’m always worried about you, idiot. Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel about you.” 

Aki blinks, then draws his lips together in a thin line, shaking his head. Although you were pointedly avoiding each other’s gazes, you could feel the tension drawing you together like a cord. 

God, you missed him every time you were apart. You went to your regular job, thought all day about the man who would never love you like you loved him, wondering if he was okay, if he’d pick up the phone and call you again next week. Or if, one day, it would be Himeno instead, telling you that you’d never see him again — or, god forbid, Makima, with her careless tone of authority. That thought alone haunts you even with your eyes open.

But for now, it’s still Aki who calls you, and every time, you are overwhelming relieved to hear the sound of his voice again. Heavy tears always drop down your cheeks as you dig the phone into your ear, wishing that it was his mouth there instead, and wishing that those pretty blue eyes still looked at you with the same sort of softness they once had. 

“I told you…” Aki begins sharply, but then he trails off, finally meeting your gaze. His features pinch once more, melodramatic, as he scans the sadness that you could never hide in your expression. “Damn it.” Car lights flash over his face through the window as someone drives past the apartment complex. The darkness of the room becomes even more evident when they disappear.

“I know,” you say, resigned, as you watch him scrub his hands over his face, and inhale heavily. It’s hard for you to keep your emotions from getting the best of you. “You’ve reminded me — many times. I know this doesn’t mean we’re back together. I know, Aki.”

His jaw parts, lips faltering at the beginning of a phrase. Despite his tall frame, he falters, looking so small, as sadness filters into the eyes that shine a deep navy in the shade of the evening. Beside him his fingers twitch, curling up into his palm, before he takes two long strides towards you. 

The mere second it takes him to get there passes without your memory, and your back hits the door to his bedroom, softly, as he looms over you, fingers brushing your cheeks. 

A thousand times you’ve been in this position, and it’s so familiar that your hand reaches up instinctively, splaying across his chest. Aki’s breaths leave him, deeply, expanding through his lungs before he exhales them across your cheekbones, oxygen splitting at the bridge of your nose. “What’s wrong?” you ask quietly, blinking up at him from under your lashes. 

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice comes out on a hoarse whisper.

“Hm?” You dig your fingers into his sweatshirt, the material thick and warm. “What did you mean?” 

Tenderly, his thumb brushes across the hollows of your cheek, the sharp bone that juts out. Aki’s fingertips are so rough and calloused, but that familiarity brings a sob out of you, your hands springing up to grab his wrists. “That I’m not fooling anyone,” Aki says, swallowing, eyes roaming all over your face. “That I can’t stay away from you, no matter how hard I try.”

Your lips part, but your breath is stolen away by another kiss, blanketing your mouth, warm and with an emotion that you’re certain you can taste. It takes you less than a moment for you to close your eyes, to relax into him as always, melt into his familiarity. The taste of the cigarettes he smokes lingers on his tongue, seeping deep into your own lungs. 

As he bumps his nose with your own, you reach up, run your fingers through his hair, untangling all the knots that have accumulated since his shower. At the same time, Aki palms at the door behind you, not bothering to look up as he fumbles for the door handle, slipping it open.

Aki always kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, struggling to unglue you from himself. He kisses you like he knows he’s going to leave again, and it might be for the very last time. 

It’s a sickening emotion to live with, but you’ve accepted it all the same. 

You ignore the feelings that never leave you alone when you’re with Aki, and stumble backwards into the room, feet catching under you. Although you nearly fall, Aki catches you, arms heavy around your waist, large palm spreading across your lower back. 

“You’re so pretty,” he says, nearly carrying you to his bed. The two of you latch so tightly onto the other, that you will surely go tumbling down if either of you makes the wrong move. “I’ve never met anyone as pretty as you.” 

“Aki,” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear that.” 

He stumbles, and you do fall onto the bed, then, his heavy body on top of you, landing with a thud. But he’s careful to catch himself, to tuck his arms into the space beside you, as he kisses across your cheeks, down your neck, to your chest. 

“Why?” he asks into your skin, voice low and rough. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” his tone is dry, sarcastic. Aki’s fingers fumble with the zipper on your jeans, slipping your pants off faster than you can inhale a fresh set of air into your lungs. “Want me to prove it to you?”

Despite your lingering resentment, you crack a smile, shift your hips so he can pull your bottoms off completely. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall in love with me again?” you say off-handedly, running your hands along the edge of his shirt, before slipping cold fingers under it. His skin is hot there, abdomen soft, muscle just as lean as it was last week, but stronger than when you’d first met him. 

Aki’s eyes soften. “Why would I be afraid of a thing like that?” 

You don’t like the double meaning in his words, and you don’t want to read into it. Instead, you pull Aki back down to your mouth, hoping he’ll take and take from you, even though he’s always one to give. The one who calls you, who needs to be inside of you, but won’t worry about himself until you’ve come apart at least once. 

“Feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he says, pushing your thighs further apart, muttering the words against your lips. His fingers graze the outside of your panties, as you slowly begin to wet them with desire that burns hot in your stomach. “I missed you.” 

You feel his smile curl as he kisses across your chest, around your collarbones, and you sit up far enough to slide your shirt off. Aki does the same — there are fresh scars on his body, healing wounds. You can’t look at them for too long, before grief rises up in you, mourning a man that is not yet dead. 

“Whose fault is that?” you ask bitterly, pushing the top of his head to sink him to your thighs. Instead, he takes his time pressing his mouth around your belly, swirling his tongue just past your hips. 

A sigh leaves you, and you sink deeper into the mattress, eyes blinking closed. He’s so slow, so deliberate with every movement, like he’s been waiting all of this time just to lose himself in you. Ridiculous, really, considering that he could have you at anytime, and he knows it. 

You’d hate him for it, for stringing you along like this, but that would be hypocritical, really. You’re the fool that continues to play the game. 

Aki ignores your passing comment, squeezing your thighs as his face drifts down your body. His hair brushes against your bare skin, still a bit damp, but so soft, the scent of his soap so familiar you could pick out the shampoo with your eyes closed. 

“Want my fingers or my mouth first?” Aki whispers into the inside of your thigh, kissing the delicate skin there as he looks up at you from under thick, black lashes. They flutter over his cheekbones, the hollows of his eyes, and he’s so pretty… it’s no wonder you’re so far gone for him. “Since you’re in such a mood tonight, I’ll let you choose.” 

There’s a tiny smirk on his face, and even though you’re about to answer, Aki takes it upon himself to kiss your cunt through your panties, the fabric sticking to your skin. 

“A-aki,” you stutter, caught off-guard, fingers lacing through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. “You didn’t give me a chance to answer.” 

He drags his tongue up your clothed cunt, wetting it even further, so you can’t tell if you’re soaked from his spit or your own arousal. “I picked instead. Like the way you moan when my mouth’s on you,” he says off-handedly, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling, still so shy when it comes to his dirty mouth. “No one’s here,” Aki continues, words vibrating against the bone, puffs of air drifting around your sensitive area. “Want you to be loud.” 

A tiny laugh escapes you, but it is quickly stolen by a whimper as he sucks your clit into his mouth through the cotton of your underwear, an old pair that was anything but sexy. Although, you’ve known Aki for so long, been with him for so long, there’s never any reason to try and impress him. 

“Feels good,” you say, closing your eyes as you rest on the pillow. Aki pushes his tongue against your hole, teasing. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs, keeping them from locking around his head as you search for more friction. Your chest rises and falls with the heat of your breathing, but Aki doesn’t let you rub yourself against his tongue, doesn’t let you move much, really. “Aki,” you whine, and though there are times when he doesn’t let you get your way, this isn’t one of them.

“So impatient,” he says cheekily, but he slips your panties to the side, your cunt vulnerable to the frigid winter air. You shiver, and he sinks his tongue into you completely, the heat of it warming you as he swirls it inside, spreading you further open with his fingers. 

Your body grows hot all over when Aki thrusts his tongue in and out of your aching walls, your juices seeping onto his tongue. He moves slowly, savoring every moment that you’re in his bed, even as you try to arch into him, speed him up so that you can orgasm faster. He’s right: you are impatient, because it’s been days since you’ve last felt him inside of you, and nothing feels as good as Aki’s thick fingers and cock. 

His nose bumps your clit as he drags his tongue in a thick stripe up your cunt. A moan leaves you, and without thinking, you jerk your hips up, forcing them towards his face. The sound from your chest is so lewd, and you’ll feel shy about how loud you were later, but all you can think about is his mouth on you. 

Aki smiles, kisses the inside of your thigh. When he lifts his head, the ache inside you burns deeper, the sight of him with saliva and fluid dripping down his chin almost too much for you to handle. “Taste so good,” he hums, massaging the skin around your knees, hoisting your calves up over his shoulder blades. “Think you can cum from just my tongue, baby? You’re so pent up, I don’t think you can last much longer.” 

You whimper, pressing your heels into his back as Aki’s tongue resumes lapping up your cunt, long and hot, massaging the most sensitive spots inside of you. You can tell he’s hard, aching as he shifts his hips awkwardly, trying not to press them in the bed. 

Aki picks up his speed, head bobbing slightly as the heat insides of you builds; normally, you would’ve lasted longer, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve even touched yourself, and your most recent orgasm must have been with Aki. 

You don’t tell him when you’re close, but he already knows, sucking harder on your clit as you finally come, body jerking into him, walls spasming. Your eyes squeeze shut, and his name leaves your lips much quieter than he would’ve liked. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Aki says, tugging off his sweatpants, the only layer between you and his cock. His dark hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, the way you’d pulled at him, tried to guide him where you wanted him, even if he already knew. “So easy for you to get me hard, you know that?” His cock is leaking at the tip, desperate for release, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “Just the thought of you spread out like this is enough.” 

A desperate whine leaves you, and you reach behind, unclasping the straps of your bra, the last remaining garment between you and Aki. He grins at that, his canines so sharp, teeth a little crooked, but the prettiest smile you’d ever seen because you see it so rarely. 

“Gonna play with those pretty tits while I fuck you, baby?” 

“Fuck, Aki, please,” you groan, reaching for him, pulling his mouth to your own. You kiss him hard, hoping that he knows you love him, and hoping that he feels guilty about that fact. “Want you inside me. God, I need you so bad.” 

He presses his forehead to your own, lining his cock up with your entrance, the head prodding at your gaping walls. You get so sensitive, even from just one orgasm, that you wince a little bit. But the uncomfortable feeling eases as he presses into you, kisses you sweetly.

“Fuck, fuck,” Aki groans, biting down hard on your shoulder. “God, you’re so wet, so warm. You feel so good around my cock, baby. Such a pretty girl for me.” 

Your nails dig into his back as he slides, slowly, out of you, before he thrusts back in, still not rough enough for your liking. Aki’s hair falls around his face, his mouth parting just a bit, focus dilating his irises. His biceps flex as he holds himself off the bed, snapping his hips into your aching cunt. 

“H-harder,” you mumble, trying not to shout, to moan too loudly into the open air of the evening. Aki’s walls are far too thin, and his neighbors know who you are. The last thing you want is for them to see you as Aki’s fuck-buddy that moans like a bitch in heat. “Please, sweetheart.” 

Aki groans, a deep sound that reverberates all the way from his chest down to his stomach. The affectionate name twists something up in him, and Aki thrusts his hips faster, kisses your forehead, your cheeks, any part of your skin that he can get his mouth on. His hair tickles your jaw, nose nudging against your face as he mumbles into your skin, “so needy, aren’t you? I want to take my time with you, and you just want to get off.” 

“Can’t help it, Aki,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you buck your hips upward. “God, you feel so good, I lo—”

You stop the words from leaving your mouth, but Aki already knows. He’s known it for a while now, and you should be embarrassed by the fact that you can’t let him go. 

Wide blue eyes stare back at you, full of something you can’t define, but still so soft as he pulls away. He draws you closer, slides your legs around his hips before pinning your own to the bed with large, heavy palms. Aki’s built with all lean muscle, and he’s so tall — so much taller than you that it’s easy to forget because he treats you so gently. Still, he blankets your body, makes you feel small in the nicest way. 

Because you know that even though he can never commit his love to you, he’d never let anything — human or devil — lay a finger on you. You love him, you love him, you love him.

Aki follows your wishes, sinks faster inside of you as you exhale heavily. Your nails dig into his back so tightly that you start to worry you’ll break the skin. But Aki loses himself in the feeling of you, panting into your chest as he moves his hips. 

“F-fuck,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not going to last long inside you like this. Maybe I should slow down—”

“No, no, I’m close,” you stumble over your words, meeting Aki’s intense eyes, a thousand emotions relayed in them as he blinks at you. “It’s okay.”

“God,” he mutters, whispers the word between you, even though you’re certain he hasn’t believed in him for a while, and you’re not sure you do either. “I don’t deserve you.” 

You wonder if Aki meant to say that at all, so you let it go, let the words exist between you as if they were never there at all. 

His palm guides it’s way across your stomach, the touch featherlight, before he reaches for your breast, thumb flicking across your nipple. The nail catches, and you moan, almost there once more. Aki’s cock hitting all the right places, so much better than your own fingers.

“Aki,” you say his name over and over, your mind going numb from thinking about him. 

“I know,” Aki mutters against your lips, hot air ghosting across them on his exhale. “You’re okay. Let go for me, baby. Did so good for me, want you to cum on my cock.” 

His voice, so deep and rough in your ears, sends you over the edge, and a sound forces its way up your throat as you clench down on him, your cunt spasming from your orgasm. It hits you harder than you’d been anticipating, legs squeezing around Aki’s hips as you dig your toes into the mattress. 

“There we go,” Aki wipes your hair away from your face, kissing your temples, so gently that you think you might cry. It’s not fair for him to be so sweet, so loving when you know he’s going to kick you out of his apartment before the night is over. “My pretty girl. Shit,” Aki mumbles, cursing lowly before pulling out of you, quick, and spilling into his palm. It takes him less than a stroke down the length of his cock, the thick cum spurting out, falling onto your hips, beside you on the mattress. 

It’s not your mess to clean, though, and you can’t bring yourself to care. Breathing heavily, you watch Aki fumble for something on his nightstand, before he gives up, wiping his wet hand on the already soiled bedsheets. Then, he collapses down onto his side, staring, watching your chest rise and fall. 

“Aki,” you say, turning away from his eyes to stare at the ceiling, the cracked plaster, stained from water leaks. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

Silence falls across the room, and you can’t bear to look at him, refusing to see the indifference on his face. There’s nothing, he says nothing, before sitting back up, shuffling through the nightstand once more. 

The beams of streetlights sway against his silhouette, encased in a beautiful swirl of purple and navy hues. His hair seems an even darker curtain, coiling around his jaw as he hides from you, hides the emotion that was less than evident on his face. 

You sigh, and flip back on your side. 

Aki takes a few drags of the cigarette, puffing them into the stale air. It reeks, probably, in the tiny bedroom, but all you can smell is the tangy scent of Aki’s soap, the lavender that lingers on his skin, the cleanness of the linens that have been recently washed. This apartment, sometimes, feels more like home than your lonely one does, even though being with Aki is almost like being on your own, sometimes. 

“Those things are going to kill you,” you say under your breath, still fascinated by the way the smoke draws deep into his lungs, puffs out in a cloud, relaxes him easily. His veiny palms flex, long, slender fingers holding the cigarette between them. 

Aki doesn’t laugh, but it’s close to one, a snort almost, as he breathes again. “Not like I’ll be alive much longer, anyway.” 

“You sound like Himeno.” 

“Do I?” 

You sniff, and scoot up against the wall, sitting beside him. Despite your argument, you take the cigarette from him, smoke it yourself, and place your lips around the exact place where Aki’s had been. He watches with the same rapt fascination, blinking slowly, before staring at the ceiling as you had before. 

It’s Himeno he should be with now, really. Another Devil Hunter. A woman he can fuck without getting his feelings all mixed up, someone who probably understands him better than you do. He’s never loved her like he loved you, and she wouldn’t take offense to it either, you think. 

But it’s you he calls instead. It’s you who is too weak to leave.

“I’m sorry,” Aki whispers.

“So am I.” 

You reach across him, press the cigarette into the ashtray and drop what’s left of it amongst the other ends. Aki’s fingertips dance along your spine as you do so, and you wish he wouldn’t touch you, wish he’d just kick you out of the bed, toss you out of the apartment, spit at you like you weren’t anything but a whore. 

Instead, he kisses your shoulder, draws you in close, curls his tall frame around your body, and drags you back down into the bed. 

It hurts more than you want to admit, because this is what you want. You’d truly go the rest of your life, never have sex with him again, if he’d always hold you like you meant something to him. 

“I need to go home,” you say, remembering that you still haven’t eaten dinner, that you’d left your things in disarray, your clothes unfolded on your bed. There was never a reason to before, because with Aki, you’d always go home, just before the last train. You’d be tucked into your bed that same evening after a nice shower. “Aki…” 

“Stay.” He kisses your collarbone and shoulder again, throws his thigh over your own, and traps you against his body. “Please stay. You can wear that T-shirt of mine you like so much. I’ll make you breakfast. You can meet Power and Denji, and then I’ll take you home tomorrow morning.” 

You swallow, damning your weak-willed heart for succumbing so easily. Fingers curl around his wrists as you bask in his embrace, how warm he is, despite normally running so cold. “Aki,” you whisper again, tears welling along your eyelashes. “You can’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.” 

“Do what?” His voice is just as quiet as your own, and he’s still kissing you, holding you like you’re something precious. But he is surely not that stupid about your feelings, to how he has been tearing you apart for the past year, even though you let him. 

You sniff, trying not to cry, never wanting to embarrass yourself, even if you have sobbed in his arms on numerous occasions. “You must know that I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. Even if I marry someone after you die, I’m certain your name will still be etched into the chains on my heart. I’m just a stupid, dumb girl.” 

He says nothing, and you do cry, then, tears streaming down your face as you twist away, stare out the curtained window, the thin fabric fluttering from the heat that kicks on. 

“Please don’t call me anymore. Just let me hurt for awhile, so I can get over you. You’re so selfish, so selfish, why can’t I just move on?” You bury your face in your hands, wipe your tears, try to fight against him as he pulls you into his strong chest, kisses the top of your head. Still, even then, even when you want to hate him, you’re putty in his heads, melting and craving the place in his arms that feels like home. 

“I can’t let you go,” Aki says, wiping your tears. “Fuck, I can’t — I need you. Do you understand? I need you, and I know I’m a selfish piece of shit, but I don’t want you to move on.” He frowns, clenching his jaw, twisting his expression up. “I’ll be better.” 

“Aki—”

“I’ll love you like you need, honey. I thought,” Aki scrubs his palm over his face, the other still stroking across your back. “I thought it’d make it easier, all this distance between us, to let you go. I can’t put you in danger, but I can’t stop loving you either.” 

You inhale sharply, leaning your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, committing the harmony to your memory. Who knows how much longer it will be in there, how much longer Aki will allow it to exist before he destroys himself completely. 

“Aki, you’ll never love me like I need, because you’ll always put your work first,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “I realized that a long time ago.” 

He shifts, pushing you away so you could look each other in the eye, the astounding resoluteness in his irises. How serious he was about trying to be someone he was not. “I can try.” 

You sob.

And you wish you could just say no; say no and walk away, forget his name, never answer the phone again, never call Himeno to check up and make sure he’s still breathing. 

But you can’t — it’ll never be that easy. 

Pushing him away, you rest your head back on the pillow, trying to make yourself comfortable as you turn your back to him. Perhaps, the morning will give you clarity. You’ll stay, but you’re not sure for how long. 

“I’m tired.” 

Aki curls against you, rests his arm around your hip, kisses your neck, cheek, temple. “Okay,” he relents, holding you close, chest pressed against your spine. “I meant what I said about breakfast. Maybe we can talk about it then?” 

You want to say no, but you won’t. He’ll kiss you in the morning, and you’ll kiss him back. Settle on your knees and give him a blowjob while he’s still groggy, before slipping on his T-shirt, chattering off his ear as he makes you breakfast. You’ll probably even curl your arms around his stomach from behind, stand on you tiptoes to reach the space between his shoulder blades. 

Power and Denji will come home at some point, and probably say something rude, as Aki says they do to everyone. Then you’ll go home, and you’ll still be in love with him, and Aki will forget the conversation even happened, because he’ll say anything to get you to stay. 

Or, maybe, he’s being honest. Maybe he will love you like you want him to. 

Less than likely.

“Okay, Aki,” you agree, too tired to argue or acknowledge the emptiness in your stomach. “We’ll talk about it in then.”

reblogs appreciated!! thank you for reading!

[erinfern0]

roommates to lovers.

kyle "gaz" garrick x gn!reader

summary: getting a roommate seems like the best idea to help you with financial problems, especially with expensive rent, bills, and all. Kyle seems like the perfect fit, maybe not just as your roomie.

warnings: just sweet fluff, maybe a tiny bit emotional.

a/n: this is the first addition to my series of trope-based COD fics, let me know if you'd like to know the full list of my ideas before I post the fics as a masterlist!! Don't mind possible mistakes, I'll fix them tomorrow. I'm just a little tipsy now, but I really wanted to post this already!!

Barely getting ends to meet, you search the internet for possibilities of making your situation better. That's how you get the idea — finding yourself a roommate might at least help your financial issues a bit. You find some groups and chats for people looking for places to stay, and you stumble upon Kyle. A guy who knows it's better to share an apartment since most of the time he's away on deployment, so it's way cheaper than buying one for himself. Looking through his application, you found him interesting, to say the least.

Young sergeant, a gym rat who likes to cook and doesn't mind taking over all the chores whenever he's back. He doesn't listen to music loudly, likes his place clean and tidy, and seems charismatic. A perfect fit for you — who would get too stressed out if you had to see him every day. But he's home for a couple of days and leaves for deployment, so you don't need to worry that much.

Soon, he moved in with you, and you immediately felt a slight spark between you. You spend so much time together, that you seem to forget how life went without him beside you. Every time you accidentally brush against him in the hallway or in the kitchen, you feel that warm electricity. You start liking him and feel upset since in a few days he'll be gone again.

For the past months, your friends have been teasing you about your 'strange' relationship. How protective and caring he was of you, how you always had to touch each other in some sort of way. They've been mentioning how oblivious you two were and how you're practically a couple already, but you'd just ignore them.

It was only now that you felt they might have been right all along. Just a roommate, a friend at best wouldn't miss him as much as you did and you missed him way more than you thought this time. Getting a message from him didn't help you at all. A simple text, just after midnight, almost made you cry.

Gyle Karrick: It will take longer than expected. Three months, they say. Can't wait to see you again, xoxo

And fuck, you couldn't wait to see him, too.

Weeks passed on numerous phone calls whenever you could get a hold of him through his busy schedule. Lonely meals, mundane chores, and even your passions started to bore you to your limits. One of the few things you were looking forward to was his message. But day after day, you'd experience the same disappointment and worry.

That was until one day you were looking through selfies you took together or pictures of him while he was asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Adorable. Oh, you missed him. Later on that day, you sat in the living room, reading through your notes and textbooks to occupy your mind, as you heard someone try to open the door with their key.

It was late, you thought. That it's just your mind playing tricks on you, but no. Seconds later, he's inside the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible as he thinks you should be sleeping. He sees the lights are on and freezes, unsure how to act. But as soon as you stand up from the couch, he drops the duffle bag he was holding, catching you as you run into his arms.

Unspoken greetings and a warm and tight hug almost made you two fall to the floor. But none of you seem to care, too occupied with hands wrapping around each other's bodies. Kyle looks into your eyes as you lean back, his gaze is so soft, so sweet, you seem to melt with the brown of them.

You're not sure when, but you lean forward, lips catching his. It's quick, he barely registers it. You want to apologize, feeling the warmth of your cheeks, the dizziness in your head. But he comes right back, kissing you again. This time, it's slow and sweet, just as you imagined him to be all those nights when he was away. You reach to his neck, wrapping your arms around it as he cups your face, pulling you closer.

“You're home,” you whisper breathlessly as soon as you pull away, your eyes meeting his lazily. The happiness of your voice makes him chuckle and point out how it was just a couple of months.

He, the sergeant with god-like attractiveness, bright mind, and silly humor, felt the same way you did. Kyle reminded himself of all the lonely nights he spent on deployment, imagining coming back to your shared apartment to see your gorgeous face again, to hear that sweet laugh, and to just enjoy the warmth of your body against his.

None of you expected the kiss or the butterflies flying around in your stomachs that came afterward, but it was more than perfect. His hand gently caressed the single tear that was running down your face and kissed the spot right after.

“You're my home.”

masterlist | request info

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |4|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Leave That For The Adults

Summary: Tara has been driving herself crazy trying to figure out what she's feeling and you're not making it any better. And you get stuck having dinner with a certain teeth edging family member

Warning(s): Some angst, swearing, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication, dry heaving, gagging & throwing up

Notes: We get to see a little more of R's past in this one and I think you're gonna like one specific scene I wrote 🤭

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

For what felt like the millionth time, three out of four of the ”core four” were over at your apartment to hangout with Anika. You, of course, like every time before, were hiding in your room—at least hiding is what Anika called it, but she couldn’t outright prove that. It wasn’t like you being in your room for hours at a time was out of the ordinary.

Each time they came over, Anika would try to convince you to hangout with them but your answer was always the same. They were just never your crowd, not now nor highschool, and you were fine with that. Anika, on the other hand, cared. She wanted you to get to know these people. They were her girlfriend’s friends, and now they’re her own—of course she wants you to find some common ground. She was fully aware of your rocky relationship with Tara, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. 

According to Mindy, your hatred for each other began out of the blue in high school. Her girlfriend still remembers when just hearing the faint sound of your voice was enough to put Tara on edge, and it seems it still does.

This was definitely going to take a lot more work than Anika initially thought…

“Chad, I swear, if you don’t stop throwing that blue shell at me,” Tara said in a threatening voice as she swerved along with her kart.

“It’s not my fault your Mario Kart reflexes suck—” Tara threw a pillow at him, “—Hey! No pillow throwing!”

“And…. victory is mine!” Mindy cheered as she raised her arms victoriously. “Take that, losers!” She continued the cheer, bragging away, as the others continued to groan.

“Since we agreed the glorious winner gets to choose where to eat, I say that diner around the corner,” she said, a satisfied expression still plastered on her face due to her win.

“Alright, I’m gonna take a leak before we go,” Chad sighed, evident defeat in his voice.

A light bulb goes off above Anika's head, a slight smile crossing her face at her thought. It’s practically full proof, she thinks to herself. “I’ll just be a second,” she tells Mindy and Tara before walking down the hall to your bedroom door and knocking.

“Yeah?” she hears you call out from the other side.

“We’re going to that diner around the corner, wanna come?” she asked you.

Well, shit. She knew damn well it was your favorite place to eat, its only flaw being it doesn’t deliver. Your groaning and shuffling could be heard by Anika, she knew she got you this time. You confirmed it when you swung your door open and said, “Sure, I’ll go.” 

She looked at you—it almost looked like she was analyzing you or something. You weren’t wearing anything terrible… right? You were wearing jeans and a Batman t-shirt, but you guess the t-shirt wasn’t enough for the chill fall weather in your roommate’s eyes. 

“Aren’t you going to be a bit cold?” she asked. At this, you rolled your eyes as you turned around and grabbed your older brother’s letterman jacket that was draped over your chair.

 “This should do the trick. Happy, Mom?” 

She smiled, rolling her eyes, before saying, “Very. Now come on.”

You trailed behind them the entire walk to the restaurant, since it was just around the corner the walk wasn’t long. When you all arrived at the restaurant, Anika made sure you sat at the booth with them—but she couldn’t stop you from hiding behind your menu, staring at its contents as if you weren’t going to just order your usual.

 Anika and Mindy sat on your side of the booth, and Ethan, Chad and Tara sat in front of you. Multiple conversations were happening around you, you were blocking it all out before the sound of your name made you blink. 

“So, Y/N, you’re into Batman?” you heard a voice ask. You put down your menu and slightly tilted your head as you looked at the curly haired boy who sat across from you. “It’s—It’s just I noticed your Batman shirt,” he stuttered as he briefly pointed to your shirt.

You slightly glanced down at your shirt. “Oh, yeah. He’s cool. You?”

He smiled, happily nodding. A conversation between the two of you eventually picked up. The conversation being Ethan excitedly asking you questions and you responding with short answers or a hum. But during all this, you couldn’t help but feel like someone was looking at you. It was probably just your mind playing tricks on you yet again, so you tried to ignore it. 

Eventually the food came, pausing your conversation with Ethan. You were quietly munching on one of your fries when Tara spoke up. “So, Y/N…” Here we go, “You only come out of your room for food and the occasional bathroom breaks… You’re kind of like a deer,” she chuckled before sipping her water. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “A dear?” you practically scoffed. “What—well you’re five foot nothin,’ I don’t know why you’re talkin.’ Not to mention you’re bambi reincarnated,” you shot back. This wasn’t the first time somebody’s compared your habits to a deer.

“I’m five foot one!” she defended. “And what do you mean I’m bambi?”

“Those stupid eyes of yours—don’t change the subject! Why are you keepin’ track of my routine, anyway, huh?” 

“Oh, you are so full of it,” Tara said while crossing her arms. 

“Full of what? I haven’t accused you of anything yet, my little stalker. Simply asking,” you smugly replied with a shrug. 

Ugh, how Tara wanted to ki—smack that smug look right off your face. “Don’t you still sleep with a Spider-Man plushie?” she retorted before taking another sip from her water, her eyes never pulling from you. 

“Technically I don’t sleep with him, he just sits on my nightstand,” you embarrassingly admit in a quiet voice before you realize something. “Wait—how do you know about him?” you asked with a tilt in your head.

She suddenly avoids your eyes as she swirled her straw around in her cup. “You mentioned it at some point,” she finally murmured, clearing her throat at the end.

“You remembered that?” She remembered that? Even you couldn’t remember mentioning that to her.

“It’s not a big deal, not like it’s hard to remember.” It suddenly got silent between you, the others exchanging looks to one another. 

Eventually, all of them drifted off into their own conversations as you silently nibbled on another one of your fries whilst recounting the last few minutes to yourself. Your phone vibrating in your pocket pulls you from your thoughts. You reach down to grab your phone, but the message you're met with hits you like a ton of bricks as your eyes widen.

Sperm Donor (8:56 pm) I’m coming over this weekend.

“Shit,” you muttered. 

Anika turns to look at you. “What’s wrong?” she asked just before her eyes caught the words you were staring at. A second barely passed before you began to type a reply.

Y/N (8:57 pm) Is that tomorrow?

A moment passed—then another. You began to push down on your thumb’s cuticles to cope with the anticipation that was clawing at your chest.

Sperm Donor (9:01 pm) Yes.

Tomorrow was Saturday. You were initially going to help Tara with one of her assignments and hangout with Henry when you finished, but all your original plans just flew out the window. Now you would be stuck with your father tomorrow, which certainly wasn’t the ideal situation. You were never his favorite.

A foot gently tapped your own from under the table, pulling you from your thoughts. You glanced up to see Tara with her eyebrows knitted. You only cleared your throat while slightly shaking your head, trying to show you were fine. She gives you a once-over, an unreadable expression on her face, before she returns to her conversation with Chad.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to turn your head and look at Anika. “Do you need the apartment this weekend? It’s not a problem if you do,” she said in a reassuring tone.

“It’s alright. I’m just gonna take him to dinner. He doesn’t need to know where I’m living,” you replied in a voice so only Anika could hear you. You turned your head back before you could get a reply, but you saw her nod from the corner of your eye.

From the moment the six of you left the diner, you and Tara returned to your bickering. Chad rubbed his stomach, letting out a groan. “Shit. I shouldn’t have drank the milkshake and soda.”

Mindy rolled her eyes at him. “I told you not to drink both.”

You and Tara walked slightly ahead of the group, in your own world with the other as you squabble. 

“Yeah but if—are those ghost socks?” you suddenly asked.

Tara looked down to her ankles for a moment before looking back at you. “Yeah, and?” she said defensively.

You shook your head with a subtle, stupid smile on your face—she would have missed it if she wasn’t already looking at you. “Nothing. You look cute in them. Anyways, back to the point I was making—” Tara didn't hear anything after the word ”cute.”

Why are you acting as if you didn’t just call her cute? You were doing this on purpose, right? You must be, making her feel like this. Surely you knew. Surely you knew about the feelings you were inflicting—which are just stress! This was just another way for you to get inside her head—

“Watch out for dog shit,” you said as you pulled her by the waist, stopping her from stepping on the crap she was about to step on. She still felt the ghost of your grip when your hand fell back to your side. “You okay?”

She turned her head. “Yeah, fine,” she responded before looking back ahead.

“You seem… out of it,” you said.

Tara raised her eyebrow at you.

You hesitated, only for a second, before elaborating, “I just mean—usually you’d have a rebuttal for me by now. You doin’ okay?” You were now fully looking at her. Oh, how Tara despised your concerning eyes.

She looked to the side, no longer able to handle the weight of your eyes. “I said I was fine, didn’t I?” Tara let out an aggravated sigh as she  crossed her arms.

“Okay then…” You gave her a tight lipped look before hanging your head low as awkwardness swirled in your stomach. 

When you all returned to your apartment, you placed your leftovers on the counter. You were about to go to your room to change and bury yourself under your covers, but you’re interrupted by a phone call. You tense up, slowly taking out your phone and taking a peek at the caller id; you let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sight. You go to your room for privacy, leaving Anika and the rest of them in the living room. 

You didn’t realize just how long it’s been since you heard your mom’s voice; you wish it was under better circumstances. She checked in with you before making sure your father told you he was going to be in town—as vague as he was—and she also told you that her and your younger brother, Stephen, would be joining you and your father for dinner. You didn’t have any complaints, the last thing you needed was to be left alone with your father.

After about ten minutes, you stepped out of your room and walked into a living room full of people you completely forgot about. You stopped in your tracks, their heads turned to you for a brief moment. Tara was biting her nails, but dropped them once she saw you, quickly looking towards the television.

“Great. You’re all still here,” you retorted unkindly before sitting down in the loveseat. Your blatant comment earned you a kick to the feet by Anika.

“Be nice,” she mouthed. 

You lifted your legs, resting them on the loveseat’s armrest; you had no idea why you were sitting out here, anyways. Originally, you came out of your room thinking they had already left. You definitely weren’t in the mood for company.

“‘But when are you ever?” both Anika and Henry would remind you.

“Oh, um, Tara. I’m not gonna make it tomorrow,” you said after a few minutes of silence. 

“Why?” 

She sank further in the couch when she heard just how disappointed she sounded.

“Getting dragged off to this dinner thing—but I’ll make it up to you,” you answered. You wore that same stupid expression she could never put her finger on, that small, stupid smile that she was convinced she would miss if she blinked. In this case, it seemed you were using it to be… reassuring. 

You got up from your seat and went to your room, Tara’s eyes never pulled from you. 

Mindy looked between the both of you with raised eyebrows, a smirk playing on her face by the time you were fully out of the room.

“What?” Tara asked, her tone bored. 

“‘I’ll make it up to you…’” Mindy dramatically mocked you, cupping her hands together by her cheek.

“Shut up,” Tara mumbled, sinking even further into her seat and hiding behind a nearby pillow. Mindy would never let her live down the foolish grin she was wearing right now.

—

You haven’t seen your father since you moved to Woodsboro your sophomore year. He didn’t even come to see you after everything with Ghostface, not that you expected any more from him. This was just the type of man he was. 

When you get to the restaurant, your mom and younger brother are the first person you see. She greets you with a kiss to the cheek, and you and your brother settle for a simple nod. Once you’re all settled in your seat, you ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue since you walked in. 

“So, where’s Dad?”

Your mom sighed a sigh you knew all too well. “He’s on his way, there was just a little traffic. Stop worrying, honey. Leave that for the adults.” She looked at you with a gentle smile in an attempt to ease her words.

You exhale through your nose, moving your index finger against the glass cup in front of you. I am an adult, you wanted to say, but this wasn't the place for that. Not now.

“What’s college like?” Stephen asked, pulling you from your train of thought.

You continued to burn holes into the glass in front of you, half zoned out. “Still there,” you said. You could hear your mom clear her throat, causing you to glance at her for a second before glancing back at the glass. “Some of the classes are worth looking forward to, I guess that’s something.”

“Well, that’s good,” your mom spoke up. “You’ve been keeping up with your homework?” 

You nodded, but before she could get another word out, you felt a familiar grip on your shoulder. 

“Sorry I’m late, traffic was a bitch.”

“Dad,” your brother said, far too excited for who it was directed towards.

“Hey, buddy. How was the train?” your father asked while taking the vacant space beside your mom.

“It was okay,” Stephen answered him.

“Y/N.” 

You finally looked over to him. “Dad,” you responded with less enthusiasm than your brother.

 Stephen and your mom shared a look before she spoke up again. “Do you two know what you want?” she asked you and your brother. 

“Yeah,” Stephen said; you only hummed.

Your father cleared his throat behind a closed fist. “Did Stephen tell you yet?” he asked. 

You looked at him, then to your brother. “Tell me what?”

A proud grin crossed your father’s face, chuckling, as he delivered the news with glee. “He's gonna be a cop—just like his old man!”

Your mom silently sighed as you took in his words. “Great,” you said dryly as you went in for a sip of your water.

“I know it is. He’s gonna be great,” he went on while Stepehen nervously chuckled in his seat. 

“It’s not a big deal, Dad. It’s just something I’m thinking about.”

But your father only shook his head, replying, “It’s a calling, bud. You’re going to do amazing.” He was certainly pleased with the thought. You expected no less from tonight, your father always managed to make everything about his work. You were ten when you realized it would always be ”Officer” before “Dad.”

The waitress came with the food, leaving just as the interrogation began. “So…” your father started, “You’ve been staying out of trouble?”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “‘Course I’ve been.” You refused to look up from your plate.

He grunted, rubbing his scruffy chin before picking up his utensils. “Less of the attitude. I’ve got plenty of reasons to ask—or did you forget the shit you put me and your mother through back home? Huh?” 

You rolled your eyes again, slightly shaking your head. “That was forever ago, I don’t do that stuff anymore,” you said.

“Quit rollin’ your eyes—it’s a bad habit. Keep doin’ that and they’ll get stuck like that,” he continued with a familiar edge to his voice. 

The rest of the night continued like that; your father bringing up your track record, getting a rise out of you, and you responding with quips as you picked at your own skin under the table. 

Not much has changed since you were fifteen.

The best news you got all night was that your father would be heading home the same night. Relief washed over at the sound of his words, and as much as you love your mom and brother, you were grateful they had their own ride home. You were far too exhausted to be behind a wheel tonight.

You were not far from your apartment and you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out and saw a message from Anika. 

Nik (10:53 pm) hey, went to carvel today. there’s a chocolate and vanilla swirl waiting for u in the freezer

You were now off to the side, leaning against a shutter, and slightly smiling. You replied to the message, typing a quick thanks, before continuing your walk to your apartment—but then, a hotdog stand caught your attention. The smell was alluring, and you felt your stomach grumble. Damn it. 

It was dinner with your father, how could you get much eating done? Your mouth was too busy arguing rather than chewing and swallowing. You were well aware with how unreliable street food was, but at the moment, you truly didn’t care. You stuck with a simple order; one hotdog with ketchup drizzled on top. You got a water from the store nearby, before sitting on a bench and eating. This was the most you felt at peace all night; sitting on a bench, listening to music with one side in, eating a hot dog and washing it down with a refreshing drink.

But peace could only last so long.

When you got home, you expected Anika to still be out with Mindy, you went to turn on the light, but it was already on. You furrowed your eyebrows and stilled. Anika usually doesn’t forget something like that.

“Anika?” you called out. You began reaching for the bat you had secretly tucked underneath your couch when you first moved in.

“Y/N? Yeah, in here!” It sounded like she was in the bathroom. You reluctantly retract your hand back to your side, and walk to the bathroom.

“Hey. Is something wrong—” You cut yourself off when you see an ill looking Tara hunched over your toilet. Mindy was holding her hair back as she gagged. 

Anika turned to you. “Hey, um, sorry to just drop this on you. I know you probably had a long night, but could you help us with something?”

You briefly glanced at Tara. “Yeah. What do you need?” You could hear the Carpenter’s gagging as Anika spoke.

“Can you keep an eye on her while we get her some supplies from the pharmacy?” 

You nodded, murmuring, “‘Course.”

You swiftly switched places with Mindy, lifting Tara’s hair while pushing a few extra strands from her face. She was clearly drunk, and you couldn’t help but admit how you despised seeing her like this. You didn’t go to a lot of parties, you only ever went if you were dragged to them, but from what you’ve heard, most of her free nights end with her being drunk.

“You’re never gonna lemme forget this. Are you?” she said between gags. You subconsciously move one of your hands to her lower back, rubbing soft circles as your other hand continues to hold her hair.

“You think I like seeing you like this?” you asked, tone genuine. Surely she knew you didn’t… Right? Seeing her in such an unhealthy state only brought the sense of—well you couldn’t find the right word, but you knew it was anything but a positive feeling.

“Don’t you?” she slurred. Clearly she hasn't puked up all the alcohol just yet. 

You looked at her, really looked at her, and sighed. You took your hand off her lower back to reach into your pocket for a hair tie. Tara missed your touch, it just did more than any painkiller could do for her, but she could never tell you that. She simply scolded herself, pouted, for even thinking such a thing. 

You ran your hands through her hair, brushing it back and tying it into a loose, but secure, ponytail. You push a single loose strand behind her ear which causes your knuckles to brush against her cheek. Tara’s breath hitches as she blushes. 

She hated you.

“No, I don’t,” you finally said. 

She wanted to say something, but before she could, she began dry heaving again. Your hand immediately went to her lower back again, rubbing gentle circles. You could hear the faint sound of your front door opening, and a few moments later, the bathroom door carefully opened. 

“We got everything,” Anika said while carrying a pharmacy bag.

Eventually, you and Anika were able to get Tara onto the couch in one piece while Mindy set everything up in the kitchen. “Oh, before I forget—Tara’s staying the night. Sam will freak if she’s brought home like this,” your roommate whispered while you wiped the remnants of drool and throw up off of Tara’s face.

You thought for a second before speaking. “Okay. She can take my bed.” Tara was now passed out cold, hugging a pillow close to her chest.

“Are you sure?” Anika asked. 

“I’m sure. We might not be on great terms, but my mom raised me right. I’m not leaving her on the couch. Besides, I’m assuming Mindy’s also staying to keep an eye on her, and you two shouldn't have to get stuck cuddling on a couch all night,” you said.

After Anika hesitantly agreed, you set up your bed and returned to the couch to retrieve Tara. She was still fast asleep, and it didn’t seem like she was getting up any time soon. You bent down and scooped her up, lifting her bridal style, and started walking to your room. Tara mumbled something incoherent, and her eyes fluttered open. She appeared confused, looking around then up at you.

“It’s okay. Go to sleep,” you said in a soft voice. Tara felt her cheeks warm at your voice hitting her ears.

You placed her on your bed and pulled the covers of her; you gently lifted her head to put your pillow under it. Her eyes were, once again, shut. You assumed she was asleep, looking at her for a moment, before leaving, but not without leaving the door open a sliver. Just in case something were to happen and she needed you—or anyone.

When Tara woke up, she was instantly shot with a pounding headache. She groaned, rubbing her temples, and after a minute, she looked around. This was not her room. Has she been kidnapped? If so, she is going to get the biggest “I told you so” from Sam. But suddenly, memories of last night came flushing in. All the embarrassing memories. She could remember starting off with a shot… then two… then three… then she woke up to Anika and Mindy helping her up and walking her out of the party. She had complained about not wanting to go back to her own place because Sam would kill her for the state she was in, so they brought her to Anika’s apartment, and Mindy messaged Sam that they were staying the night at her house. After that she felt like throwing up… and she did. A lot. She didn’t stop for a while, and then—oh, this is when the embarrassment comes in. That’s when you came home, and you took over while Anika and Mindy ran out for supplies.

Oh, you were so gentle with her. She nearly let out a sigh whilst looking back on it until catching herself. Snap out of it, she scolded herself, but then another memory appeared; you carried her to your bed and tucked her in… 

No. Mindy was wrong, and Tara still despised you. You were still the same asshole from high school who always got on her nerves.

She heard two soft knocks on the door. She looked up and saw you carrying a place of scrambled eggs. You stayed at bay—the door frame—as you awkwardly stood. “I wasn’t sure if you were awake,” you murmured. You walked over and placed the plate beside the water and aspirin you left her. “Anika made some scrambled eggs, and eggs are good for hangovers, so…” You shifted back and forth on your feet, arms behind your back with one hand gripping the other’s wrist. “I’m gonna go.” With that, you left the room, not waiting for a response from Tara. 

Tara finally leaves your bedroom after five minutes, immediately greeted by Mindy who was eating breakfast with Anika at the kitchen counter. “There she is!” Mindy smiled at her before putting a grape in her mouth.

“So loud,” Tara groaned, putting a hand to her head.

She lifted herself onto the stool beside them and put her head down, only lifting it slightly to look at her surroundings. She noticed a certain nuisance wasn’t there to bother her. 

“Where’s—” she began to ask, but Mindy seemed to have read her mind.

“Your lover girl had a morning shift,” Mindy said.

Tara didn’t have the energy to make a retort. She only said, “She’s not my lover girl,” before settling her head back down with heavy eyelids.

“What time is Sam expecting us?” Anika asked.

“Eleven, so we should probably get ready soon,” Mindy answered as she got up from her seat.

After a few minutes, Tara went back to your bedroom to gather her belongings. She suddenly realized she was wearing something unfamiliar—it was a hoodie. She looked down to see a black hoodie that went down to her thighs. When she tilted and turned her head, she could see a red and blue outline of Spider-Man in the middle. She could recall seeing you wearing this around before, both on campus and in high school. It certainly carried your scent. She could never admit she actually appreciated your gesture, but she didn’t mind it; the t-shirt you put it over wasn’t doing much to keep her warm.

It would hurt to keep the hoodie, right?

She looked over to the scrambled eggs you had brought her. She then sat down at the edge of the bed, swinging her feet, as she thought to herself. If I don't eat breakfast now, it’ll probably be hours before I eat. Anika went through the trouble, after all. She ate a few bites over your nightstand before taking an aspirin with the water that was left right beside it. 

When she got home, she greeted Sam as shortly as she could before collapsing on her bed, replaying last night over and over again. How was she supposed to face you in class the next day?

—

“Hey. You look like you got run over by a truck,” you said to Tara as she sat down.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, do I?” she rhetorically asked, making a face at you as she took out her laptop.

Throughout class, her mind was constantly trailing back to your gentleness that night. Anika simply told you to watch her, she didn’t tell you to wipe the drool and throw up off of her face, or put her hair in a ponytail, or softly rub her back as she gagged and puked. The fact that you had somehow found your way into her head was really pissing Tara off. So pissed, in fact, that instead of going about her usual routine of bantering with you, she chose to ignore you.

You weren’t sure why Tara was ignoring you. Obviously something seemed off with her, but you had no idea what. Was she mad at you? She didn’t appear her typical mad—no, this was different. She's never taken her aggression out by ignoring. She always went the opposite route, using colorful words, but never did she use silence.

You must have done something terrible. But what?

As you walked to your next class, you thought back to yourself, retracing your steps to see what it is you could have done. You hadn’t done anything you haven’t done before, there wasn’t anything out of the norm. By the time you reached your apartment later that day, you were still trying to figure out what you could have done to upset Tara.

You immediately dropped to the couch, sitting with your head leaning back, as you held a pensive look. Anika walked out of her room just in time to notice your distressed demeanor. Before she said anything, she walked into the kitchen and returned with your chocolate and vanilla swirl, handing it to you. 

“Thanks,” you said.

“Wanna talk about what’s got you like this?” she asked, moving to sit in the love seat.

You slowly moved the spoon around in your ice cream. “I just… I don’t know what I did, but T—uh, t- this person is giving me the silent treatment. I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to come up with something, a reason why they’re ignoring me, but nothing’s been coming to me.”

“Well, you can be kind of an asshole sometimes. Seems like you’ve thought pretty hard on this; you care a lot for this person?” 

Her question catches you off guard, making her laugh. No way she’d ask this if she knew I was talking about Tara.

“Goodness, no. She’s just an—an acquaintance? If you can even call her that,” you said.

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

“‘Cause I am.”

“Then why do you care so much if she’s ignoring you?”

“I—okay. I could easily move past this whole thing if I wanted to,” you defensively argued.

“Then move past it,” she challenged.

“I will.”

“You’re gonna lose sleep over this,” she confidently said, walking away to her room. You huffed as you ate your ice cream, bitterly thinking to yourself, I won’t lose sleep over Tara freakin’ Carpenter.

Later that night you were sprawled on your bed… and thinking about Tara freakin’ Carpenter.

-----------

A/N: wonder what's gonna happen next 🤔

EDIT A/N: One of my favorite chapters of this series, so far

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye

[boxofbonesfic]

I can't stop thinking of possessive fire fighter Thor 😌🥴

welp, nonnie, now I can’t either. maybe you weren’t thinking quite this dark, but… 😅

Title: Everloving

Pairing: Dark!Thor x Reader

Summary: A one night stand has worse consequences than you ever could have imagined.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Arson, Noncon, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied Basement-Wife, Stalking, Breeding, Darkfic, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Minors DNI!

[divider by @firefly-graphics]

You stare at the ceiling over his shoulder as you catch your breath, your fingernails still dug hard into the muscles rippling beneath his skin. You’re still spiraling back down into yourself when he pulls back, leaning up on his elbows to grin dopily at you. His blond hair falls handsomely across his face, and the corners of his bright blue eyes are crinkled with his smile. 

 “See, Peach?” Thor says with a wink, his breath still a little short. “Told you I would take you to Valhalla.” 

 You raise a hand to your head, fingers curling in your hair as you laugh breathlessly. It’s a corny joke—and it was even cornier when he’d fed you the pick-up line in the bar, complete with his sultry little every girl needs a firefighter, Peach. It had been so corny you’d been left wondering if it was specifically engineered to get you to laugh yourself into his bed, but the earnest look on his face makes you second-guess your two minute drunk assessment. The firefighter’s uniform he’d told you about is hung up on the back of the door, too, lending credence to his honesty. 

 “Why is that funnier the second time?” You say, and he laughs. He eases up off of you, and your cheeks heat as you feel him slip out of your puffy, still throbbing cunt. You sit up, pulling his blanket up over your bare chest self-consciously. Thor, it seems, is just as glorious in nudity as he is clothed, back muscles rippling as he turns to the closet, and pulls out a hand towel to clean himself off. You hear a tinny sounding thud as he tosses the condom into the trash-can next to his desk. He offers you a towel and you take one, hurriedly swiping between your own thighs.

 “Do you want to shower?” He asks over his shoulder. “My roommate’s won’t be back for a few hours, so if you wanted to shower and crash—”

 “That’s okay,” You say quickly, snatching your shirt off of the back of his desk chair, using his blanket as a somewhat unconventional toga while you shimmy into it. “I should get going, it’s pretty late.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you tug up your jeans. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” 

 “No, it’s totally fine, they won’t mind. And maybe tomorrow we could get breakfast—”

 “I don’t think so,” you say stiffly. “I’ve got work in the morning.” 

 “Right, right,” he laughs a little awkwardly, stepping back into his briefs. The elastic snaps as he pulls them back up around his waist. “Well, maybe we could go out another time?” 

 You answer him with a shake of your head. “Sorry, I just, um….” You blow out a breath, rocking back and forth on your heels nervously. “I’m not like… looking for a relationship. Right now.” You smile apologetically. “I just, you know. Just got out of one, and it was a whole thing, and I just… I’m not ready, right now for another commitment like that.” His face falls, the boyish grin on his face disappearing as he regards you. 

 “Oh.” 

 “I’m sorry,” you say again, feeling the tension thick in the air between you. “I um. I had fun.”

 “Yeah. Me too.” A look you can’t read crosses his face, and he lifts his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He doesn’t say anything else as you shrug back into your jacket and flee his room, navigating back down the dark hallway toward the door. Your sneakers are in a messy heap by the front door where you left them, and you step into them quickly, eager to be out of his apartment. 

 You pull up your rideshare app as you walk down the block, trying to put a little distance between yourself and Thor before you call. For some reason, you don’t want to do it right outside, not that you think he’d watch you through the window like some creeper—

 Or would he?

 Either way, you call when you’ve reached the bodega on the end of his block, and in five minute Jeffery in a white Hyundai Sonata is pulling up to the curb. 

 Omw home. Your text pops into the roommate groupchat, and it’s not thirty seconds before you see three different speech bubbles appear in the bottom left corner. 

 Heather: girl. it’s one-am!!!!

 Bobbie: girl shut up, she was getting her back blown out by that hot blond lmao

 Heather: twisted into pretzels lolll

 Kirsten: none of you are asking the real questions. how was it???????

 You stifle your laughter with your hands, glancing at the rearview mirror before responding. 

 I will be home in ten minutes. You all will just have to wait. You are, of course, greeted by shrill giggles and questions the moment you walk through the door. You deliver the details as painlessly as you can muster, choosing not to describe the heartbroken look on Thor’s face when you’d tried to let him down as gently as you could. 

 “I mean, you’re totally right. You shouldn’t jump into anything so quick, not after Jimmy.” Bobbie nods sagely at you in approval. 

 “I dunno. He seemed sweet,” Kirsten says dreamily. “Might be a nice guy.” 

 “He was looking for a serious girlfriend, K,” you reply, stretching as you turn toward your room. “And I am not doing serious right now. Bobbie’s right.” 

 After a hot shower, you flop tiredly onto your bed and burrow under the covers. You’re still a little sore from earlier, and you bite your lip, wondering if you’d made a mistake. No harm in letting him shoot his shot, right? That’s what Heather had told you in the bar when he’d first begun sending you drinks, and what had rung in your head when your casual conversation had become boldly flirtatious. 

 There are plenty of other fish in the sea for him. You turn over, pressing your face gratefully into the pillow, confident that by tomorrow morning, Thor wouldn’t even remember your name. 

 ——

 The smell of smoke wakes you, only seconds before Bobbie is hurriedly shaking you awake. 

 “Fire! Fire get up now!” 

 Blearily you sit up, registering the shrill beeps of the fire-alarm just before you choke on thick, hot smoke. It’s filling the room, curling against the ceiling as you sit up, shoving your feet into your slippers. Bobbie’s hand is tight around yours as the two of you race for the door, followed by Heather and Kirsten. The hallway is filled with the other residents, everyone rushing out of the building in a crushing stampede. You’re dizzy, your throat hoarse and your eyes red and watering as you and your roommates watch your lives billow up into the night sky. 

 The street outside is chaos as the firetrucks arrive, men in uniform pushing through the crowd. You’re still staring numbly at your burning apartment building when large hands land on your shoulders. 

 “Peach? Peach you okay?” Thor pushes up his visor, his face filled with worry. 

 “She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, she was the last to get out,” Bobbie says worriedly. You’re forced to agree—every breath feels raw, like you’d swallowed some of the fire yourself. “Is there an ambulance coming?”

 “Yes, there is, but if it’s that bad, I should take her to the hospital now,” He says, snapping his visor back down. Thor’s grip is like iron as he steers you towards the back of one of the small response vehicles, and he hands you an oxygen mask and a little tank. “Breathe through this for a little while, Peach. You’ll feel better in no time.” 

 The street is clogged with vehicles, and Thor steers patiently around them while you sit in the back and try to catch your breath. The smell of the fire, the lights and the sound of sirens fade gradually behind you as you watch the building disappear in the rearview mirror. Eventually, all you can see is the thick column of smoke curling into the still dark sky in the distance as Thor gets onto the highway. His blue eyes meet yours in the mirror. 

 “How are you feeling?” He asks. The oxygen is certainly helping, though you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to be feeling quite this light and giggly. Oxygen deprivation makes you high right? Or is that something else?

 “Like I almost got barbecued,” you say, lowering the mask. A hoarse laugh escapes you. “Sorry. But I did almost die.”

 He smiles at you in the mirror. “It’s alright. A bit of morbid humor is to be expected.” You realize with a glance out of the window that you’re far past the hospital. It isn’t funny, but you giggle. In fact, he’ll be out of the city limits in another few minutes. “Besides, It’s probably the nitrous.” You squint at him. 

 “What?”

 “Nitrous Oxide, Peach. In the canister.” He winks at you, though he’s spinning in the rearview—or is it my head? Your limps are limp and uncooperative as you tug at the mask, gasping for air as your vision tunnels. You get it off, but it isn’t enough, and you gape at the air like a fish as you try to swallow it down into your lungs.

 Your ears are ringing, and black spots dance in your vision as you slump sideways over in the seat. The roof of the car swims in and out of focus as you gulp down lungful after lungful of air. You don’t know how long Thor’s been driving when he pulls over—twenty minutes? Thirty? But your head is still buzzing, your vision unfocused when Thor opens the back door. 

 “I am sorry you got hurt, Peach,” he says, managing to sound disgustingly apologetic as he reaches for you. You kick at him, but he’s so big and so coordinated and you are not, and he presses you to the seat, hovering over you like he had earlier this evening. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

 His admission drags a ragged sob from your throat as your eyes widen. You wail, your struggles renewing themselves until you’re exhausted. Thor remains immoveable above you, like your efforts have done nothing but delay, and perhaps irritate him. 

 “You set the fire.” He doesn’t deny it.

 “Magnesium shavings and alcohol.” He taps the tip of your nose with a finger.  “I like you so much, Peach. I just… I couldn’t watch you go out again with someone else.” He catches both of your wrists in one large hand and pins them to the seat beneath you. 

 “T-Thor,” your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “S-stop, I—”

 He hushes you with a kiss, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You whimper into his mouth and he swallows it hungrily, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and worrying it until it swells. 

 “I just want to start over,” he repeats your words from the bar, hours—a lifetime—ago back to you, dark sincerity dripping from every word. “Pick up and start over—”

 “Shut up!” You cry, tears welling in your frightened eyes. “You don’t know me!”

 “Maybe not yet,” he hums, dragging his lips down the salty tracks over the curve of your cheek. “But we have time.” The fingers of his free hand slip beneath the loose elastic waistband of your pajama pants to cup your bare pussy. He heaves a pleased sigh. “No panties? Peach you are truly a treasure.” He parts your lips with sure, unhurried motions, his fingers sliding through your folds. 

 You try to close your thighs around his hand, but he doesn’t let you, wedging himself between your thighs. 

 “P-please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—” You babble apologies that he doesn’t seem to hear, his touches ironically soft and unhurried. “Thor please—!” His lips crush against yours again, turning the words into a frightened squeak. 

 “What’s the matter, Peach?” He asks, trailing down your jaw and over your pulse point. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” Thor’s pleased little hum makes shame curl in your belly. You’re wet. You know you are, and you hate yourself for it as he draws his fingers back and forth, spreading the slick through your folds with practiced ease. “See? She even remembers me.”

 Thor circles your entrance with gentle strokes, and you huff through your teeth to hide the whine that threatens to tumble from your lips. You hate him, his soft persistent kisses, the drag of his fingers through your traitorously aching folds. You hate it because it feels good, because he’s making it feel good, because it feels like you’re shattering into a thousand fractured shards in his capable hands, and you get the feeling that he wants you to. 

 Can’t fix what isn’t broken.

 You whimper at the burning stretch of his fingers, the heel of his palm grinding deliciously against your clit. When you clench your teeth against the pleasure, Thor clucks his tongue at you. 

 “Let it feel good, Peach,” he coos, scissoring his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches loudly in your throat, and Thor moans deeply at the sight, leaning down to suck a bruise onto your collarbone. “You don’t have to be in control anymore. You can let go.” He mumbles the words darkly against your skin as you feel his hips shift up. 

“You can just let me—” Thor reaches between your bodies, tugging the band of his briefs down over the thick shaft of his cock. “Do the thinking for both of us.” He groans as it pops out from under the elastic, slapping against the puffy, slick lips of your pussy. 

 Thor’s lips part in a soft “o” as he slides his cock back and forth, eyes rolling up to stare sightlessly through the roof of the car. His fingers dig into the fleshy curve of your hip, the other forcing your wrists down harder into the seat cushion. Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes and running down into your hair, acceptance settling like lead as you realize this is happening. 

 The head of his cock throbs hard as he pushes it against your swollen clit. You push down on the pleasure as hard as you can, trying not to let it show on your face. It’s useless though, as your thighs begin to tremble around his hips from the steady pressure at your clit. You writhe, trying in vain to buck him off. You only succeed in pushing yourself against him, pleasure rolling in sticky warm waves up your spine. 

 “N-no, ah—” You’re cumming then, your words are lost in the choked sob that tightens your throat. Cheeks flush with heat, you turn tear-filled eyes to Thor’s. He looks at you with an manic kind of joy, his fever bright eyes drinking in every detail. Your pussy is still throbbing, clenching tightly around nothing when Thor begins to line the head of his cock up with your cunt. He sinks in slowly, cursing as you squeeze down around him. 

 “Better with no condom, isn’t it Peach?” He says hoarsely, chuckling. “Not that that one made much of a difference,” Thor sinks in to the base, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against you as he revels in the feel of you. “Poked it full of holes, just in case.” 

 He doesn’t give you time to mull over the words before he’s sliding out, sparks shooting in front of your open eyes as his cock drags along your walls. Thor groans as he fills you again, loosing your wrists so that he can anchor you to him with both hands. There is room in your foggy head for shame, but it does nothing to stop the sticky sweet rush of pleasure as he fucks into you with abandon, the truck rocking hard with his efforts. 

 What’s worse is that you can hear it, the lewd wet noise it makes as he slides into your welcoming cunt. You whine low in your throat as he pinches your clit between two fingers, rolling it back and forth until you’re twitching underneath him. Thor laughs. 

 “See?” He asks breathlessly. “And you say I don’t know you.” He leans down to kiss you again, swallowing the pathetic little cry you let out as he drags you over the edge. You hate that he’s all around you, in you, everywhere, filling you up until you’re overflowing. 

 When you cum, again it’s with Thor’s tongue in your mouth, and his throbbing cock in your cunt. He moans against your lips as his hips still, and dimly, you’re aware of slow, sticky heat settling in your core. He doesn’t move, his body pinning you to the seat. When he finally leans away, you try your best to pull your t-shirt back down over your bare breasts, staring stubbornly at the back of the front seat. 

 “Oh, Peach, don’t be mad at me,” he says, tucking his fingers beneath your chin. He pulls until it hurts, and you’re forced to look at him. You hate that he’s still inside of you, his cum leaking out to pool on the seat underneath your ass. He reaches down beneath the seat for something, but you can’t quite see it. “We’re going to be so good together.” 

 He produces the nitrous tank and mask, and your eyes widen with fear as you begin to struggle. It isn’t hard for him to push it against your face, though, and you hear a squeak as he twists open the valve. The gas rushes into the mask with a hiss, and it only takes a few panicked breaths before your vision begins to dim.

 “You’ll see.” 

 end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ��️

[sleepynoons]

shoko x f!reader, sfw

cw: mentioned gojo x geto, smoking

notes: first time writing for a female character! though it's an ambiguous relationship... (the crowd boos) in my defense, i love tragic yuri. potentially a projection of my own struggles + confusion with my queer identity. i guess we'll never know! :D anyway, gege akutami, i can confidently say, you FUMBLED THE FUCKING BAG with ieiri shoko. give my hot doctor queen some screentime - you have 5 chapters to do something. Do something about it.

SHOKO WATCHES as ash falls from the butt of her cigarette, which she taps with quick raps of her pointer finger. she’s surprised she’s remembered to put it out at all. you made a big fuss about it when you came home later than she had one evening and caught her smoking indoors. she rolls her eyes and takes one last puff, thinking back to when the two of you had just become roommates.

you used to be the primary doctor over at kyoto jujutsu high but had quit after a short two-year run because you were overworked and exhausted. the two of you met up for drinks right after you quit (you literally called her and utahime up twelve hours after submitting your letter of resignation), and she mentioned briefly that her home was always a mess. you suggested the idea of living together, and she didn’t have a reason to reject your offer. 

anyway, you’ve become a bigger pain in the ass than she had anticipated. yes, you’re a big help when it comes to chores, but you’re also so insistent when it comes to her lifestyle. not that she bothers to listen to you, but you frequently nag about her smoking, drinking, lack of eating, so on and so forth. 

in fact, you’ve taken it upon yourself to take care of her, as if she’s a dying house plant that you’re nurturing back to life. you pack her two bentos every work day, one for lunch and the other for dinner, the meals never identical. you replenished her bare wardrobe with new turtlenecks and work pants because she’s “not steve jobs,” and it’s not like she has an excuse to wear the same thing every day now that you’re doing the laundry and ironing. this is all to say that you’re too involved, too knowledgeable about her mode of operations, for her liking. 

throwing the cigarette onto the floor, she extinguishes it with her foot and heads into your shared apartment. 

not even two steps into the foyer, she hears you call from the couch, “the bath’s ready!”

shoko shrugs her shoulder bag onto the floor next to her heels and pads over to you. “why are you still up?” she asks.

you peel your eyes away from your phone to smile at her. “i was waiting for you,” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. 

she heads to the bathroom and says, “go to bed.” you just giggle in response.

in the bathroom, shoko shimmies out of her clothes, brushes her teeth while avoiding her reflection in the mirror, and grabs a towel. when she sinks into the bath, she realizes you’ve added a few drops of jasmine and ylang ylang to the water to help her decompress. somehow, you’ve even managed to figure out her favorite aromatics.

your relationship is peculiar, to say the least. roommates but more. not lovers, of course.

shoko’s long distanced herself from such relationships. she barely has an interest in making friends, let alone find a lifelong partner. yet, upon some introspection, she finds her own behavior and attitude towards you… odd. you bother her, but she hasn’t put a stop to it like she normally does with others. she’s not tired or bored of long conversations with you. even though she’d like it if you gave her some more space and privacy, she doesn’t prevent you from learning more about her.

it’s not that she’s unguarded; she has deliberately lowered her guard around you.

she sinks deeper into the bath, blowing bubbles in the water as she thinks.

she doesn’t love you. (what does being in love even feel like?)

she does like having you around.

ten more minutes of half-conscious musing later, she gets out of the bath and prepares for bed. when she exits from the bathroom, she finds you still sitting on the couch, doom scrolling and humming an inane tune. but this time, she also smells the familiar scent of smoke and bitterness.

she glances at the living room table and spots a small dish. you’re smoking, she realizes.

“i thought you didn’t approve of smoking indoors,” she says.

you look over your shoulder and chuckle. “i’m trying to see what all the hype is. smoking really isn’t all that, you know, shoko?”

your roommate walks over to sit beside you. “you’ve never smoked before?” she asks.

you shrug. “no, i have, when we were much younger. but i remember choking on my first time, so i never bothered to try again.”

“so what made you try this time?”

“you.” you say it so effortlessly. then, you beam at her before scrolling to another video on your phone.

shoko is unsure how to react, so she just leans her head on your shoulder. does she have that much of an influence on you? probably not. it’s common for people to pick up on mannerisms and habits of those around them.

she recalls her high school days with gojo and geto. those two were undeniably close, and they frequently behaved like one another. when she caught wind of the nature of their relationship, it all seemed to make sense – they looked and acted exactly like a couple should.

she wonders if the two of you are anything like her classmates. do you share the same sense of humor? do you have your own language – your own catchphrases and inside jokes and syntax? do you enjoy being around her? does she know you the way you know her?

does she want to know you?

she’s feeling a slight pinch in her temple. she’s not in a rush to figure things out.

shoko reaches across you to take the cigarette from your grasp, acutely aware that she’s taking a breath from where your lips were just moments ago.

“i want something savory tomorrow,” she says.

you nod your head. “i know.”

of course you already know she hates sweet things. she puts out the cigarette.

[moonrisecoeur]

Nobody wants to talk about this so its down to us babe 😔 but can we think about SUGAR BABY LEON. Because im sick of all this 'sugar daddy this, sugar daddy that' what if we spoil the babygirl 🤨

if i’m so for real with u i’m literally a starbies barista i do not make the money to be a sugar mommy and i like men who give me stuff and buy me whatever i want BUT on the off chance leon ends up with a rich partner…

i also have some darker ideas for this if u want that kinda vibe too!! just let me know !!

no pronouns mentioned, reader is referred to as having a cock but straps count too 💥 , somno and free use mentioned

he does not know what to do with himself. like okay if we’re in a non apocalypse au and leon is just a cop, he’s making okay money, but he’s not living lavishly. and if we’re in the canon universe and leon is like a government agent, i still don’t think they’re paying him much beyond enough to cover basic living essentials. basically he’s getting by fine but not much more than that.

and then he meets someone, you. you have more money than you know what to do with, so what do you decide to do? you spend it all on the pretty boy you met at the coffee shop. you pay for his drinks, his pastries, and then it keeps going until you’re paying for his rent, utilities, you’re buying him new furniture since his is old and you’re taking him out to expensive dinners and wining and dining him, giving him fancy jewelry and designer clothes.

he doesn’t know what to do!! he feels like he has to repay you even if you insist he doesn’t, “leon, sweetheart. the point of me doing all of that was so you wouldn’t be paying it back. those were gifts, baby.”

“i- i know but… this can’t be right i- i can’t just take all of your money!”

“sweetie, you can have all of my money, i don’t care. i want to spend time with you,” you mumble as you press a kiss to his cheek.

he likes people who are just a little bit older, a little more intelligent, a little more confident than him. and you tick all of those boxes. you could have easily just asked him out, and started a normal relationship. he would have fallen for you anyway. but there’s something very down to earth about you thinking the only way you could spend time with him is by throwing your money at him. he doesn’t like the feeling of guilt that hangs on his heart.

but honestly? you’re completely satisfied, he has nothing to worry about. even with the allowance you give him (you have to secretly deposit it into his account otherwise he’ll feel guilty accepting it even if he needs it) you’ll still have more money than you know what to do with.

and also, every date night, you wine and dine him as usual at some fancy restaurant, you come home and fuck his brains out.

i’m talking like, he can’t think about anything but your cock for an extended period of time. you make him cum over and over until his body gives out and he goes unconscious. you take care of him, cleaning him up and cuddling him while you fall asleep, and when he wakes up, it’s morning and there’s breakfast waiting for him in the kitchen of your luxurious apartment.

after a while, you convince him to move in with you! rent is so expensive these days (you say like it even makes a dent in your net worth) and it would be more convenient if he just lived with you. it takes a lot of convincing, but he comes around. he’s a good roommate, he’s tidy and does all the chores (mostly again because he feels like he has to repay you somehow!)

and you buy him cute little gifts and bring them home for him to open after you get off work!! little things that remind you of him or things you remember him mentioning he wanted.

also, since he lives with you 24/7 now, it’s so much more convenient when you want to fuck him senseless. you don’t even have to ask him, just bend him over the kitchen counter while he’s making dinner. or fuck him when you get home from work and he fell asleep on the couch. that’ll wake him up!!

[etoiile]

"BE BRAVE"

starring chigiri hyoma!

synopsis: after being your roommate for a little over half a year, chigiri can say without a doubt that he's never met someone like you. you're sweet, funny, and just a great friend. but what happens when he wants to be more than that?

warning(s): not proofread but im p sure i didnt grammar correctly, mild swearing, gender neutral reader

notes: i want him your honor

"im back.." you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and practically throwing yourself onto the couch.

"well, dont you sound energetic." he joked as he turned off his phone and sat down next to you. "rough day?"

"ugh you cant even begin to imagine." you grumbled. "shit day. start talking. distract me."

"hmm..." he thought. "my day was pretty uneventful. i got let out early and just caught up on some stuff."

"who were you texting earlier? got any tea?" you questioned sleepily with a yawn. gossip sessions with chigiri were your absolute favorite. whenever he texted someone, there was usually some sort of news. plus, he gossiped like a girl and you were here for it. (sorry but chi is just so freaking canonically girlypop)

"nah. i wish, though. just talking to my older sister about some... stuff." he trailed off, racking his brain for a new subject.

"you hungry?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen.

"yeah. will you carry me?" you asked tiredly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you were too tired to move on your own.

chigiri rolled his eyes at you, but still let you climb onto his back regardless.

as he carried you to the kitchen, he couldn't help the way his heart would leap out of his chest every time you left out a sleepy groan or would shift a little in his hold before nuzzling into his back. he couldn't help but imagine being here with you, in this apartment, though not as roommates or even friends, but lovers. he couldn't help how he could never be mad at you, despite what he'd say. he couldn't help how every time you did literally anything, he could feel himself falling deeper in love with you.

"well, think about it this way, chi." his sister had texted. "you've got two choices before you. confess or dont. correct?"

"yeah"

"WRONG. there's only one choice. by doing nothing, youre doing nothing but self torture. you'll always be thinking about how much you want to hold her but cant, and you'll have to watch her go on dates and even get ready for them. obvi, thats no fun. imo, just go for it, honestly. gotta be brave, yk?"

at the time, chigiri said something along the lines of, "maybe i will, maybe i wont. we'll see." before turning off his phone to greet you.

now, as he thinks about his feelings, he's never been more sure. he's never felt this way about anybody else before. its not like his past relationship where it was thrilling and exciting but exhausting. the way he feels with you is different. you feel safe. warm. comforting. you feel like a warm, sunny breeze after a cold rain. you feel like home. you feel like warmth. you feel like love.

he gently set you down at the kitchen counter before heading to the fridge.

"we dont have much food because SOMEBODY forgot to buy groceries." he teased. "we have fruit, eggs, bread, tobiko roe, rice, and instant ramen."

"yeah, yeah. anyways.." you then started batting your lashes at him like a maniac. "would you mind making me some ramen, my dear, sweet chichi?"

chigiri's heart leapt at the use of the word "my." he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he quickly turned around.

"yeah, yeah, as you command." he rolled his eyes (for the 349348th time) and got to work.

"dont forget the eggs!"

"just be brave," his sister had said.

pfft. "just be brave?" give him a break! it just wasn't that simple. he couldn't risk the friendship most beloved to him. he just couldn't!

he watched as the seasoning gently bubbled with the noodles as he gently stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, humming along to a tune he'd heard on your playlist absentmindedly.

"CHIGIRI?!" you suddenly yelped, clearly taken aback.

"what? is something wrong?" he asked calmly but concerned, praying that you weren't hurt as he set down the chopsticks and ran to you.

his cheeks were met by your palms as you squished his face together. "you're humming "cruel summer" by taylor swift! ive done it! youre a swiftie!" you let go as you squealed and leaped for joy, jumping about.

"chigiri's a swiftie! chichi is a swiftie!"

he chuckled as he watched your antics when suddenly, you crashed into him as you jumped.

you looked up from his chest and were met with his gorgeous pink orbs. it stunned you for a moment. they were so captivating, like they were gently chorusing a beautiful melody. you felt yourself sinking into them when suddenly, you realized the position you were in.

there was maybe an inch or two separating your lips from his. flustered, you quickly drew back, though you didnt exactly want to.

"sorry! um, my bad. i was just thinking! about how your eyes? uh... about how taylor swift has... uh... actually, what am i saying I WAS ACTUALLY-" you stammered as you tried to find an excuse for lingering much too long in his arms. staring into his beautiful eyes. on his chest. his muscular, toned, delicious... STOP.

suddenly, chigiri felt something. it wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't anxiety, it was... bravery.

gently gliding over to your flustered and still stammering figure, chigiri took your hands and looked you in the eye, freezing you.

"y/n, youre my one of my best friends." he said, his melodic voice gently wafting through the air. he then gently leaned down to your ear and in a low whisper, said:

"the thing is though, i dont want you like a best friend."

you were left frozen.

"a lyric from "dress." not bad, am i right?" he asked with a sly grin.

as the great taylor swift said, (in "its time to go") when the words of a sister come back in whisper, he realized that his sister was, as much as he hated to admit it, right. all he needed was to be brave.

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 8

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 16.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Thigh grinding/frottage, dirty talk, content is sexy. Gaslighting, panic attack, meltdown, trauma responses, family secrets. Summary: While the night after your date is unexpectedly wonderful, an unexpected visitor ruins a lot more than just your morning. And from there things seem to be getting more complicated before they can get better. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any errors that I might have missed. There is a LOT happening in this chapter. Right from the top there is a lot to digest, and there are some big BIG things happening as the plot ramps up! This chapter, I present to you: the Green Salon 💚

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

Your fingers grip his shoulder the moment his lips meet yours, with sparks igniting under your fingertips and behind your eyes as soon as they fall shut. It feels like the ultimate irony, as one seemingly small kiss from a vampire breathes life into you in a way you can't describe but has you pressing closer in his arms and silently begging for more.

Max kept it light on purpose, knowing that you might push him away after the first press of his lips, but he can’t help the warmth that spreads through his body. The flash of rioting sensations as the loud, hard pound of his heart seems to echo in his chest. A heartbeat. That seeming myth where his dormant muscle springs to life and makes him gasp into your mouth.

The sharp, unexpected reaction from him has you feeling backward and breaking the kiss, searching his face for what went wrong. “Are you—I mean, did you not—?” You ask, brow furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”

Max’s eyes are wide, glazed over and nearly black with surprise and desire mixed together. “It’s true.” He rushes out, almost breathless even though he has no need to draw breath. “The myth, I felt it. Queenie, my heart thumped.” It’s hard to explain how that could feel to a vampire, but it was blissful. Like being reconnected to an old memory.

“I—it beat?” Your eyes flick down to his chest immediately as though you could see it but what you truly want is to feel it.

“It did.” He practically giggles the confirmation, feeling like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Do all soulmate kisses feel this way? “I thought it was bullshit, but it’s true.”

“Do you want to see if it will happen again?” As overjoyed as he is at the sensation, you will admit…maybe that heartbeat that he felt was the one that your heart skipped.

“If it happens again, I can see kissing you every chance I get.” He admits with a small grin.

“Then I hope it happens again.” Because you dearly want to kiss him again, feeling a wave of bliss and relaxation flood your body at the reality of your soulmate being the one to share these moments with you now.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Max asks as he leans in again. Anticipating that thump and at the last second, he grabs your hand and puts it over his heart.

This time you’re the one who gasps, practically jumping out of the bed when you feel the startlingly solid pump of that long-disused muscle in Max’s chest.

He laughs when your lips break apart from his, eyes nearly sparkling with joy. “I never—” he laughs again. “I never thought I would ever feel that again.”

“That’s incredible.” Both of you are staring at each other with wide eyes, shocked to the point of nearly giggling. “That’s absolutely incredible!”

“I don’t know— I can’t believe it was true.” He reaches out and cups your cheek. “You’re amazing.” He gushes. “You literally make my heart pound.”

“That’s not me,” you remind him sheepishly, feeling the praise is far too much for little, lowly you. “That’s just the soulmate connection.”

“It is you.” He insists. “You are my soulmate, so it’s you doing this.”

“It’s both of us.” The last thing you want is for him to get upset for any reason, so you’ll give an inch rather than anyone having to go a mile. Besides, you would do anything to keep that smile on his face. “And it seems like…It happens every time?”

“I think it does.” Max admits, caressing your cheek. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. Could get addicted to kissing you without that perk.”

“Yeah?” It would upset him to hear but you would have understood if that was the only reason he enjoyed kissing you. To hear that it’s not is almost a miracle.

“Yeah.” He brushes his nose against yours and barely brushes his lips against yours. The thud isn’t huge, but he feels his heart jolt slightly. “But I want to make sure you’re addicted too.”

“That really isn’t something you have to worry about.” The second he was pressed against you, you knew that you never wanted to be anywhere else again.

“Why is that?” He asks, deciding to kiss along your jaw to see if it has the same effect.

Whether or not it’s making his heart beat, yours is skittering out of time as his mouth makes its way across your skin. “Because—” You shiver when he presses a kiss over your pulse and swallow a ragged breath. “I already am.”

“Yeah?” He grins against your skin and growls slightly. “So glad to hear that, Queenie.”

“Gods—why is that so sexy?” Overwhelmed by the feeling of him half covering you and drowning in the sensations of desire and pleasure, the question just slips out with no filter at all. Your mind is far too concentrated on mapping the contours of his arms, back, and shoulders to even think about what you’re saying.

“Primal reaction.” He grunts, enjoying the way you are melting against him. “If I scrape my fangs over your pulse, you’ll shiver and your little pussy will clench in reactive fear that your body perceives as pleasure. Tickles that cavewoman instinct to be with the strongest.”

“I guess I’m a cavewoman, then.” You know he would never put you in danger. You’ve talked about it very seriously. He would never drink from you or anything like that without another long discussion and explicit, enthusiastic consent. But…he does have a point. The animalistic side of you knows that he is much stronger and much more capable than any human man.

“Rawr.” He teases playfully, grinning at you.

His playful side is so carefully hidden from the rest of the world that you can’t help the way it makes the smile spread wide on your face when he shows it to just you. As if you were as much a safe haven for him as he is becoming for you. “You’re…” One of your hands drifts along his shoulder, fingers stretching to glide over his jaw, and you giggle softly in the dim light of your room. “You’re amazing. I hope you know that.”

“Long as you think so.” He doesn’t think so, despite his outward personality. “All that matters.” His lips touch every bit of skin you show him. Careful not to go beneath your clothes but he maps every inch.

It feels worshipful, and Max never pushes. He never takes advantage of your clothes shifting or lets his hands wander anywhere salacious. He is the picture of a gentleman as the two of you lay side-by-side tasting and touching every visible inch of each other.

He’s never spent much time making out. Most of the time it progresses on to other things, but he wants to take his time. You trust him and he doesn’t want to betray that.

If you were even the least bit tired before, you certainly aren’t now. Right now you’re aching. Doing everything you can not to writhe beside him as your body clearly wants to take things further but your mind just isn’t ready for the utter vulnerability that is sex. You have been just as careful to keep your hands in respectable place as he has, but your breathing has gone shallow and your heart beat has sped up, setting your entire body on fire.

“It’s okay.” Max croons. “I know what you need. Just let me make you feel good.” He doesn’t do anything more than shift a knee between your legs, pressing it down into the mattress and lets it anchor you to him more. You can grind down on him if you want, or ignore it. It’s up to you as he slowly kisses at your pulse again and again.

The unholy whimper that that draws from you is so much louder than you had anticipated, and you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so distracted by how perfect the pressure now is. His broad, muscled body looms over you like living protective armor and your hands shift when he moves so that one of them slips under his shirt by accident. A breathless apology comes right before your thighs clench down on his leg, and you instinctually shiver again at how good it feels.

“You can touch me, sweetheart.” He promises, growling again at how hot your hand is on his skin. “You can do whatever you want to me, with me. You tell me what you want.” Max has never been this selfless, but there’s something about you that makes him want to protect you - even from himself - while simultaneously giving you everything that you need.

“Want to make you feel good.” Without the pressure of demand for your attention, there is nothing more that you want than to give it freely to someone who cares about you. Who is sweet to you. Who values who you are, not what you can provide to him.

“Feel amazing, so….mission accomplished.” He chuckles against your throat and bites at it playfully, making sure that his fangs aren’t exposed. “Never felt this good before.”

“Can I…?” The question drifts off even though your fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt eagerly.

“You want my shirt off, sweetheart?” He pulls back to look into your eyes. Wanting to see them. “Or do you just want to touch me under it?”

“Can I take it off?” Surprised at your own boldness, you swallow again and try to catch a deep breath. But that’s very hard to do with his knee pressed determinedly against your throbbing pussy.

“Of course you can.” His grin is positively wicked and he eagerly allows you to pull the worn, soft fabric up and over his head. Hovering over you as it drags down his arms, and he hooks it out of your hand and tosses it aside onto the floor to be forgotten.

For a few long seconds it feels like all you can do is stare. He is sculpted like a statue and you can’t imagine how soulmates are assigned but in this moment you’re absolutely certain that there must be some kind of rule about physical attractiveness. Otherwise you can’t possibly fathom how you got a soulmate who is so fucking hot. “Fuck…” Even just one word, breathed out in disbelief, perfectly encapsulates how you feel right now.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He teases you with a wink. “If I give it up too soon, you might not respect me.”

“S’not what I meant,” you grumble, tentatively running one hand down the length of his chest and torso, noting every muscle along the way and the softness that guards them beneath his skin. “Just…can’t believe you’re actually real.”

“I know.” He feels bad for teasing you, shuddering at the way your hand caresses him. “I’m real, Queenie. All yours too.”

“That’s the most unbelievable part.” But the reassurance flips some sort of switch inside you, and you surge up to kiss him again with such ferocity that it drives your core down against his leg and you moan as his tongue licks into your mouth with the open, panting kiss.

When you take charge of the kiss, his heart gallops in his chest. Seemingly knocking against his ribs as he gives it back, his tongue starting to map your mouth while your hands trace the lines of his back.

The overwhelming combination of sensations is going to make you short circuit before long, you can feel it. The angle his thigh is at between yours is pressing the seam of your yoga pants against your clit and probably making it completely obvious how wet you are for him, but you can’t bring yourself to even feel the least bit bad about it. This is exactly what you didn’t know you wanted tonight and you’re never going to forget a second of it.

“It’s so good, sweetheart.” He groans, kissing down your jaw again. “So damn sweet for me. So sweet. Rub that little pussy against my thigh, baby.”

“Gods.” Another moan escapes you, muted as you gulp down air in heavy gasps. “Should‘be known you’d have a filthy mouth.”

“Of course I have a filthy mouth.” He hums. “As long as you like it.”

“It’s—” With a mind of their own, your hips roll downward and make you gasp in pleasure. “It’s brand new to me,” you admit, fingers digging into his side to hold him close. “But I like it.”

“I say anything you don’t like, you just tell me, sweetheart.” He tells you.

“I promise.” For now your entire mind is focused on the blinding pleasure building between your legs and wondering if you should try to reciprocate during or after.

“Thought about how you would taste like.” He confess as his tongue pulls back from your pulse. “But you’re so much sweeter. Making me wonder how you taste everywhere.”

“You—” Feeling like a deer caught in particularly strong headlights when you reel back to look up at him in surprise. “You…like…doing that?”

He smirks, looking up and you with a salacious wink. “Sweetheart, pussy is raw.” He reminds you playfully. “Anytime, I’ll bury my tongue inside you. Especially during that time. Love it.”

“I never even thought of that.” And now you feel like an utter idiot for not having it occur to you right away.

“Why would you think like that?” He asks, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours again and pressing his thigh against your clit harder.

“Can’t think at all right now,” you admit, letting the next moan he rips out of you roll through your body like a tidal wave.

“Good.” He chuckles, the sound filthy. “You’re in good hands. I’ll take care of you.”

As much as you may have doubted plenty of other things in your life, you haven’t had any reason to doubt that, and you tip your head to one side to let him explore as far down your neck as he can. “I’ll return the favor,” you promise him readily, knowing that he’s been fully hard in those sweatpants for ages now.

“Don’t worry about that.” The last thing he wants is for you to feel pressured to reciprocate anything. This is about wanting to touch you, make you feel good. It’s not a tit for tat situation. He nibbles on your collarbone and rolls his leg forward again.

“But—” The rest of your thought get washed away on a gasp and your hands squeeze his sides again as you shiver. If he keeps that up, it really won’t take long at all before you fall apart.

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart.” He urges you, smirking when he can feel your entire body start to tense up. “Cum for me.”

Taking his encouragement as permission, your hips roll as if they have a mind of their own, and moments later you fingernails are digging into his shoulder blades while you desperately try to stifle what would otherwise be a very loud moan. You know your yoga pants are soaked the second you start to cum, and that he’ll be able to feel the sticky heat through his sweatpants as well, but you just can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he can make you feel this good without even using his hands.

Max is throbbing with need. Very aware that his cock has soaked the front of his sweats, but he ignores that. Too focused on the feeling of your entire body stiffening under him and the sound of your pulse pounding like your heart is going to beat out of your chest as you give him the sweetest cry.

“So I can start your heart, and you can stop mine,” you huff, working to get your breath back when the starbursts stop exploded behind your eyes and you can open them again to find him smiling down at you.

“Looks like.” He teases drolly, thoroughly amused by the breathless, blissful expression on your face. Dropping down to one elbow to press his lips to yours in the softest of kisses.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to…?” You can feel him throb heavily against your hip, but you’re going to respect him like he respects you. No means no, if that is what he decides.

“I’m good, I promise.” He nudges his nose against yours too. “This was for you, sweetheart.” It’s not that he doesn’t want you to touch him, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to. “We’ll get there, I know we will.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Stealing a kiss from Max’s lips is just about the sweetest feeling in the world, and your hands graze softly over his back as you nuzzle into his side.

After he had rolled to his side, he had opened his arms for you to curl into him. Loving how easily you do. His arm folds around you and he hums with absolute pleasure as your chest presses to his bare one and he can feel your heartbeat on his body.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” You murmur again, this time at a whisper as you place a kiss over his heart.

“I can’t believe you are here.” He confesses softly, holding you securely against his body. The hour is late and he can feel the exhaustion starting to settle in your bones after the adrenaline starts to wear off. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe while you sleep.”

******

Dreams are frequent and fast that night, though nothing unsettles or worries you. Not even an anxiety dream about Max not being there in the morning, as if even your unsteady subconscious could fathom the thought. There is no knock from Renee like usual, no tray brought up so you can laze through a formal breakfast with your undead housemates. What wakes you instead is the sun, and right afterward the soft brush of Max’s knuckles on your shoulder.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Even though he had not fallen asleep, his voice is still a little raspy from disuse. Watching you slowly start to rise from your slumber is a privilege and he wonders if you realize how gorgeous you are sleep tousled.

“Morning.” A small stretch doesn’t take you from his arms, which is good because that’s exactly where you want to stay. Instead you peak up at him from between your lashes and grin. He obviously hasn’t slept, but that doesn’t keep him from looking every bit as handsome as ever. Instead of saying that, though, you reach up to scratch at the base of his scalp and murmur, “Cutie,” as though it were the highest compliment on earth.

“Yeah?” He nearly purrs as he feels your fingers scratch against his scalp. “I try my best.”

“Did you watch me sleep for long?” There is no way he could have gotten out of bed and gotten back in this same position, so you can only assume that he watched you sleep or read one of the books on your side table.

“All night.” He admits with a grin, cracking one eye open at you. “Although we don’t sleep, we do rest. I feel like I’m the most well rested vampire on the planet.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Stretching again, you smother a yawn and make sure to keep your morning breath away from his keen sense of smell. “How long until you have to leave for work?”

“Decided to take the day off.” He admits with a less than guilty shrug. “I have PTO they’ve been wanting me to take.”

That makes you sit up, eyes widening in surprise. “You took a day off?” A perpetual workaholic, you’ve never see Max go a single day without putting in at least a few hours’ work. Even when it was just reading up on clients in the library at home.

“Should I not have?” He asks with a small frown. He had thought you would enjoy the gesture, but maybe you had plans.

“No, I’m just surprised.” Instinctively, you lean in to smooth the crease out of his forehead with a kiss. “I was going to have brunch with Allison today, but that was the only thing I had planned.”

“Go to brunch.” He insists immediately. “Don’t let me interrupt your plans. I don’t want to do that. I just—” Honestly he doesn’t know why he chose to take today off, but he felt like he should. Like something was compelling him to stay close.

“She was just going to come to the house,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to feel like he made a bad decision by staying home. “For that matter, she’s probably still in Eddie’s room. We didn’t have any grand plans. Just Mrs. Taylor’s amazing cooking.”

“In your little tea house?” He smirks slightly, knowing how much you love that little room. Even though it might be a little chilly today, it would still be lovely. “I can start the fire if you want.” He offers. “Warm it up.”

“Setting a fire for me is very primal provider of you.” A small giggle escapes. You feel so relaxed this morning that you could practically fly. “Trying to scratch that cavewoman instinct again?”

“Trying to make sure my soulmate is nice and warm.” He hums, winking at you. “I like curling into your warmth, sweetheart.”

“Ah, so it’s a purely selfish gesture?” Teasing him this morning is so easy, and you laugh before leaning in again to kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ll be able to hear everything we say even from inside the house, but I will be giggling about last night the whole time.”

“You know…” he leans in and kisses your nose playfully. “I only want to hear good things. But I was thinking about your tea house.”

“What about it?” He knows how much you love spending time out there. And how you have adopted it as your own sort of outdoor sitting room. As soon as Eddie had helped you furnish it to your own taste, it became one of your favourite places.

“What if we have that stove taken out, and a fireplace put in?” He ask seriously, wondering what you think about that. “That way you could have a cozy fire, do witchy things if you wanted. Give it that…vibe.”

“Do you think that could even be done?” Not really knowing much about construction or how home improvements get done, it hadn’t occurred to you to remodel at any point. But the idea of a fireplace in your little hideaway sounds positively witchy and fantastic.

“Absolutely.” He has already run it by Mr. Taylor to be certain, and had been reassured that the modification could actually be done rather easily. “The wall with the stove could be a stone hearth. As big or as small as you could wish.” There’s already a fireplace in your bedroom and he nods towards it. “Something like that, or something from a medieval cottage with a bubbling cauldron.”

“I think medieval cottage with a cauldron is on the same spectrum as goth Disney Princess, isn’t it?” He is so utterly sweet, and so tentative, you burrow into his side again instead of getting up like you were starting to. “You really are wonderful, you know. Even if you don’t believe me yet.”

He doesn’t believe you, because he’s not wonderful. He’s selfish and a prick. “You wouldn’t think so if you had met me before.” He admits quietly. The Max he had been when he was trying to get revenge on Evan would have repulsed you, and he doesn’t even know if he would have cared back then. Eddie’s influence, being here, has changed him more than he had originally believed.

“Then maybe it’s okay that we didn’t meet until now.” The lives that you’ve led in the last ten years have made you into drastically different people than you were in college. You know that. He knows that, too. “Maybe the people we were then would have fallen in love just fine. But the people we are now…” Realizing what you just said, and how easily you said it, your mouth clamps shut out of fear and you sink back down under the mattress without another word or even sound coming out of your mouth. You definitely should not have phrased it like that…

“But the people we are now might have needed a little push?” He asks, completing the statement to what his own thoughts were. “I think you’re right, Queenie.”

“Right.” You were going to say that the people you are now seem to be doing just fine on your own, but he seems to think that it wasn’t as easy as all that, and you’re glad that you hit your big, stupid mouth in time. Don’t rush. No pressure. You remind yourself of the mantra in your head with an internal sigh. “I…um…I should shower.”

“Wait….” He can sense he said something wrong, or maybe you aren’t on the same page. “You don’t think so?” He asks quietly. “I think this has been a little push for us. Pushing us together in this house. He planned it. He had to have.”

“I still don’t really know who he is.” Everyone talks about Max’s sire like he’s some sort of mysterious Old God or something and you don’t know what to make of it. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me. Whatever else is going on, I’m glad we’re getting along and that…that last night was as wonderful as it was.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.” He frowns at the mere thought and his hold on you reflexively tightens on your body. “Never.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, either.” Despite whatever he might think.

“Good.” He will accept that. “Now, do you still want to shower?”

“I do. I mean…I should.” After all, you did fall asleep without cleaning yourself up last night. You’re sure you still smell like sex.

“Orrrrrr.” Max pokes his lower lip out and pouts slightly. “We could pretend it’s still dark outside.”

“Did you have something in mind?” His arms are tight around you and there isn’t necessarily any reason to get up yet. After all, the clock on the mantle only reads nine in the morning.

“Just….enjoying holding you. But you might be hungry.” He realizes. “Are you hungry?”

He looks so sweetly earnest this morning and your stomach isn’t rumbling yet, so you offer him a smile. “I could be persuaded to exist on kisses if you don’t mind letting me up to brush my teeth.”

“Do you want me to brush my teeth too?” He asks with a smirk as you cover your mouth as if the smell would offend him.

“Only if you want to.” As much as you duck out of sight, his smile makes you smile, too. “I know your sense of smell is stronger than mine. It doesn’t bother me at all but I thought it would bother you.”

“What, naaaaaahhhhhh.” He tuts, shaking his head. “That doesn’t bother me either. You don’t have to move a muscle if you don’t want to.”

“So…can I kiss you good morning, then?”

“Anytime you want.” Max promises, crossing an ‘X’ over his heart.

“Even at four in the afternoon?” Somehow you can’t resist teasing him today, even as you’re leaning in to softly press your lips to his.

“If that’s what time you want a good morning kiss.” He chuckles. “But then that means you are worn out from the night before.”

“Very worn out.” And after just what you got up to on your first night, you won’t be surprised at all when that time comes. The polite knock on your bedroom door interrupts what was about to be another giggling kiss, and you pause in confusion before realizing it must just be Renee coming to wake you up. “Come in.”

Mrs. Taylor is the one that opens the door, poking her head in with an annoyed frown on her face. “Ms. Dolly, I hate to interrupt, but there is a person at the door who is insisting to speak with you.”

“A person?” A part of you feels like you ought to spring away from Max’s side the second the door is opened, but you resist. This is both of your home, you’re consenting adults, and you’re soulmates for crying out loud. Besides which, the only clothing that came off last night was Max’s shirt, so you’re still perfectly decent. “Alright, um…I’ll only need a minute to get dressed.”

Max doesn’t like the unhappy look on the housekeeper’s face. “I’ll get dressed too.” He insists before he finally lets go of you. He had been too focused on you to hear any commotion but he was fairly certain she would send away any unexpected visitors, so if this person is insisting, it’s not good.

About to say that he doesn't need to trouble himself, you see the resolved expression on Max's face and nod. "We'll be down in a minute, Mrs. Taylor." You tell the housekeeper instead, figuring that whatever it is, it will be quick. It's probably someone about the masquerade, or asking donations for something. With a big, busy house like this, anybody would be right to assume that you have a bit of money to donate to a good cause. "I will show them to the Green Salon." Mrs. Taylor nods and shuts the door behind her, not liking the situation one bit.

The Green Salon. Max arches a brow, aware that the Green Salon was the most imposing of the day rooms. Meant to intimidate. Whoever this is, isn’t a friend.

"I feel like I should dress up and I don't really know why?" Something about Mrs. Taylor's tone makes you feel like this is a big deal. Or at least not casual.

“Sometimes what you wear is a defense mechanism.” Max understand that completely. That’s what his suits are. “Wear the outfit that makes you feel the most powerful, Queenie.” He urges you. “Live up to that nickname.”

"Go put on your favourite suit, then." If he wants you to play that part, you'll need him by your side for support. "I'll find something that you can be proud to have me stand next to you in."

“I’d be proud to stand beside you in what you’re in right now.” He promises. “Queen Beth wore a bathrobe, and did it royally.” He jokes, winking at you. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

It takes you just a few minutes to throw on a respectable sweater and pair of gray slacks and redo your makeup, and you're putting in your earrings on the way out to the hallway where Max is already standing. Of course he was ready before you, but you're grateful that he decided to wait for you to go down. "You said powerful," you remind him, when he eyes the pair of high heels you've put on. It was a favourite pair of your mother's from way back, and even though your feet are sore from last night, you had heeded his advice thoroughly.

“You look like the lady of the house.” He promises with a smirk as he holds out his arm for you to take. Wanting to escort you down. He had heard someone shuffling, snooping around and opening drawers in the desk there. Not that there is any paperwork to find, but it’s interesting. “Shall we?”

"Let's find out who this visitor is." You can't think of a single person who would come looking for you that Mrs. Taylor wouldn't have announced by name, so you're a bit in the dark about the whole thing as you and Max descend the stairs. Even the lawyer would have gotten a formal announcement. Knowing Mrs. Taylor, she would have come in with his business card on a silver tray.

“It should be interesting.” Max comments as he guides you down the stairs and towards the Green Salon with the confidence of a man who had no worries in the world, although he grips your hand on his arm tightly in reassurance.

“Whoever it is,” you shake your head and squeeze his hand back tightly at the bottom of the stairs as he leads you through the ballroom to the sitting room decorated entirely in green and white. “It can’t possibly be that—” The thought dies on your tongue, though, the moment you turn your head and see who is standing beside the desk just a few feet away. “…Derek?”

Max’s entire body stiffens at the tone of your voice. Assuming that this is your ex. The one that had so badly mistreated you. If he were an animal, his hackles would be raised and his fur standing up. Instantly becoming more predatory when the man’s gaze turns towards you.

“Wh—what are you doing here?” Instinctually keeping close to Max’s side, your shoulders round in that familiar and automatic way of making yourself small that your posture has perfected over the years.

Derek frowns slightly at the well-dressed man that you are clinging to before he pokes his lip out slightly and rushes forward. “Baby, I’ve been so worried.” He huffs. “You just disappeared, didn’t call, I didn’t know where you were.”

“You kicked me out.” Shrinking in on yourself a little more deeply makes your face scrunch in confusion along with it. “You broke up with me and you kicked me out.” Right? Isn’t that what happened? Suddenly your memory is foggy and your palms are sweating with nerves.

“What?” He gives you a look of utter confusion and shakes his head. “No, no baby, I went to the bar with friends, you had been upset about something but when I got home, you were gone.” He tries to keep his voice saccharine sweet.

"I was upset because you called me useless and cursed me out—" Doubting your own memory, you look up at Max desperately and then back at Derek. This house was your sanctuary until two minutes ago, now you feel like you'll never be safe again. "How did you find me?"

His eyes narrow for a moment and he almost calls you stupid but the pretty boy next to you makes him mind his manners. “The tracking app.” He explains. “You didn’t turn it off and I finally remembered the login.” It’s more like he had finally given a shit when the house was a wreck and he didn’t have money for beer, but acting like he had been trying to find you sounds better.

"It took you a month to remember my birthday?" Sure, it's a bad idea to use the same password for everything. You get that. But as stupid as you feel for not disconnecting your phone from every single way he could trace you, you feel less stupid about having just one password for everything.

“I thought you had changed it.” Some of the sweetness falls flat and Max can tell that he’s getting annoyed. Good. “But I’m here now, but—” he looks around the opulent room. “What are you doing here?”

"I live here now." While that should be abundantly obvious, you understand his confusion. It's not as though you ever had an abundance of spare funds before. There were times that you could barely make ends meet. "This is my house."

“Your house?” His brow arches up drastically and he looks around the house again with a more appraising eye.

"Yes. It's my house." The place you shared in Tennessee had been under his name but mostly paid for with your money, but this was different. Everything about this place is legally yours and the people you share it with are kind and caring toward you. "You...managed to track me down but not figure out anything else about where I'd gone?"

“Baby.” Derek doesn’t understand why you aren’t overjoyed to see him. You are always a pathetic little mouse, but you are devoted to him. “I just needed to get to you.” He doesn’t mention that his truck is full of his things, the landlord kicking him out when he blew all his money on booze. “I wasn’t trying to waste time looking up this town.”

"That—that's not—" Shuffling from one foot to another, the pounding of your heart must be deafening to the vampires in the house but to you it's just impeding your ability to swallow as you work to try to remember exactly what happened the night you left. Was the fight really not as bad as you made it out to be? "You broke up with me," you repeat determinedly, like you're trying to convince yourself that your memory isn't lying to you. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

“What are you talking about?” Again he shakes his head, looking wounded at your accusation. “I would never break up with the woman I love.” He tells you, wondering why this suited asshole hasn’t let you go yet. “I was looking at engagement rings.”

A wave of nausea washes over you along with the itching sting of an impending panic attack, and your head begins to shake of its own accord before you look up at Max, imploring him not to believe any of this. " N—no." Barely stammered out, the word is completely foreign and definitely not one you were ever allowed to say to Derek. "You're not—we aren't—" As the panic sets in the fear takes hold, squeezing your heart and making you blurt out your best defense as bluntly as possible. "You're not my soulmate."

For a split second, something dark and ugly crosses the other man’s features and as much as Max would love to see what comes out of his mouth, he doesn’t want you to panic for another second. “Hey pal.” Using his most condescending, office manager voice, Max extends his hand out to Derek. “Max Phillips.” He introduces himself. “You are?”

"Derek Scott." There is nearly a growl in the smaller man's voice, and while he means to shake the pompous suit's hand hard enough to make him flinch, the guy you're clinging to seems to be a brick wall. "What exactly are you doing in my girlfriend's house, pal?" Whoever this guy is, Derek needs him out of the way pronto. He wasn't expecting a roadblock when he found you and he doesn't like having his plans interrupted.

“Girlfriend?” Max scoffs slightly, not letting go of the man’s hand and squeezing just shy of making him wince. “Not the way I see it. Why are you here? Me? I’ve lived here for four years.”

"I'm here for my girl." The false confidence in Derek's voice almost waivers with the tight squeeze of his hand, but he manages to hold his shit together long enough to wrench his hand free and realize just how much bigger than him this fuckin' guy really is. "Or did you not hear the part about engagement rings?" Not that he ever would, but he needs this guy to buy the lie. And you, too, for that matter.

“Oh I heard it.” Max chuckles and looks over at you. “I just don’t believe it. Don’t think she does either.” He comments pithily. “Not that it matters anymore. You kicked her out, she just disappeared, who cares? She’s here now and that’s all that matters.”

"I would never have kicked her out." He lies, layering on the look of devotion as he looks over at you. He did. And frankly, he'd done it more than once. It's just that before this, you always came back. Usually in tears, promising to be better. It suited him just fine to always have someone at his beck and call. Especially since you could pay the bills. "But I still don't know why you are here." The guy said he lives here, but how the fuck does that work if this is your house?

“And you don’t need to know.” Max singsongs, grinning broadly. “It’s like having that Top Secret clearance in the government. If you were meant to know, you would.” Right now, he doesn’t want to divulge your soulmate status until he can talk to you, alone. Find out what this asshole wants. “Queenie—” he comments mildly, looking over at you with a wink. “My offer is still on the table.”

It takes you a second, the confusion that's settled over your mind making it hazy, but when you remember that Max has straight out offered to kill Derek for you, your eyebrows shoot up and you shake your head adamantly. "No. N-no. That's...um...that's not...that's not necessary." You insist, feeling like a terrified animal that's been cornered by a predator. "Would you just...let Eddie and Allison know that someone else is here? Please?" Eddie has probably already heard the commotion, but you know Allison would be mortified to wander downstairs in his bathrobe and run into a stranger.

“Are you sure, doll?” His eyes search yours seriously. He doesn’t want you to be alone with this prick, but he’s also not going to control you. When you give him a hesitant nod, he blows out a sigh for show. “Be right back.” He promises, letting go of your arm and cutting his eyes at Derek before he walks out of sight.

"You haven't talked about getting married in years," you murmur, arms crossed over your chest protectively the moment Max is out of sight. It was something that had been talked about on and off — in an abstract sort of way — at the beginning of your relationship with Derek but not since.

“I know, I’ve been….waiting until I could provide for you.” He lies, stepping closer and feeling more confident now that smarmy suit has left the room. “But I realized I don’t want to wait.”

"But..." He steps closer and you step back, trying to keep distance without being overtly rude or making him mad. Derek getting mad is never a good thing. "You...you were sleeping with that bartender." These are things you swore you knew to be true, but fear has muddled your memory. "What's her— Nikki. You were sleeping with Nikki!"

“No I wasn’t.” Derek shakes his head and sighs. “You always claimed I was cheating but I wasn’t. You let your jealousy cloud everything. I wasn’t cheating, I would never cheat.”

"She was in our house." It was about two weeks before he blew up and threw you out, but you know it happened. "She was in our house and you had lipstick on your mouth and—" Feeling the panic crash over you in another wave, you step back again and remind yourself to breath. "I'm not going back," you tell him with a surprising amount of vehemence. "I live here now."

“It’s a nice house.” Derek nods and looks around again. “Nice and big. Expensive.”

"It belonged to family." Saying it out loud is like a resolution, as if acknowledging it is a promise that you aren't going to leave.

“Funny you didn’t have family before.” The mask slips slightly, his frown deeper than before and he steps towards you again.

"It wasn't someone I knew." One step forward gets one step back, and you almost trip moving backward from the carpeted floor of the green room out to the waxed wooden floor of the ballroom. "She left me the house when she died."

He hums, not believing you, but it doesn’t really matter. Soon enough he will know exactly what was left to you and be able to turn it into cash. “Generous.”

"Yeah." A meek nod follows the whisper of the word and you plant your feet again so you won't slip. "Yeah, it—well—it's good. I needed a new start."

“You don’t need a new start.” Derek huffs. “You’re with me.”

"N-no." The shake in your voice is unmistakable. Maybe no one else in the world would know that tone as specifically as you do, but that's the tone that says you're going to be very sorry, very soon. "I-I'm with Max now."

“That guy?” Derek scoffs and shakes his head. “He’s not with you. There’s no way.”

"Why?" That stings so much more than you would have expected. Maybe because it hits home on the very fears that you've been ruminating over since you found out that Max is your soulmate. "Because he's too good for me? Trust me, I know that."

“Because you’re with me.” Derek reminds you. “He’s not your type, I am. I’m the only one who will ever love you like you need.”

"But—you—" Your chest heaves with the effort of holding in the panic that you have had a month's respite from, and the room seems to spin around you in a way that promises to be very bad news in a just a second's time. "You don't—" Breathe. You have to remember to breathe. You manage to snatch your hand away when he reaches for it. "I don't love you anymore."

Max had informed Eddie within two heartbeats of leaving this room, although he had to begrudgingly allow for the human time to walk upstairs and down. He’s been by the door, listening, and is proud of the way you are holding your own. “Listen-—”the douche bag ex starts to talk, but your soulmate decides this is the perfect time to interrupt. “And that concludes todays visitation.” He announces playfully, but has every intention of tearing this asshole apart if he argues. “We thank you for stopping by, but as you can see, Queenie is an extremely busy woman. Planning masquerades and all.” He sails through the door as if he owns the place, with all the grace and confidence this little slime-ball could never possess. Reaching your side and taking your hand again so Derek couldn’t reach for it. His eyes are flat and hard as they shift towards your abusive ex. “Good bye.”

“Don’t you think she oughta be the one to decide that, pal?” Derek’s temper is boiling just below the surface and he has never taken well to rejection. Not ever in his life. Which is why your sudden ability to grow a spine is so fucking disturbing. “This isn’t your house. It belongs to my girl.” He still doesn’t understand why the suited prick even lives here, but he’ll do some digging and find out. Drawing a shaky breath, Max’s hand in yours is grounding and bolstering all at once. “You should go.” You manage after another second, practically shaking apart on the spot from the anxiety of saying no to Derek in any way.

“You heard her, buddy.” The shallow grin that had been on Max’s face drops and for a split second he considers changing his features, really scaring the dogshit out of this dickhead. He doesn’t, out of respect for you. He squeezes your hand to reassure you that nothing will happen to you. “Have a nice day, life, whatever.”

“Baby.” He takes one advanced step, realizing that as long as your guard dog is here, you’re harder to break. What he needs to do is get you alone. “Let me take you out tonight, at least?” He’ll have to figure a couple of things out before then, but he’s been in worse spots before. “I don’t think so.” Shaking your head slightly while you cling to Max’s hand, your eyes hit the floor rather than Derek’s face. None of this is how you wanted to start your day, and you feel like you might crumble if you don’t have your soulmate’s sturdy frame to hold on to.

“It’s time for you to leave.” Max practically snarls it, pissed that this jerk off isn’t getting the hint. You say that he shouldn’t destroy this prick, but Max is about to do it for himself.

“I’ll be back.” Derek announces with vehemence, and you can see his anger tinging the surface as his eyes narrow down on you like they’ve done so many times before.

Max subtly steps in front of you, letting go of your hand. “Let me show you the door.” It’s not a suggestion. “So you don’t get lost.”

The front door is maybe fifteen feet away at most but you still watch Max walk Derek straight to it and push it open to let the smaller man out. They seem to stare challengingly at each other for just a minute before Derek looks past him and finds you staring, at which point he blows you a kiss — something he hasn’t done in years — and steps out into the morning sun. As soon as the door shuts behind him, your legs give out, leaving you in a crumpled pile of gasping sobs on the ballroom floor.

“Fuck.” In a flash, Max is next to you. Not pulling you up, but down on the floor with you and pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, it’s alright sweetheart.” He murmurs softly. “Let it out,” he rubs your back and pats it gently like he would comfort an infant as they sobbed. He doesn’t want to make you stop, just wants you to know he’s there for you.

“I—I—forgot—” Stuttered out in stifled hiccups, you cling to Max tightly without fear of hurting him and try very hard not to get makeup or tears on his suit. “How could I be so stupid?”

“You are not stupid.” He grunts, making sure you know he doesn’t believe that shit. He holds you tight and wishes he knew how to make it better.

“I’d have to be, to forget about Find My Phone,” you gasp, the tears flowing thick and insistent as you try to hiccup breaths in between. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Max tries not to frown as he takes your face in his hands. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing.” He doesn’t want to compel you to calm down, but he will if you continue to blame yourself and nearly make yourself sick.

“He’s dangerous.” Is all you can think to say, the insistent and nagging feeling of fear brewing in your gut.

For a second, Max is speechless. Shocked quiet by your words until he starts to chuckle. “Sweetheart, I’m more dangerous than he could ever imagine being.” He promises, tilting your head up and making you meet his eyes. “Do you want me to show you? I don’t look this pretty all the time. There’s- there’s another side to me.”

“I’ve seen your teeth,” you remind him quietly, not quite understanding and trying to get your breathing back to normal from nearly hyperventilating a moment ago.

“It’s not just teeth, sweetheart.” Max is glad he didn’t start calling you ‘baby’ since that was what Derek called you. “You can call it my monster face. You want to see it? See the real me?”

“I have seen the real you.” No matter what else there may be to him, you refuse to believe that the man he has been with you is t the real him — the person he wants to be at his core. “But show me the other side, too.” Puffing out a breath, you barely manage to shift against him. “It’s only fair. Since you’ve seen me falling apart.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be worried about Derek.” He grumbles. “Not when your soulmate - who will never hurt you -“ he add, “looks like this.”

Any other time you might have been startled. You might have reeled back of stared or even been frightened of that way Max’s face transforms. Instead, you almost smile. The twitch at the corners of your mouth, at least are unmistakable. It isn’t fear you feel, but safety. “My guard dog,” you decide after Moment, reaching up to touch his transformed brow.

He growls in surprise at your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he leans into your touch like a guard dog would. He would fight the monsters for you, protect you, and then beg for love and attention from you. His fangs are on display when he smiles, looking like one of the vampires from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It was amazing how they got them right. Rumor was one of the exec producers was a vamp himself. “Woof.” He teases.

The tease startles a small laugh out of you, which is steadily followed by a few last tears as your fingers trace the peaks and valleys of his cheek. “You’re not a monster,” you murmur, the recurring thought from his head bleeding into yours, but you refuse to yield to it. “He is.”

“He might be a monster, but me? I’m the thing nightmares are made of.” Max’s voice is deeper in this form, less human than before. “And I will use ever power I have to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

“I know you will.” Despite hiccups in the beginning — which there definitely were, you won’t deny that — that is something you believe right down to your core. Max will never intentionally hurt you. Not now. Not knowing who you are to him. Deflating once more, as though the last of the panic is being pushed out of you like a bellows, you lean in and press your forehead to his. “I don’t know what comes over me,” you admit, quiet enough for only him to hear. “It’s like a can’t think when he’s around. I can’t trust my own memory, or my mind at all.”

“Because the motherfucker is gaslighting you.” Max snorts, shifting back to his ‘normal’ form. “His heart speeds up half a beat when he lies. And it skips the every fifth beat while you’re melting down.”

“You should be a living lie detector.” Thinking about it for half a second after it comes out of your mouth, you huff. “An undead lie detector, technically. I guess.”

He chuckles. “I guess I should be. I’ll add it to my resume.”

“What a way to start the day.” It’s a miserable ruination of a perfectly good morning, and you sigh in Max’s arms.

“It just means the rest of our day will be on the upswing.” He murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your hair.

“We…” Looking around, you huff and look up, but your eyes only get as far as his chin. You’re too ashamed that he’s seen the power Derek apparently still holds over you to look him in the eyes like this. “We should get off the floor…”

“Only if you’re ready.” Max isn’t going to judge you for the way you reacted, he knows that the hold people have over someone is strong at times.

“You can’t be comfortable.” The automatic way you think of everyone else first is drilled into you so much that you don’t even realize you’re doing it most of the time. “And I promised Allison brunch. It wouldn’t be fair to have Mrs. Taylor do all that work and then not eat anything.”

“You can take a moment.” Max tuts softly, not wanting you to think that he’s admonishing you. He’s not. “I’m not going to die of a cramp. Brunch hours are still in full swing, and Mrs. Taylor thrives on making food for humans.”

“This is my moment. Right here.” Right here with him. This is the only way you could ever remotely be okay. “Normally encounters with that man leave me catatonic or privately inconsolable. The fact that I can even speak coherently right now is because of you.”

“Then I’m happy that I was here.” If he had been at work and this had happened, he would have been pissed.

"Pretty glad you decided to stay home," you admit, echoing his thoughts without knowing it.

“I am too, Queenie.” He hums softly and then gives a small chuckle. “Although you should never worry. Mrs. Taylor would have torn his head off if he had touched you. Everyone here really. We are protective of our human.”

"Then I feel very, very safe." Ironic, considering how many humans would fear for their lives in a house full of vampires, but you sit up in the middle of the ballroom floor and exhale slowly. "I just...I wonder how long he'll stay around. Or try to stay around, I guess."

He hums, knowing that the man had already sniffed out money. He wasn’t going away anytime soon. “I’m sure that he will move on soon, but for now, Eddie or I can run around town with you and Allison.”

"I can always take Mr. Taylor with me, too. If I need to." The older man looked far younger than his years, obviously, and having the strength of a vampire nearby could only be helpful in that department. "I'd hate to ask any of you to do it, though. To basically be my bodyguards until he's gone."

“You aren’t asking.” Max points out with a small smirk, dropping his hand to your and rubbing the back of it gently. “I know it might seem confining, like I’m punishing you, but I just want you to be safe.”

"Trust me, I know what being punished feels like." Shaking your head won't banish those particular memories, so you shift to your knees and start to stand. Slowly, of course. Since you've been crying and all. "This is the farthest thing from it."

Max frowns fiercely and opens his mouth to demand to know what you mean by that, but he doesn’t speak. He won’t push you to talk about things that you might not be coping with well. He helps you up and bites his lip as he brushes off your outfit, taking extra time on your ass.

"I can feel that, ya know." Teasing is good. It lightens the mood and it helps to break the tension of the last half hour.

“I would hope so.” He snickers, patting it once before dropping his hand.

“I should go up and apologize to Eddie and Allison.” You know that Eddie heard every word, and that Max was probably listening sharply every second he was out of the room. The only thing you want at this point is to alleviate any awkwardness that Derek’s unwelcome visit may have caused.

“You didn’t invite him here, sweetheart.” He doesn’t like your need to apologize for things beyond your control. “But I’ll go with you.”

“We’re right here.” Allison and Eddie stand at the bottom of the staircase, having waited until the sounds of argument and crying had stopped to come down from his room. “Honey.” With both arms outstretched, Allison hurries across the great hall to wrap you up in a hug. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Max steps back, motioning Eddie off to the side while Allison comforts you. Pleased that Eddie’s witchy girlfriend was such a good friend to you. He knows the other vampire heard him but he wants to put Eddie’s unique skills to use. “I want you to find out where this motherfucker is staying.” Eddie’s damn handy with a computer. “And why he decided to come to Newport. She won’t let me kill him…yet.”

“On it.” Eddie promises him, glancing past Max to make sure you’re okay with Allison. “He isn’t gonna like her being threatened when he finds out.” There is no doubt in the older vampire’s mind that their sire will find out everything that’s happened. It’s only a matter of when.

“No he won’t, but I am more concerned with her right now.” Max confesses quietly. “She almost instantly went back to the shy mouse she was when she arrived. I don’t like it, I don’t like him being here, threatening her peace.”

“We’ll get him out of town as fast as he came.” Eddie promises, his head bowed and expression uncharacteristically serious. He doesn’t take it lightly when his family is threatened — and you’re family. More than just being related to Cookie, you’re Max’s soulmate. You are a part of his clan and that is that.

“Thanks.” He might give Eddie a bunch of shit, a lot of the time, but that’s just playing around with him. He cares about the other vampire tremendously and he knows that Eddie has a tender spot for you. “I’m going to try to work from home as much as possible.”

“We can get you a positive Covid test,” Eddie offers instantly, knowing that though Mr. Taylor looks like a fairly run of the mill, ordinary man, his resources run deep. He can get any kind of blood or DNA they need - even infected. Some vampires like it. They think it tastes spicy. “Two weeks off, per company rules. If I remember your griping correctly.”

Max smirks, lifting a brow at Eddie. “Been thinking about using that at school, haven’t you?”

“It’s just the dumbass math credits.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “I’m forty fucking years old and I’ve never used calculus once.”

“And you never will.” Max admits with a roll of his eyes. “My favorite thing was when the math teachers told me I would never just carry a calculator in my pocket. Jokes on them.”

The smirk and half-snort it earns him from Eddie in agreement makes both men laugh, and Eddie nods after a moment. “We’re gonna take care of her,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

“I know, I just-“ he shrugs helplessly. “I feel vulnerable now.”

“That’s fair.” There’s nothing that Eddie can particularly say to change that. Not in this moment anyway, but he nods. “We should get him here,” he concedes. “We can keep her safe, but that would guarantee the rat bastard never sees the light of day again.”

"Have you figured out how to call him?" Max asks in amusement. He had never quite learned what peaked his interests or even how he had come to be restored after being destroyed by Evan and his little girlfriend.

“Mrs. Taylor knows.” Of that, Eddie is certain. “I’m not above calling in the big guns, and I know she can do it.”

"He might tell us to take this problem on ourselves and solve it." He doubts that, but oftentimes his sire could be difficult just because he could be.

“Not on something as important as your soulmate.” There is nothing their sire takes more seriously than protecting a soulmate.

"If this guy becomes a problem, I will ask Mrs. Taylor to call him." Because of his promise, he doesn't tell Eddie that he is already here. He just pretends that he has no clue where their shared sire is.

“Good.” For now Eddie just nods, knowing that Max has to be the one to take the reins on this. “For now, I’m gonna sort out that Covid test to buy you some time off and you should go be with her. Just…I can’t imagine the kind of hell she’s in.”

"She's more concerned with being a problem than having a problem because of this douche bag." Max shakes his head. "I just wish she knew that she doesn't have to pretend with us."

“She hasn’t been away from him that long.” If there’s one thing Eddie knows, it’s how twisted relationships can get. He may not have been in a situation quite as bad as yours, but he does understand it. “She’s not pretending, this is just how she reacts to things now. It’s conditioning. And over time she’ll be able to unlearn it as she feels safer and more supported with us. But that takes a lot of time.”

“It’s a good think we’ve got plenty of it.” Max frowns as he imagines the hell you must have lived with and guilt settles over his shoulders. “This is all my fault.”

“How?” Eddie frowns, glancing passed Max to see Allison leading you into the dining room with a soothing hand on your back. When he refocuses on Max he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How is that piece of shit possibly your fault?”

“Because when I got kicked out of college, that night I forgot I had a blind date set up.” Max waits for a second to see if it clicks with Eddie but the other vampire just frowns again in confusion. “I was supposed to go on a date with Dolly. And instead of meeting her soulmate, she met fuckface.”

“Oh fuck.” Teasing ceases immediately when he realizes that it’s not just blame Max has put on his own shoulders, it’s guilt. “You couldn’t have known, man. Not in a million years.”

“No? I should have.” Max had been kind of a douche, but he had respected people. Hadn’t wasted their time. He had failed you. “I should have remembered, and now she’s dealing with all this.” He waves his hand towards the door.

“So maybe instead of wallowing in it and feeling bad about something you can’t change, this is the time to take care of her.” He can’t fault Max for feeling bad, or for connecting those dots in his mind that have already become a chain, but he doesn’t want it to overwhelm the other vampire. “And that’s not suggesting that you aren’t taking care of her right now. I’m just saying keep doing it. Protect her. Support her. And for fuck’s sake, let’s get rid of this asshole.”

“I’ve offered to kill him.” Max reveals. “I wouldn’t even eat him, he’s too rotten.” It says a lot about you that you still wouldn’t let him kill the asshole, but Max had to give up his humanity in that aspect when he became a creature that preyed on humans.

"I can't imagine that that went over very well with Dolly." although Eddie would be lying if he claimed that he didn't want to do the same.

“She thanked me, but said no.” He huffs, a little amused at your politeness at it. “I don’t like feeling helpless, Ed.”

"No one does." Eddie assures him. And after a moment adds: "Do you want to go have brunch with her? It might help you feel better just to keep an eye on her."

“I took today off, I had planned on it, but now it’s assured.” He nods. “She said Allison was joining her? Are you planning on being there too?”

“I was planning on asking if they wanted more company or if they wanted to girl talk,” Eddie admits with a soft grin. His night with Allison had been fantastic and he had planned on telling Max all about it today — but other things took precedence.

“Then I say we both join them and make it seem like it was our plan all along.” Max hums, feeling slightly better now that he knows that the vampires he is closest with agree with his view. This Derek needs to disappear.

******

You don’t hesitate when Allison comes into the ballroom with her arms open, accepting her embrace and doing your best to maintain any sort of composure. “Hell of a morning,” you huff into her shoulder, trying to make it seem much less drastic than it feels.

“And not a single bit of it is your fault.” Eddie had told her about the meeting, relaying the conversation as it happened, so she doesn’t even pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on.

“It feels like it is.” It feels like everything wrong in the world is your fault, and it’s all weighing down on your shoulders.

“You never would have allowed him to come here.” She shakes her head. “So no, don’t let him ruin your special day.” She hugs you again fiercely and pulls back to look into your eyes. “You have your soulmate, your health, a beautiful house, friends, a coven.” She snorts. “Want me to call them over? We’ll put hexes on him.”

“Do hexes even take when the person is evil to begin with?” You snort softly and shake your head. “It’s not worth it. I just…I was working really hard to put him in my past. And now he’s…very much present again.”

“He’s only present if you allow him to be.” She hums as she turns to wrap her arm around you and guide you out of the ballroom and towards the dining room. “He’s virtually a stranger to you now. You don’t owe him a hello.”

“It’s not quite as easy as that,” you tell her honestly, but don’t resist being led into the next room. Misery may love company but it’s stolen away your appetite, though that doesn’t mean Mrs. Taylor’s magical cooking won’t bring it back.

“Explain it to me, love.” She rubs your back to soothe you. She can’t claim to know that part of your life, despite the things that you have confided in her and the others, but she’s never lived it.

“It’s like…having a light switch in my back. It’s one that he put there and I don’t know to turn it off or take it out.” There is probably a far more eloquent way to describe the sensation, but it fully escapes you this morning. “The switch is just never off. And somehow, when he’s around? It finds another level. I have no fight or flight anymore. It’s just survival mode. I am constantly just clawing desperately at survival but that switch? The fact that it’s on takes up all of my energy. I can’t think, I definitely can’t fight back, I just…melt down.”

Her jaw tightens and if he were in front of her, Allison would punch that asshole dead in his mouth. It sounds like Derek has trained your reactions to fit his dark aura, feeding off of your panic. “You have had it rough.” She murmurs sympathetically, her heart breaking at the grief in your tone. “But, that is the past and now we will make sure that he regrets trying to come back into your life.”

“I just…want him to leave.” Everything was going so well, and you were starting to adjust. Things were looking up for the first time since…well, since your parents died. “I don’t even care what else happens to him. I just want him to go.”

“He can be barred from the estate.” She reminds you quietly. “You hold the power this time.”

“That would just make me terrified to leave the property.” While she might technically be correct, you know yourself. And you know that other problems would arise. "I’d develop agoraphobia in under a week.”

“Max or Eddie should be with you.” Allison immediately ventures. “Or even Mrs. Taylor or Renee. But I think that Derek would be more wary of another man.”

"He wouldn't even blink at me being out with you or one of the girls or Renee. Mrs. Taylor might give him pause, but only because he's kind of afraid of his mother. It would wear off quickly." It does occur to you, though, that Max really is a bit like your guard dog at the moment. And while some others might find it unsettling you find it to be the most comforting fact in the world. "I'll just work my schedule around Max's work schedule. We don't have a coven meeting this week anyway, and it's not as if Mrs. Taylor takes me grocery shopping with her."

“Don’t restrict yourself to the estate.” She urges quietly. “Go out, be seen with your soulmate.”

"There aren't too many places I even go." Over the last few weeks it's been expanding, but that number will surely shrink again in no time. "And Derek wouldn't even know what a dance studio looks like, let alone how to find one."

“Doesn’t matter if he will find you or not.” She shakes her head, guiding you to the table and pulling out a chair for you. There are four place settings, so she assumes that Eddie and Max will be joining you and she’s glad of it. “The point is you not isolating yourself.”

"I'm staying home today," you tell her firmly, not willing to bend on that point. "Anything beyond that...I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Does that count as compromise?"

“Perfect.” She can’t blame you, not at all, and she smiles softly. “I think today is a lovely day to stay in.”

"Tell me all about your night?" Places are set but there is no trace of Mrs. Taylor just yet, and you reach over the table to squeeze Allison's hand. "Please? It will distract me."

“I don’t know how to even describe it.” Allison can’t help but giggle at the mere mention of the night before, blushing furiously. “Magical? Incredible? We talked all night.”

"Just talked?" There is almost a smile on your lips, a half-hearted attempt at the expression tucking itself into the corner of your mouth like a smirk as you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe not just talked.” She admits with a small sigh, looking positively dreamy.

"And you weren't even sure he liked you back." The absolute, pure happiness on your friend's face is the best balm you could ask for right now, reminding you that there are so many good things in the world to combat the bad.

“How was I supposed to know?” She cries out, even if she’s grinning, practically beaming.

“All that matters is you’re happy now.” They have both been such sweet friends to you that seeing them happy together is a marvel. It really feels like these two dear friends had been put in each other’s paths on purpose, it just took them a little while to inch slowly closer to each other on that path.

“And you?” She asks softly, arching a brow. “How did last night go?” She hopes that Max standing beside you is a good indication of the night, but she wants to hear it from you.

“It was…” Your cheeks warm again instantly, happy memories casting a glow over your features that even the events of the last half hour can’t mar. “Pretty perfect, honestly. Everything about it.”

“You were so nervous about dinner, how did you like the tavern?” Allison asks, grinning at the dreamy expression that’s taken over your face. It apparently went really well, and she wonders if you slept in Max’s arms like she did in Eddie’s last night.

“It was really fancy, but it was so romantic.” The entire meal had been like a dance, and as much as you had felt overwhelmingly out of place in the beginning, by the end you didn’t even notice anyone else was there. “And that dance studio invited us back. We were…We were talking about maybe doing a competition together in the future.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up, knowing how much you’ve loved dancing in the past. The fact that you are talking about doing it means that you probably will, since Max is more of a action kind of man than a talker.

“The whole thing was perfect.” You shrug slightly, the light in your eyes dimming a little when you do. “And then we got this, this morning.”

“Max isn’t upset at you, he’s not mad.” Allison reminds you. “He’s probably feeling pretty damn protective right now.”

“I can’t imagine why any of you even still want to spend time with me, knowing what I’m really like.” That mouse — that broken, beaten down, terrified version of yourself colours everything so deeply when it comes out that you can’t manage to see that the rest of who you are is still very much there. And it always has been. It’s just that you’ve been frightened into shutting her up into a small closet in the corner of your mind. It’s only since you got to Newport that you’ve even remembered how to open the door again.

“I see a strong woman.” Allison frowns at your description of yourself. “One who has survived things that I could never fully understand. I admire you, Dolly. You could be embittered, harsh and cold. But you are still amazing warm and compassionate, friendly and loving. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you? Me or anyone else?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see myself the way you seem to,” you admit softly. The way she defends you so fiercely, even to your yourself, is heartening. You just feel so tired from finding out that this fight — with him, for yourself and for your freedom — isn’t over yet.

“I think you will.” She tilts her head playfully. “When you realize that you have an immortal soulmate who would destroy to protect you, you’ll see how strong you are.”

“Maybe.” There’s no use arguing about it, of course, and anything is possible. Even if it isn’t likely. “Maybe one day I’ll find the edge of this shell and crack my way out of it. Until then, I’m just very glad to have people in my life who don’t mind a little bit of nuttiness.”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Allison laughs, wide eyed. “We’re all nuts here. It’s part of our charm.”

Her honest, full-throated laughter helps you relax just a touch more and you smile. “Maybe that’s why I’m so comfortable here after all.”

“Perhaps.” She teases, reaching out and buffing your shoulder slightly. “Otherwise, you would have run for the hills. A strange inheritance, vampires? It’s almost unbelievable.”

“It’s the three-volume gothic novel I always wanted,” you admit, a small and slightly guilty grin cracking your expression. “I just never thought I’d be in the story.”

“It’s much better than reading it, isn’t it?” She laughs. “I never thought I would have the supporting actress roll to a wonderful main character, and I love it.”

“You are second to no one, honey. Never. You are vibrant and loving and you are definitely leading lady material.” Nothing about Allison’s personality says anything but shining star, and you’ll tell her that every day.

“No, I like the supporting role.” She insists with a giggle. “It’s not bad at all. Plus, I’ve discovered a new best friend because of all this.

"And you finally got your man." Your smile quirks slightly, and you grin in amusement. "Well...vampire."

"Man enough." Allison snorts, grinning back at you and biting her lip. "Although we didn't do that. Yet."

"Neither did we." It would have been too much for the very first night together, and it would have made this morning all the more devastating to be interrupted the way that you were.

"Do you wish you had?" She asks curiously. "Since you had that unpleasant visitor?"

"Honestly I think it would have made this morning even worse," you admit, though you aren't sure if you'll follow your logic. "It would have been an even ruder interruption and I would have felt all the more exposed."

"I can appreciate that." She hums, biting her lip and reaching out to touch your hand. "I know that having a drink to calm your nerves isn't your style, is there something that does help?" She asks, wanting to help you move past your anxiety from your ex's visit.

"Tea." It seems like a funny thing to say out loud, or at least a thing that makes you sound like an old British lady, but it's true. "Max was talking about helping with some renovations on the teahouse. Taking out the stove and replacing it with a fireplace to make it a little more witchy and a little less mid-60s."

"Ohhhhhh." Her eyes widen and heart practically appear in their depths, falling in love with the idea. "That would be amazing, wouldn't it? What do you think? That's the most important question, of course."

"I think if he ever can't find me, the first place he needs to look is my little medieval witch teahouse paradise." The thought is just as dreamy to you as it seems to be to Allison and you're glad that it is one more thing that you will be able to share with your friend. "And I think we should take the chance to build a small altar in the teahouse, too. The bookshelf is just the right height to put it on top."

"I think that would be a good idea." She nods. "You should be able to take anything out of the tower you would want to make it more your own."

"If you had asked me when I got here, I would have said that I would never get used to living in a place like this, but it's become home so quickly."

"Cookie always said that this house was meant to be a home." Allison muses.

"And she was right about that." Eddie says from the doorway, flashing both you and Allison a warm smile before rounding the table to kiss Allison's cheek and sit down in the chair to her right.

“Awwww, how sweet.” Max is right behind him, doing the exactly same thing for you, even though he’s busting Eddie’s balls. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks softly after bussing your cheek gently.

“I’m starting to feel a little better.” It’s a miracle that you are, since recovery was never exactly something you experienced when you were dealing with Derek on your own.

“We’ll have you feeling amazing by the end of brunch. Completely forgetting about this little interruption in our day.” Max reaches for your hand as soon as he sits down and kisses the back of it.

“I was just telling Alli about the tea house plans,” you tell him, already feeling that much safer with him beside you and reassuring you.

“You’ve decided you want to do it?” Max looks thrilled that you like the idea. “I can guarantee you will love it. And Mr. Taylor knows a crew that can have it done in days.”

“It doesn’t have to be rushed.” After all, besides you and Allison, everyone else has all the time is the world. “But I think it would be really nice. I can add a second altar on top of the bookshelf and have it be a little more casual than the altar space in the tower.

“It would be nice to have before the snows come.” Eddie agrees, nodding eagerly. “It can be even cozier and I bet a little bat would love to bask in front of the fire.”

Allison giggles at the image and you smile a little wider than you had been a moment ago. “I can see it now. A little bat window in the door instead of a cat door.” You muse, just imagining how silly that is as Mrs. Taylor comes in with a pot of tea and a carafe of warm blood.

Max rolls his eyes, still not aware that Allison knows he’s the bat in question, but he grins at you. “I think Cutie would like to hang out there with you.”

The soft, giggling laugh that Allison lets free is barely stifled, and you squeeze Max’s hand gently. “Apparently,” you murmur after thanking Mrs. Taylor for pouring your tea. “Cookie had told the coven a little while ago. About your…other form.”

Max’s eyes widen and he looks startled. For once looking like prey instead of a predator. “Oh.” He grunts. “So- you all knew it was me? That night?” He asks the other witch.

“We didn’t think it would be nice to tell your secret before you were ready to tell her yourself,” Allison confesses. “It just seemed very sweet to us. That you felt so attached and protective over Dolly so early on.”

“I couldn’t explain it at the time.” Max admits, knowing he’s told you the same thing. “I just needed to know she was safe.”

"I promise you." Her eyes move for Max over to you and back again. "Whenever she's with the coven, we'll keep her safe." She never could hae understood the real threat before, but now that she does? She is ready and willing to be on the front lines with you.

You welfare is the most important thing, so Max nods seriously. “Is there- I don’t know - some kind of protection spell you can do?”

“I’ve never been very good with spell work,” you murmur, always having felt like a bad witch for it. Your best strengths in witchcraft were when you were young, and you would routinely craft lucky charms for friends or loved ones. “Candace and Tracy and I are,” Allison offers. “We can teach you. Help you work on your spells if you want to. And if you don’t, we’ll just make sure the estate has a damn good protective barrier.” “There are supplies in the tower, should require specialized items.” Mrs. Taylor offers when she re-enters the room. Quiche, salad, fresh scones with jam and clotted cream, and a tray of arrayed meats that includes blood sausages all fill out the brunch table well.

“Mrs. Taylor would know.” Max muses. “Has the entire estate catalogued. Knows down to the number of spare toothbrushes in the cabinets for guests.”

“Seven.” Mrs. Taylor reports without flinching. She makes sure that everything is set out well and nods. Having learned that you like meal times but aren’t as formal as the last mistress of the house, she’s switched to serving meals family style. It seems to be going well. “There is dessert if you have room for it,” she tells you with a smile. “If not, it will be lovely with afternoon tea. But if you’ll excuse me, I will collect some things from the tower that Ms. Brown favored for protection spells.” And like that, she is gone again in the blink of an eye.

“Leave it to her.” Max wraps his arm around the back of your chair. “Most of the supplies will be in your tea house by the time you finish your first scone.”

“I don’t doubt it.” And you don’t think you ever would doubt Mrs. Taylor. Not when it comes to her ability to get things done.

“Everything looks so good.” Allison moans, looking over the table with astonishment. It was supposed to be a simple brunch, but the housekeeper had outdone herself.

“Dig in.” You encourage, nudging the silver carafe on the table toward Max first. A conversation with Mrs. Taylor the other day about blood consumption had lead to this particular idea and you wanted to know how he felt about it.

“This is new.” Max hums, looking over at you with a raised brow. “What made you decide to try this?”

“We’re trying out a slightly less formal way of doing things.” The meal all set out in the table and the slightly more formal China — at least, it isn’t the priceless one-of-a-kind French Limoges China set that Cookie had favoured — and now warm blood in coffee cups instead of wine glasses. It’s all a little more normal. Or at least as normal as this household might ever get. “Is it okay with you?” You look over at Eddie, who is helping Allison fill her plate. “I just thought everyone would be more comfortable without feeling like things had to be hidden.”

“Are you okay with it?” That’s what’s most important to him. While he’s consumed blood around you, you had never been aware of it. Teacups aren’t exactly inconspicuous.

“I want to be.” The best you can do is be honest with him, and this is your honest answer. “I want to do my best to understand, and to normalize blood in this house. Because you all deserve to exist as yourselves just as much as any of us do.”

“Vampire rights.” Max grins, finding it charming that you would be so concerned about it. “You are so damn sweet.”

“You’re my soulmate,” you remind him, though to your surprise it’s the first time that a different set of words has ardently risen to the top of your mind in their place. “I want you to be happy and comfortable.” Obviously, they all know now how little comfort and happiness there has really been in your life.

“And that’s my wish for you.” He counters. “So we’ll try this, but if it makes you queasy or uncomfortable, we won’t do it again.”

“Deal.” Of course you can’t blame him for being gentle with you. Not after this morning.

He grins, sending you a small wink before pulling his arm from around you. “Good, Dolly, let’s fix your plate.” He murmurs. “We worked up an appetite last night.”

“Dancing,” you clarify, knowing that Eddie has to have heard every second of what went on between you and Max last night and not knowing how much Max will have told him about yet. There’s still a smile in the corner of your mouth, though, and heat in your cheeks. You are know it was more than just dancing.

“Not that much dancing.” Max snorts. “Don’t get embarrassed sweetheart, we’re among friends.” He teases you. “Eddie wasn’t listening to your breathy moans because he was listening to Allison’s.”

Even though your ears burn immediately, Allison is the one who blushes furiously, and you both end up laughing. “That’s…that’s a fair point,” she admits. “I guess we’re all destined to a lot more breakfasts for four from now on.”

“And that will make Mrs. Taylor’s panties cream.” Max snorts, grinning devilishly.

“Nobody needs that image,” Eddie protests, practically cringing as he takes the carafe of blood from in front of Max to pour his own cup. He’s laughing though, underneath it, and Allison snorts and shakes her head.

“Mr. Taylor is very happy about that.” Despite being the less visible of the two, the vampire soulmate of the housekeeper was still desperate in love with his mate, despite the passage of time.

“They’re a very sweet pair.” Although both vampires do their utmost to be professional around you, you had seen them being affectionate more than once as you passed by the pair and they had always struck you as very much in love and like the unofficial parents of the rest of the staff.

“The stories they can tell.” Max tuts, rolling his eyes. “Never had so many ‘historical’ movies ruined in all my life.” It’s a joke, one meant to lighten the mood and turn it playful.

“I can’t wait to hear them all.” It sounds like the most heavenly pastime in the world to you, to sit and listen to all of those stories, and you can’t help the dreamy tone in your voice. “That sounds amazing.”

Eddie smirks at Max, having figured that you would enjoy that. “You know, one day, Mrs. Taylor should show you how to wear all the different styles of clothes. Have a little try on session.” He suggests.

“You love dress up, you know you do.” Allison smiles at the idea. She’s seen you with some of those dresses already and how you light up with historical fashion. “That…does sound like fun.” You have to admit that, as all four of you start your meal.

******

The rest of the day seemingly passed easy enough. You had slowly shed the unease that Derek’s visit had left under the guise of Max’s less than subtle flirting and teasing. Never anything that could be considered mean, all of it meant to make you feel good. When you had finally fallen asleep in his arms, Max sighs, tightening his hold on you as if to protect you in sleep.

It’s probably owing to having a protector that can and will sit up all night that you actually manage to fall asleep. The fear that lays deep in your bones hasn’t entirely dissipated over the course of the day and you’re reasonably assured to have nightmares about Derek breaking into your house or sneaking into your room to hurt you. Or, you would have. If you didn’t have a small army of very protective vampires to watch over you.

The door knob twists slowly, causing Max to snap his head towards the door. He hadn’t heard anyone approach so it must be him. Watching still as the door starts to swing open like a ghost, the darkness of the hallway concealing him before he steps into view. His eyes are fixed on the bed. Not on Max, but on you. Soft and yearning in a way that he had never seen on his sire’s face beyond when he was with Cookie. There’s a love there that Max can’t begin to understand and yet he realizes that you are so much more than just a random relative of the late witch.

He holds up one hand to indicate he will not be speaking and does not want Max to speak. Instead he focuses all of his attention solely on you, and steps closer to your side of the bed as he begins to filter through your thoughts and past the barrier of your dreams. From the haze of sleep, it is suddenly a crisp spring morning with birds singing outside the kitchen window of your childhood home. The smell of coffee and pancakes and something reminiscent of minerals and earth tickle your nose as you sit at the breakfast table with your father. And…two older people. You recognize them but can’t remember their names, though the part of your mind not engaged in Sleep insists this is Yayo and his wife. But you never made up a wife for Yayo. Did you? But you must have — or else how did she get into your dream…

It’s amazing that you are awake, but you’re not. Your eyes are open, but there is still the glaze of sleep in your eyes. It’s something that he knows vampires can do, but he’s never actually witnessed it before.

“But why can’t we go?” You ask, young and afraid of missing out on any opportunity for an adventure. Being denied a chance at going on a trip seems cruel to your little mind.

He smiles indulgently, careful to not reach for you since your mother was so wary of him being here. “Muñequita wishes to go, mija.” He urges, and his wife, beautiful and graceful, nods. “She will be at such a disadvantage in her destiny if you continue to shield her from her powers.” She hums. “By her age, you were already in control of your spells and you’ve barely taught her the basics!”

"She has her whole life ahead of her, Papa." You mother, hair perpetually tied back under a kerchief and long blouses always flowing over her jeans, doesn't take her eyes off the pancakes on the griddle in front of her even when your father gets up from the table to take things out of the oven. Bacon. The smell fills the kitchen and makes you grin happily, barely registering what the adults are talking about. "She doesn't need to be spending her summers surrounded by wizened old witches who want to poke and prod her or vampires who think they can experiment on her. She'll come into her powers just fine on her own if she really is what you think she is."

He hisses under his breath, a quick scowl to show his displeasure. “There has already been enough running from destiny in this family.” He reminds her, arching a brow and settling a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We had once thought you would be the one to take this role.”

"I know you did." When she puts the last pancakes on the platter and sets it down in the middle of the table, your mother ruffles your hair affectionately and pours you a glass of orange juice before starting to serve breakfast to the assembled family. "But I chose a human life instead. And I will not apologize for being happy."

“I have a human life.” Your grandmother reminds her, the tone slightly sharp due to the insult she has just subtly given both her and her father. “And it has been a glorious one, as you might recall.”

"But I am not human." The quiet reminder from your mother isn't angry, but it is the point. "And I know that you aren't happy that I've chosen to live as one, but it is what I have chosen."

“But you are better than a human.” Yayo insists. “The best of both species and yet you squander your life.” He views this as a rejection of the life he has given her, could give you and it irks.

"I'm happy, Papa. I have a job that I love, my wonderful husband, and my baby. Would you be happier if I had never given you a granddaughter? If I had stayed in your house to be constantly miserable for as many more centuries as I'll live?" Life in that house had been so happy early on, that she hates that it is now a sticking point. Happiness is all she's ever wanted and she cannot see why her parents would not let her decide what that would mean.

“You could have been happy with Emanuel!” His voice dips down with sorrow and underlying fury. “That house was built for you and your mother. The first stone set the day I learned a miracle had occurred.”

The look exchanged between your father and mother at the mention of a name you don't know makes you uneasy, an acute pain twitching in the back of your mind even if you don't understand quite what it is. "I'll see your house one day, Yayo." You promise your grandfather brightly, as though that would smooth the entire argument over without further question. "But I'm not big enough for it yet."

“Of course you will, muñequita.” Instantly, his attention is back on you, his smile soft and reassuring, like it always is. “One day it will be yours.”

"One day." The devout love you have for your parents is different than the affection you have for your grandfather. Even at eight years old, he is your best friend and biggest fan. Phone calls, letters, gifts, and even flowers arriving to your front door born by big men with embroidered shirts always make it into your little hands with glee. "But not yet. Not until I'm bigger. But then I;ll be big enough to read all your books."

“No.” Your mild mannered, polite and always agreeable father snaps, slapping the pan he had been holding down on the counter. “No, you will not be reading anything that he has.”

"Daddy?" The moment startles everyone in the room, you most of all, and your mother stands up from the table immediately to move to her husband's side. Her eyes are still on her parents, though, and she takes a deep breath. "I think it's time for you both to go," she decides, her hand gently massaging her husband's arm to calm him. "It's been a nice weekend, but I think we should cut it short before there's any more arguing."

“Mija-“ Your grandfather reaches out to his daughter, nearly blanching at the idea of leaving but she shakes her head. Making him freeze when she growls. “Darling, your father is-“ your grandmother stands, nearly wringing her hands as she tries to diffuse the tension. “I’m tired of the excuses, the what ifs and the what should have beens.” Your father rants. “You cannot accept that your daughter wants the life that she lives, that she chose after living for over one hundred years, then you are no longer welcomed in it.” He turns to his wife and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, baby, I’ve kept quiet, I’ve tried to support you, but all they do is insist you have the life they choose. You told me that if they started up again, you were done. Well, here we are.”

******

The feeling of drowning reaches into your dream, pulling you out of it which such a violent rip that you find yourself gasping and sitting straight up in bed, clawing at the blankets that were tucked up around your neck and shoulders. Max is right beside you still, you feel him sit up next to you the split second you realize you're awake. But there is another figure in the room. Soft, dark curls. A round face with mysterious eyes. That proud smile tucked up in the corner of his mouth as he watches you just as carefully as he always has. It takes a second, but you know you're not dreaming anymore. And you've just had either the most vivid dream of your life, or somehow the explanation for how real that felt will be much, much stranger. "Y—Yayo?" Is he really standing in front of you? Flesh and blood and as real as the morning sun pushing back against the curtains drawn over your bedroom windows.

Pride swells in his chest, just like it did every time he had heard his ‘nickname’ fall from your lips. “Good morning, muñequita.” He hums quietly, eyes alight with happiness. “It is so good to see you again, granddaughter.”

______

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My Masterlist!

[lesone-shot]

Jealousy

Leighton Murray x fem!reader

In which Leighton gets jealous of what hers (you)

TW: Mention of alcohol

Y/n and Leighton started going out a few months ago, by going out it means they've been acting like a couple without the official dating title.

After Leighton came out, every girl on campus was pretty much in love with her. But she only had eyes on the girl who wasn't interested in her charm, Y/N.

Not that Y/N didn't like Leighton, the other way round actually, she thought Leighton was extremely attractive and cool. But so did all the other gay girls on campus, therefore Y/N decided to not chase after the girl everyone wanted.

One day, at a party, Leighton gathered enough courage to talk to Y/N, ignoring all the other girls, which surprised Y/N and she decided to give it a shot.

Y/N and Leighton kept on talking, and they realized they had quite a lot in common, so, they eventually decided to go on a date.

One date had turned into a few more, and now the girls were dearly interested in each other and didn't want to be apart. Everybody thought they were dating but they just acted like a couple. The way Leighton would patiently wait for Y/N after class, for them to walk to lunch together. They would have even had to be together to fall asleep, which annoyed their roommates.

They were pretty much in a relationship, and even if they weren't official, everyone knew to not get between them. There were obviously some arguments, one of them mostly used the fact that they weren't dating. Still, no one made an effort to ask out the other since even they assumed to be a couple.

Everything was fine though, until a new boy entered the school.

It wouldn't be an issue, but he was in most of Y/N's classes and Leighton had a bad feeling about him. Leighton was certain he was trying to get with Y/N. and her girl didn't even notice it, so it definitely frustrated her.

Currently, Leighton was sitting on a bench waiting for Y/N to leave class, for them to go to meet their friends at lunch together. "Hey, baby!" Leighton heard after a while, recognizing the voice, she immediately looks us with a smile, dropping whatever she was doing.

"Hi, my love" Leighton answered, getting up to kiss her girl on the cheek, causing a small blush to appear on Y/N's face, her stomach doing flips. "Let's go" Leighton continues, grabbing onto Y/N's hand, as Y/N interlaced their fingers

But before they started walking, YN's name was called back by Ryan, the boy Leighton didn't like. "hey, Y/N, wait up!". As Y/N looks back, Leighton rolls her eyes, " do you need anything?" Y/N asks sweetly. "Yeah actually, can you please help me with today's lesson? I'm not really understanding it," he asks, explaining why, making Leighton look around annoyed.

"Of course!" Y/N smiled at him, as Leighton just looked at her surprised. "I can't today, but I'll text you tomorrow", she continues, not noticing the way Ryan looked her up and down with a smirk before he agreed, Leighton's grip on Y/N's hand tightened.

They both said bye afterward, to go their own ways. Leighton let out a scoff once he was out of their sight. "What now?" Y/N gently asks, looking at Leighton, "He was totally flirting with you", Leighton explains with a frown, making Y/N giggle at her jealousy, "He just wants some help".

"Yeah well, it didn't look like that to me," she said annoyed, as Y/N started caressing Leighton's hand with her thumb to calm her down. "Don't worry, Leigh" Y/N says, hoping to relieve her doubts. "How was your day?" she asks.

They keep walking towards the cafeteria, changing the topic to talk about their mornings instead. After some time, they eventually reach their friends at the lunch table and greet them. Y/N and Leighton sitting side by side. Y/N joins in on the conversation, apologizing for being a bit late, "it's fine" Bella answers with a smile. "We were talking about going to a party, you guys wanna go?" she said looking between her friends.

"Why not?" Y/N nods, looking at Leighton, who agrees with her, "Of course, seems fun". "Great!" Bella responds.

"Hey babe, how does this look?" Leighton asked Y/N, holding a shirt up against herself. Y/N turns to Leighton, a smile appearing on her face, "you look amazing", she responds, walking towards her as Leighton finishes putting on the shirt.

They were currently getting ready for the party. Y/N and Leighton even considered staying in, but they had already said they were going, they couldn't back down. "So do you" Leighton whispers, looking down at the dress she's letting Y/N borrow before she leans in to share a loving kiss with Y/N before her bedroom door slams open.

"Oh, sorry", Kimberley says, looking between the girls. "I should have knocked, I-" she continues explaining before Leighton cuts her off. "It's fine." she reassures her friend, "Okay well, are you ready?" Kimberly asks, "We're leaving now"

"Yes let's go" Y/N answered, smiling at Kimberly, as she turned to Leighton. "Let's go" Leighton agrees, intertwining her fingers with Y/N's as they follow Leighton's roommates out of the dorm and towards the party. As they entered the party, they were immediately greeted by the loud music and sweaty bodies around them.

The group slipped apart, though, Whitney and Kimberly going to meet some of their other friends as the rest found a spot near the dance floor, joining their friends in dancing along to the music. After a short while Y/N suggested getting some drinks, and Leighton agreed, so she headed towards the kitchen as Leighton waited for her.

As she grabs two cups she hears someone call her name, turning around, she sees Ryan standing there with a cup of his own. "Hey, I didn't know you were here?" He says smirking, causing Y/N to smile in return. "Yeah I came with some friends" Y/N explained looking back at the crowd. "Nice, do you want me to help you get some drinks?" he offers with a gentle smile.

"I think I've got it, but thank you" Y/N answers, moving to grab a bottle, but as her fingers reached for the drink Ryan grabbed it instead. "Let me pour you a drink, I feel like being a gentleman" he chuckles, winking at Y/N, something that she assumed was a joke.

Y/N did think it was a bit weird he kept insisting but she didn't mind, he was just being friendly after all. What she didn't notice was the fact that Leighton was watching their interaction and the fact that Y/N was oblivious to Ryan's advances, her jealousy kept growing every time he smiled at her.

"Well, thanks," Y/N says as Ryan pours the alcohol into the cup. "You know" he starts, leaning closer to whisper in her ear, "You look very beautiful," he says, pulling away and handing her the cups.

That was Leighton's last straw, without hesitation, she pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes fixed on Y/N and Ryan as she approached them. "I really like your dress", Ryan continued. "Thanks, it's mine." Leighton answers, since she overheard him. She wrapped an arm around Y/N, pulling her close to her side.

By now, Y/N was very clear of Ryan's attempts, and even if she could handle it herself, she was glad Leighton was there. Y/N turned to Leighton, deciding to tease her. "Hey there, Ryan was just helping me get some drinks," she said, pretending to be confused.

Leighton forced a smile, her grip on Y/N tightening imperceptibly. "That's sweet, but I can handle it from here" she replied, her eyes never leaving Ryan's as she spoke. Ryan glanced between Y/N and Leighton, a smirk playing on his lips as he put his hands up in surrender, "I'll see you around then" he said, his voice laced with amusement as he walked away.

Once he was out of the earshot, Leighton let out a sigh. She turned to Y/N, her expression tense. "What were you thinking?" she demanded, her voice laced with frustration. Though Y/N understood Leighton's frustration she decided to tease her a bit more, just to see her reaction. Y/N's eyes met Leighton's gaze. "Oh come on, you can't seriously be jealous of him", she teased a playful grin on her lips.

Leighton's jaw clenched as she struggled to contain her emotions "I saw the way he was flirting with you, and you just stood there, smiling like it was nothing" she accused. "Well, that's not really my fault", Y/N defended, leaning closer to Leighton.

Leighton felt a surge of possessiveness over her, and without thinking, she grabbed Y/N's hand and pulled her towards the exit. "Lets go" she muttered, her voice cold as she led Y/N outside. Once they were alone, Leighton turned to face Y/N, her expression mad yet hurt. "I can't believe you would just let him flirt with you like that" she exclaimed.

Y/N decided to finally stop teasing her, once she realized Leighton was actually hurt, "Baby don't worry, I would never let him" Y/N says, as Leighton just looks at her with her arms crossed. "Trust me, love, once I realized he was trying to flirt with me I was going to cut him off, but you came along" Y/N explains, "I promise, I was just teasing you now", she whispers, moving to kiss Leighton's cheek.

Leighton wrapped her arms around Y/N's waist with a sigh, giving in, she couldn't stay angry at Y/N for long, even if she tried. "Be mine, Y/N" Leighton says, "like me girlfriend"

Y/N's body melted at Leighton's words, a tender smile on her lips. "I thought I already was?" she replied, pretending to be confused, as Leighton looked at her with her eyes widened. "I'm kidding" Y/N giggles. causing Leighton to playfully roll her eyes. "I would love to be your girlfriend," Y/N said, her voice filled with warmth and affection as she pressed a gentle kiss to Leighton's lips.

They hold each other for a few more seconds until Leighton pulls away. She shares another kiss with Y/N "Baby, can I see your phone for a second?" Leighton asked, her voice quiet but gentle. Y/N's brows furrow in confusion. "Sure, is everything okay?" she asked, handing her the phone.

Leighton unlocked the phone, going to Ryan's contacts, typing a message. 'hey Ryan, keep it in your pants or find someone that will enjoy a thing like you, as for tomorrow (or ever), I won't help you with the lesson because me and my girlfriend will be busy' Leighton finishes typing and presses send without second-guessing, as Y/N just watched her in amusement.

"There, thank you pretty," Leighton says, blowing Y/N a kiss as she hands her the phone again. "I can't believe you just sent that" Y/N giggles, while Leighton looks at her with a smile, "I did" she shrugs.

"Come on" Leighton smirks at Y/N, grabbing her hand to guide her back to the dorm. "Let me show you love as my girlfriend now," Leighton says giving Y/N another kiss, a promise of many more that night.

[johnslittlespoon]

accidentally just created my own buckbucky college au oops (i love college aus tho, this was far overdue tbh) so here's like ~2k words of (semi–nsfw) drabble that i wanna turn into a oneshot/series :-)

thinking about modern au pre–established relationship buckbucky who meet in their first year of college because they apply to an ad to rent a two bedroom apartment near campus, complete strangers save for a few texts back and forth until move in day.

they become fast friends despite how opposite they are, john being a cliche frat boy type (but subverting expectations by majoring in something english–related? waxing secret poetry about his 'obvious as the sun to everyone but gale' crush on his roommate lol) and gale being a studious math/science major, no interest in parties or campus culture. pining aside, everything's just fine until:

john does something stupid a few months into the school year and ends up spraining/breaking his dominant arm– probably wipes out trying to ride his bike home to his and gale's apartment while drunk after a party. gale gets a call at midnight from a sheepish john asking if he can come drive him to the hospital, and of course he does, though after his initial concern when he picks john up at the side of some random street, he's fuming at john's idiocy.

"you could've rode into traffic, john. jesus, you're gonna give me a stroke one of these days, you gotta start using your brain more." and john's drenched in cold–sweat from pain as he cradles his arm to his chest, head tilted back against the headrest and trying not to curse out every red light as his head spins, but he still cracks a weak smile and says "c'mon buck, you'd be bored if i started using my brain." gale glances over and the stern look is enough to shut john up.

this injury leads to gale having to help him with certain tasks for a bit, like shaving his face, brushing his teeth, doing his hair, tying shoes, etc. john's stubborn the day after, independent to a fault, refusing to ask for help, and gale watches with mild amusement/hidden winces, not wanting to push because he knows by now it'll only make john dig his heels in. gale only decides that enough is enough when he's walking past the half–open bathroom door the next afternoon and suddenly hears a sharp inhale and a stream of profanities and pokes his head in to find john's cut his jaw trying to shave with his left hand.

the intimacy and domesticity of it all– john pretends he's inconvenienced, but once he realizes this means he gets to stare at gale's focussed face up close as he sits on the bathroom counter and gale stands between his legs carefully shaving away his stubble, he's a lot less reluctant to accept help. but being that close to gale's face and being able to unabashedly study his long lashes and the curve of his lips is dangerous for john's lack of impulse control, barely keeping his pining under wraps from the moment they'd met, let alone with this newfound proximity they have to fall into the routine of.

so john has fun being a shithead on purpose during these moments, both to distract his yearning brain and for his own entertainment, just yapping away while gale's frustratedly trying to grab him by his jaw and hold him still for five seconds. biting down on the toothbrush when gale's trying to do a proper job of brushing his teeth so gale has to wrestle it away like he's playing tug of war with a dog, being an asshole and jerking his shoe to the side while gale's doing up his laces for him, heart leaping at the thrill he gets from gale's touches getting firmer when he's fed up, or from being pinned by irritated blue eyes.

he has no idea gale's pining just as hard, because gale's a master of concealing emotions in thanks to a very different upbringing than john's, and because while gale doesn't hide his queerness, he's not as open with it as john is. but gale's losing his mind just as much each time john needs his help, and the way he feels his self control slipping scares him.

this little dance around each other probably comes to a peak when john's being extra difficult one day while gale's trying to tame his wild curls for him. gale's got john pressed back against the bathroom counter with a scowl, working his gelled fingers through thick dark hair, and john can barely think straight because oh, has he ever spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about gale's hands in his hair under very different circumstances.

john's got a grin so big it near splits his face in half as he purposefully leans out of gale's reach, pulling every annoying thing he can think of because if he focuses too hard on gale's motions, he's gonna pop a very inconvenient boner with no hope of concealing it from gale with the way he's pressed up against him.

but gale's got twenty minutes until his next class and it's a ten minute walk from their apartment, and he's at the end of his rope, so he finally snaps and without giving it a second thought he closes the last bit of distance between them to grab at the back of john's hair, and he pulls, hard.

the smile slides off john's face as his mouth falls open and his hips reflexively jerk forward and whatever scolding gale was about to give him dies in his throat because holy shit. there's a few seconds where both of them just stare at each other wide eyed with their hearts pounding, john internally spiralling because he thinks he's just fucked everything up, gale internally spiralling because oh my god, he hasn't been misreading john's behaviour around him.

gale whispers a "fuck" and, more impulsive than he's ever allowed himself to be, goes in for the kiss, hand still tight in john's hair, and john whines into his mouth and his hands fly to gale's waist and everything gets heated really quick– until gale pulls away with a gasp for breath, both of them panting, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. and then gale's ducking out of the bathroom and grabbing his backpack from the entry way and all but sprinting out of the apartment.

john's left standing there harder than he's ever been in his life but also panicking because he's not sure whether he's fucked up or whether gale's just overwhelmed, because he knows gale well enough to know he likes his space when big things happen.

but gale also knows john well enough to know how big of an overthinker he is; they've probably had to work through some incidents where their communication styles have clashed over the few months they've been roomies. so after his hands stop shaking enough while he's walking to campus, he types out a message to john letting him know 'I'm all good. Sorry for running, was gonna be late for class and panicked. Talk later, yeah?'

and john sighs in relief, texts back a 'np. sounds good :)' and then promptly shoves a hand down his pants and comes embarrassingly quick with the sting of gale's hands in his hair still fresh in his mind.

they talk things out somewhat, blahblahblah plotting problem for future me, but they're both shy and awkward around each other for a bit, which is so out of character for john and how obnoxiously flirty and loud mouthed he normally is.

so maybe what finally breaks them out of this tiptoeing around each other after a few days is something stupid– specifically, john ends up pent up and frustrated because trying to get off with his left hand just isn't doing it for him. and he's one of those 'once a day minimum' guys, so this isn't something he can just ignore; finds his temper is shorter, and he can't focus as well, etc. drama queen.

either gale comments on it lightheartedly and john blurts out his problem unthinkingly, or john makes an offhand joke about it, and gale thinks john's lack of impulse control is starting to rub off on him, because after a beat of silence, he gets out an "i can help."

john's head snaps over to look at him so fast he feels like he gives himself whiplash, eyes comically rounded, wondering if he's heard gale wrong or if gale's making a rare flirtatious joke. gale blinks back at him, looking just as surprised, tips of his ears going a little pink, but he doesn't laugh or throw in a 'only kidding!'

mumbles a "y'know, if you want," second guessing himself as if what happened in the bathroom a few days before isn't in john's top three best things that have ever happened to him list. john gets out a "yeah– yeah, i want," uncharacteristically nervous, and gale nods, turning his attention back to his laptop. and john just stands there in the kitchen, flabbergasted, shifting uncertainly.

works up the courage to shyly ask, "like. now? or." and he feels like he's never fumbled the bag so hard in his life, unable to remember the last time he's felt shy when talking about sex–related stuff, realizes just how bad his crush on gale's gotten. beyond a crush, at this point. and it makes it worse that gale's so nonchalant now, humming to himself as if in deep thought before saying "later. i've gotta get this assignment done."

john loses his mind over those next few hours, trying to be patient and give gale space to focus, but he's half hard the whole time and can't think about anything other than what gale means by 'helping'. gale can sense his impatience from the other side of their apartment, and he can't help the way it makes him smile to himself, having fun teasing john without even needing to do anything, and without john knowing it's fully intentional.

unfortunately this arrangement, however it plays out, probably leads to a lotta miscommunication and repression of feelings, because they're both dumb boys who suck at communicating, neither one of them wanting to ruin a good thing (aka an inevitable friends with benefits situation) by bringing up their feelings for the other. but there's plenty of hot sex and light kink exploration in the meantime, and eventually they sort their shit out, likely by accident like every other situation they've stumbled into together.

and not to cliffhang pre–smut, but i'll leave it there because this is way too long and if i do turn it into a oneshot i don't wanna write it all out of my system into this drabble before it makes it into a fic loll <3

[thecomfortgoth]

Kiss From A Rose

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI (istfg do not)

2k words (I got carried away lol)

CW: smut, masturbation with a toy (F receiving, M giving), praise kink, soft!dom Eddie, oral sex at the end (F receiving), lil bit fluffy and lovey, established relationship, reader and Eddie are in their mid/late 20's, pet names, no use of y/n, little bit of possessiveness ig

Please let me know if I missed anything above

A/N: Here's a small drabble that may or may not have come to me in the form of my overactive imagination at night, I will not be taking any further questions, thankyouuuuu. Feedback is very appreciated as this is my first ever smut drabble thingy I've ever written and I'm nervous lol. Banners and seperators made by me (it was my first go, I tried my best)

You're not sure how long you've been laying here. Not sure how long you've been trying to muffle your whines and gasps as your boyfriend Eddie gives you the kind of orgasms you'd only been able to dream about before you met him. After all, you definitely don't want your roommates to wake up again hearing you two going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. You'd only just moved in and one awkward breakfast had been enough for you to tell Eddie when they were home, you both had to keep it down.

To which he just smirked and said "Is that a challenge sweetheart?"

That's what lead to this. To him having you laying on your back in your bed that very same night, legs parted wide for him, the man in question laid on his side next to you, an arm slung around you grabbing at the soft skin of your breasts and teasing the peaks of your nipples with his fingertips, his other hand between your legs using your rose vibrator on your throbbing clit.

Your pussy had really been through it tonight, since you'd lost count of how many orgasms you'd had now. And Eddie knew that god damn toy made you crumble with ease, especially when he used it on you. He just seemed to do it right, seemed to inherently know exactly how to make it suck at your soaked clit in just the right way, at just the right angle. And he would build it up torturously slow, inching the pressure and speed up bit by fucking bit. He was a bastard for that, but holy fuck did you love it.

"Does that feel good, angel? Oh it does doesn't it? I can tell from that beautiful look on your face, you're gonna lose it soon aren't you baby?" He coo's mockingly sweet in your ear, a low dark chuckle coming from him, his voice just above a whisper as he kisses along your cheek and jaw, down to the juncture of your neck, groaning low and quiet, small growls every now and then when you clench this way or that way, twitch in his arms a little too much, almost like the hum of an engine. His solid cock lay between the underside of your thigh and his own stomach, his arm keeping you from moving it at all, his hips rolling against your plushness as he chased any friction he could while he brought you over the edge again and got his stamina back to fuck you again.

He couldn't give *you* a break though. No, you were going to keep falling apart for him until you either begged him to stop or he was done with you, whatever came first. And you knew you'd *never* beg for such a thing, you loved when he did this, you loved when he was like this, completely insatiable, almost primal and obsessed and needy to give you as many delicious endings as he could. That was Eddie's thing. He was definitely a giver. Seeing you get off was enough to make him jizz his pants. And it had several times in the past.

You fisted the sheet beneath you, turning your head slightly to look at him through half lidded misty eyes, seeing him look at you with both fondness and lust, his breath now fanning your face. Your chest was heaving, your tits moving rapidly with each breath you took, a thin layer of sweat formed over the expanse of your body as he gazed over you, a small grunt coming from him as he turned the damn toy he had attached to your bud up a notch, making you gasp loudly, your lips twitching as they opened wider.

"Yeah? That it, baby? Right there? Come on, let me have it, gimme another one, you're doing so fucking good for me angel, so so fucking good, always so good" he said, his voice raspy and hoarse, almost sounding as fucked out as you felt. His bangs were stuck to his forehead and you were both panting into each others mouths, hips rolling in opposite directions, rushing towards that cliffs edge you both so desperately needed right now at god knows what time in the night it was.

He was completely in awe with you, with how you looked so effortlessly breathtaking, even in the darkness of your bedroom, the only light provided from the moon outside peeking through your thin curtains. He watched how your whole body almost glittered with perspiration, making you look even more ethereal than he originally had thought. He was so fucking gone for you, it was ridiculous. He found himself falling more and more for you in the simplest of ways. And in the filthiest of ways.

"Eddie.." you sighed, almost sounding desperate, lips parted and wet, eyes half rolling back in your head as you reached forward and clung to his bicep, nails digging in a little and leaving little half moon marks in his skin.

You could feel that ball tightening low in your gut, the rush of blood going straight to your head and the pounding of your heart in your ears. "Baby, be good for me yeah? Be good and cum for me, just once more, just one more time, please sweetheart, need to see you cum again, so bad, show me how good I make you feel, angel" he almost whined, sounding as desperate as you felt and looked right now.

It was then that you suddenly gasped, your mouth hung open in a silent scream as your head lulled back, your eyes rolling right into your skull as your hips bucked up into the air, your toes curling into the mattress and your legs stiffening, feeling that hot white heat spill over you, your orgasm washing away every last thought you had in your mind and leaving only crippling pleasure in its wake.

Eddie coaxed and praised you through it, mumbling his own pussydrunk curses as he kissed your jaw sloppily and spilled out his own release onto your thigh and his torso at the exact same time, not even caring about the clean up job he'd absolutely have to do when you were done. There was already cum and sweat and spit all over both of you and the poor new grey cotton sheets your best friend had bought you as a moving present.

"There she is, that's my good girl, so fucking beautiful when you cum for me, so fucking beautiful all the time but god.. I can't get enough of that.. wish I could bottle that and have it with me all the time" he groaned, slowing his actions down as he rolled the toy around your clit a little more, making you whimper a little higher pitched and jerk in his arms from the oversensitivity of it all, pushing at his arm to signal him to stop. He shushed you, soothing you gently as he turned the toy off and pulled it away from you, tossing it to the end of the bed. He'd deal with cleaning that later too.

He rolled your now tired limp body onto your side, pulling you against his chest, feeling the sticky warmth between you both, but neither of you caring. He kissed you sweetly, slowly, lovingly, just wanting to feel you close as he held you tight, his arms feeling like the safest warmest security blanket you'd ever had. You lazily wrapped your arms around him, small aftershocks wracking through you as you whimpered quietly against his lips. It was a wonder after being together this long that he still made you feel like the giggly shy schoolgirl you used to be when you'd first met in high school. And truth be told, he had felt the same way that whole decade ago now. He still feels that way, he's sure he'd always feel that way.

You both kiss for what seems like forever, lips meeting in sync with each other, spit connecting you when you pause for a mere breath before immediately getting back to it, making out with each other like if you didn't you'd cease to exist or crumble to nothing in each others hold.

"You always make me feel like I'm floating, Eds. Never gonna get enough, never gonna get tired of it" you whispered against his lips when you stole a quick breath, his hands roaming your sides and back. You hear him groan ever so slightly.. and suddenly you're on your back again, he's hovering over you, kissing you hungrier and needier again.

You shouldn't have opened your damn mouth.

He begins kissing his way down your jaw again, your hands finding purchase in his damp curls at the back of his head, making his way to your throat where he nips at it a little, teeth sinking into already bruised flesh where he'd sucked half a dozen hickeys into your skin already earlier this evening, making you whimper pathetically.

"Eddie.. I... I can't.." you whine, and he shakes his head.

"You can doll, I know my pretty girl can, can't you baby? You wanna be good for me right?" he mumbles almost absent mindedly, now mouthing over your collarbones as his fingertips pinch at your sensitive nipples, making you arch your back and whine way back in your throat. You do want to be good for him. Because he's always so good for you. He is good for you, in every meaning of the phrase.

You know exactly where this is going already.. you thought it was over for tonight. And you thought wrong. You don't have the will to tell your beautiful boy no when he's like this. Nor do you really have the sense to.

Eddie kisses between the valley of your breasts, down your sweat slicked stomach, his tongue peeking out to flick over each of your nipples in passing, his hands engulfing your thighs once again and spreading you open, completely indecent to the world and completely at his mercy. You don't have the energy to push him away. Not that you want to anyway.

He finally settles between your legs, kissing the small mound just above your clit as you watch him through wet eyes, your lashes already coated with the formation of tears, your chest heaving and your breath laboured again.

Brown orbs connect with your own, animalistic and hungry as his gaze flicks to your cunt and then back to your eyes, a small curse coming from him as he mutters something under his breath about how pretty you look like this for him, which makes your breath catch in your throat. He finally settles down onto his belly, ringed fingers digging in and pushing your thighs as far as they could go, your legs shaking a little as he does so. One of Eddie's favourite things in the world was this. Having you obscenely open for him, your cunt inches from his watering mouth, completely naked and unravelled. Completely you. The you only he gets to see. And only would ever get to see for the rest of your fucking life, if he has anything to say about it.

He leans down after studying your glistening folds for a moment, sticking his tongue out and licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, groaning a little too loudly as his eyes flutter closed and you watch him. You can't even muster the strength to scold him, especially not through your own strangled moan as he does so, placing small gentle kisses against your poor aching clit as he finishes his lewd slurp of you, looking up at you with his eyes almost now black.

"One more for me princess, yeah? Just gotta taste you again then I'm done, one more, promise baby. Remember, gotta be quiet yeah? Don't want them to hear us do we?" He smirked into your cunt, knowing you were both way past that at this point.

But it was never just one more. You didn't mind one fucking bit that it was never one more. Nor did you really mind the noise now.

Awkward breakfasts were so fucking worth this.

Thank you for reading my late night random filth lol. Please let me know if you enjoyed this and if you'd want more in the future. I have so many ideas for drabbles, fics, series and more.

[maybege]

How It All Started

Summary: Things between you and your roommate, Paz, escalate.

Pairing: roommate!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Free Use Arrangement AU, Roommate AU, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, (un)requited pining, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, Paz is an idiot in love (they both are), little bit of jealous Paz

Hello hello, my loves, and welcome to the start of a brand new series! This will be a drabble series with no strung-together plot but just the opportunity to dabble in this universe whenever I feel like it. We get to explore some different kinks and all the goodness and fluff of a Paz romance. If you are liking the idea of roommate!Paz paired with a Free Use AU, I can guarantee that you will absolutely fall in love with The Roommate Agreement by @bitchin-beskar. As always also a shoutout to @mostly-megan who lets me brainstorm literally months before I put anything on the page.

Without further ado, I present to you the introductory part of The Adventures of Apartment 23C. Please let me know what you think in a reblog or a comment!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

gif by @casian

Paz never saw himself as a dom.

Yeah, sure, he liked to be in charge in the bedroom and in previous relationships he’d never been shy to venture into a kinkier direction but overall, he wouldn’t call himself a dom. Hell, he didn’t even know what half of the stuff meant that some of his more adventurous friends threw around. No, for all intents and purposes, Paz would put himself in the category “normal” – whatever that was supposed to mean.

But one Thursday night, he found himself googling “free use meaning” and realized that if he were to tell Boba about what he might’ve gotten himself into, even his most experienced friend would be impressed. So, how had it come this?

It was all your fault, really. Well, kind of.

Maybe not at all.

*

You had been his roommate for a little over two years now.

Stars, he liked the way your body moved, liked the dips and the curves and your smile and how your eyes shone when you smiled and how you were such a tease because you trusted him. When he first met you, his first impression had been that you were a little … stuck-up, maybe, reserved certainly. And to be honest, you still weren’t super open and outgoing even around your friends.

But you were with him.

You flashed him your panties, called out his big dick energy (not without a nervous stutter, though, which made him grin every time), asked him for advice on dates and complained. Really, it was like any normal friendship. Only that he wanted to fuck you. And when you flashed him your panties one time too many, he was sure you wanted him to fuck you too.

Which he did.

It was more of an accident, really.

It was 3 pm on a Sunday evening, everything was nice and quiet and he was watching a football game when you came out of your room. You were wearing a little silk robe. One, that Paz feverishly tried not to gawk at and instead pretended to have his eyes on the game.

“I need your opinion on something,” you announced shyly, leaning against the doorframe, “As a man.”

Man opinion, he scoffed internally, already feeling his cock twitch because he knew you were about to show him something that would haunt him in his dreams. But he nodded anyway because he was a lovesick idiot who would do anything to just get a glimpse of your bare skin.

And so, you revealed the most delicate baby pink lingerie set made out of lace. His throat got uncomfortably dry and he couldn’t even focus on the point his team made because you were turning around, popping out your ass, posing for him and stars he wanted to feel the weight of your tits in his palms.

“What about it?” He asked gruffly, trying so hard not to sound as jealous as he was.

“Do you think Dreks will like it?” you asked and he hated how genuinely insecure you sounded.

Dreks was the ultimate asshole, of that he was sure. He’d only met the guy once when he had come to pick you up for a date (35 minutes late, which meant that Paz had seen you pacing and worrying for 35 minutes and it broke his heart) and if he’d never had to see him again it’d still be too many encounters.

Dreks was someone you had worked with briefly, a kind of department hopper in your company, someone who thought himself to be more important than he was and who, in turn, was quick to treat people who did not deserve it like absolute trash. Paz had no idea what you found so interesting about your colleague that it deserved a third date.

But before he could rein himself in, the words were already out of his mouth. “You’re not wearing that,” he said, matter-of-factly. He wanted to chide himself immediately because who was he to decide what you wore? Who was he to decide who you dated?

But there was something in your eyes and the way your shoulders relaxed that kind of gave him the impression that maybe … maybe you liked that.

“Oh?” you went quiet, your fingers toying with the thin strap of your bra and Paz allowed himself to really look at you. The lace of the bra was so delicate you might as well have worn nothing and his cock twitched when he realised he could see your nipples through the fabric. He could see so much and yet so little and his mind immediately imagined what it would feel like to run his thick fingers under the cups of the brad, teasing your nipples until you would beg him to take it off and –

“Don’t you want me to wear pretty things?”

He groaned, your sweet voice like heaven in his ears and stars did you even know what you were saying? Did you know what that did to him?

And then you took a few steps closer and his legs opened and you stepped in between and stars, you were so fucking close and he was so hard. When your knee brushed against the inside of his thigh, he could feel his cock twitch.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching out his hand and putting it on your hip, “But only for me.”

He couldn’t really remember what happened then. Only that, minutes later, you were folded underneath him, writhing as he pushed his cock inside you.

“Paz,” you sighed dreamily and he swore he fell in love with the sight of your pussy stretching around his girth, “Paz, you’re so big.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed you, “just relax for me, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, head tilted back as the sun fell over your face and he, for all intents and purposes, fucked you into the couch. He was still half dressed, his shirt thrown over the couch and his jeans barely pulled down to his hips. Your panties were still hanging on your ankles and he had not managed to get you out of that bra. Though he did not mind because you still looked like a dream come true.

You felt like a dream too, your walls hot and wet and clenching so tight around him. And then there was the way, you melted into him, you listened to him. Everything he said, you did. You were pliant and eager and so lovely and when he teased you about coming inside “that pretty little pussy”, you actually came right on his cock, overwhelmed tears streaming down your face as you begged him to “please do it, Paz, please please please”.

He came harder than ever before, his cock pumping you full and it satisfied something deep inside him to see the way his come leaked down your thighs and how you opened your mouth for him when he scooped your combined release up, dropping it onto your tongue.

The “good girl” that slipped from his tongue just felt like natural progress, then.

*

After a few (excruciating) days of not talking to you, Paz realized that as much as he had avoided you, you had avoided him. But hearing your muffled cries, there was no more time to be a coward.

“Are you okay?” he asked, feeling a little awkward standing in your doorway. But he also could not not talk to you. You were one of the most important people in his life, literally, a person he shared his life with.  

“It’s over between me and Dreks,” you sobbed while hugging a pillow to your chest, “Th-That asshole better never show his face again.”

His heart felt a little lighter, knowing that Dreks was officially out of the picture. Though a much bigger part of him was furious at the man for leaving you in such a state.

“Oh,” he shifted on his feet, “Do, uh, do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “I just feel so humiliated and – and stupid and he – I – “

Paz sat down on your bed, knowing you well enough to know that you wanted to talk about it. He sat down, his hands fishing the pillow from your grasp and pulling you into his arms. He could immediately feel you relax, your face nuzzling into his chest.

“I found something was missing in … in our relationship,” you revealed and he hummed, “And when he mentioned becoming exclusive, I asked him if he’d be willing to, uh, indulge me, he laughed at me.”

Paz could not shake the feeling that that missing piece was something rather intimate which already had him panicked thinking of how to steer the conversation in a more appropriate direction. Stars knew if he thought too long about you in any intimate setting he’d get hard as a rock.

Especially now that he knew what you felt like, that he knew what you sounded like, that he knew how pliant you were for him. But then he heard the pain in your voice, how beaten down you felt and he knew there was only one solution.

“I’m gonna beat that son of a bitch to a pulp,” he muttered and stood up. Dreks had always been on thin ice anyway but upsetting you was the last straw. That meagre man would live his last moments in fear, regretting every time he had treated you with disrespect.

“No, please,” your hands wrapped around his bicep and pulled him back down. And he let himself be pulled because it was you. And there was nothing he would not do for you. You were much closer now, still sniffling a little and he became highly aware of how you were only wearing a large t-shirt, your bare legs tangled around his.

“How dare he treat you like that?” he demanded gruffly, “Not liking something is one thing but, uh, shaming you for something you’d like? That’s just an asshole move.”

You nodded eagerly. “It is,” you agreed quietly, splaying your fingers until your fingertips brushed over his jaw, “It just went to show what I was too scared to admit to myself.”

Paz hummed, relishing in your touch. He angled himself towards you, heart skipping a beat in what suspiciously felt like …. hope. “And that is?”

“That we weren’t all that compatible all along,” you whispered, “I have, uh, I have needs and I deserve someone who, uh, who fulfils them.”

“Needs, hm?” he teased you, running his nose along your exposed throat and hearing your breath shudder did things go him, “that wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened in the living room the other night?”

“Maybe a little,” you breathed, your hand wandering up to the back of his neck and you tilted your head, offering yourself to him and stars how did he get so lucky?

“Have you, um, have you ever heard of free use?” you asked him shyly, gasping when he planted a slow kiss on your neck.

He shook his head, still nipping at your skin.

When you did not say anything more, he pulled away.

“Well, it’s, uh,” you took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze and instead looking at the far-right corner of the ceiling, “it’s something that really interests me. And … if you’re amenable, I’d like to try that. With you.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“You know, like a friends-with-benefits kind of thing?”

“Hm.”

He knew he should probably say more and he did want to assure you that he wanted to do that. With you. Hell, yes.

But for some reason, all he could do was stare and awe at your courage, at your confidence, at how you were sitting there in your lounge outfit and still looked like the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Stars, he really wanted to make you come again.

“Let me,” he cleared his throat, sitting up and spreading his legs which was not something he was aware of until he saw your eyes drift to his crotch and there it was again – that cocky continence that popped up whenever he saw you a little flustered. “Let me do some research, sweetheart, and we will talk about it some more, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled shyly, untangling yourself from him though he still followed you like a puppy when you pulled him to the kitchen, “Dinner?”

*

And that was how he found himself in front of his laptop, reading some explanatory article on free use and getting hard as a rock at the idea that you wanted that with him. But if there was one thing he knew it was that he would make you come several times a day if he only got the chance.

[jeankluv]

The guitarist (part. 2) || Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: +18, smut, oral sex (f and m), p in v, fingering, fluff, established relationship, Law being completely on his knees for reader, cute

Note: this is the second part for The Guitarist there is more smut on this one but still a fluffy shot. If you want a really smut one shots check Beg Me and Think I Need Someone Older. Now enjoy this second and last part, I don’t think I will be writing more parts for it.

Part 1 || Materialist

You haven’t seen Law since the day he dropped you at your apartment, you were busy with exams and he was busy with some internships in the hospital, so you only had time to call on the phone. You wanted to see so badly, the calls with him on the phone were only making you fall for him even more. Fortunately for you today was your last day of exams and lucky for you Law was free tonight, no internships, no band, tonight he was all yours and you couldn’t wait for it.

Before realizing you were getting out of the classroom where you took the exam.

“I just finished my last exam ✌️😚”

You tested Law right away, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

“That’s great because it means we can spend the rest of the day together.” You felt two arms embracing you from behind.

You smiled when you saw the tattoos on his arms and turned around excitedly. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to be free until later.”

“Surprise baby, I’m all yours.” He smiled and kissed your cheeks. “You look adorable when your cheeks turn red.”

“Shut up.” You said touching your face.

“C’mon.” He grabbed your hand. “I told you, you were all mine today.” You nodded and he smiled. “I can’t wait to throw that skirt you are wearing away.”

“Law…” You whispered, holding onto him. “Don’t say that, not here.” You said looking around.

He laughed and started walking with you by his side, guiding you to his car, the one that you were already familiar with.

“I got something for you. It’s in the bag under your seat.” He told you and you searched for it.

You smiled instantly when you saw what was on the bag. “Did you get me Kitkats? These are my favorites.” You excitedly screamed.

You mentioned it once while we were talking, so I guessed it would be a nice surprise.” He smiled at you.

“You didn’t have to.” You smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

He looked at you and none of you could really keep it together, so he kissed you deeply. His kisses were as good as you remembered them.

“I think… our lunch will have to wait.” He said against your lips. “I will be eating you out once I get you to my apartment.”

Your body shook with the thought of him eating you like the last time. But this time you were also going to make him feel good. He drove as fast as he could to his apartment and once you were inside, you started to kiss him. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he held your thighs and carried you to his room. You were grateful that Law lived alone and that you didn't have to worry about any roommates.

He threw you onto his bed as he took off the shirt he was wearing. You were biting your lip, you had really been lucky that a man like this had a crush on you. He started to undress you but you stopped him and made him lay on the bed, he smiled, looking at every movement you were doing. How you started rubbing your crotch against his thigh and then how your hands started going down to the zipper of his jeans. Law pushed them completely off and also got rid of his shirt, leaving him in just his boxers before you. You bit your lip, you could feel something inside you starting to grow and get hotter. You kissed him and started playing with his tongue, while you continued rubbing against him. Law couldn't stop growling against your lips and touching every inch of skin you had exposed. You broke the kiss and began to leave a path of kisses along his torso, until you reached the hem of his boxer shorts, which you took with your fingers and began to lower cautiously.

His cock sprang free, leaving it exposed to you. You smiled at him and he smiled back. You hadn't done this many times but you wanted Law to enjoy it as much as you had last night. You began to introduce his erection into your mouth, little by little, making Law go crazy at the sensation of your mouth. Once with her inside you began to bob your head up and down, while you listened to Law whine and say what a good girl you were and how well you were doing. That only increased your ego and you began to suck him even more passionately.

“Fuck…” He groaned. “If you keep sucking me so good… I will cum.”

So you kept sucking him off, until he came on your mouth. You smiled at him while watching him grab your face and kissing you, tasting himself on your lips.

“My turn to treat you right, queen.” He said and laid you down on the bed.

You were still wearing that short skirt and it was driving Law crazy. With a single blow he ripped it off and threw it away, somewhere in the room. You were fucking wet and it didn't matter that you squeezed your legs together so Law couldn't see it, because he could see it, he could see it on your face, how fucking hot and wet you were from him.

”Come on queen, let me see you.” He rested both hands on your knees. “Let me see how soaking wet you are for me.”

You spread your legs little by little, exposing your underwear. You could see Law smile as he saw how wet you were. He took off your panties and threw them on the floor and just like the night you were together, he began to make you feel wonderful, just by using his fingers. Moans were escaping your mouth and you hoped the walls were a little soundproof. He fingered you just like you remembered, so fucking good, while leaving wet kisses all over your stomach.

“Fuck Law…” You throw your head backwards. “You are so fucking good.”

“You like it?” He stopped kissing your stomach and looked at your face while introducing another finger inside of you, making you gasped at the feeling.

“So fucking much.” you said grabbing his neck and pressing him down to you, to kiss his lips once again, you could say you were addicted by now. “But… I need you inside of me.” You broke the kiss.

He nodded and took his fingers out of your soaking pussy. You saw him going to the bathroom and coming back with a condom in his hand. Fucking finally it was going to happen.

You took your shirt and bra off. “Next time I want to do it raw.” You mentioned while seeing how he was putting the condom.

“Okay my queen.” He said and kissed, making you lay back down.

He placed himself on top of you and caressed your cheek in the most tender way they had ever done before. You held onto his broad shoulders as you began to feel him enter you. It had been months since you had last been with someone like this and the feeling was overwhelming. Law began to leave small kisses on your shoulder while he penetrated you little by little, you began to tangle your fingers in his hair, while you moaned his name softly.

Once completely inside, he made sure you were okay and started moving slowly but in a way that was making you crazy with every movement he made. You could almost swear you would climax in a matter of minutes if he kept this up.

“Law…” You moaned, grabbing his hair and writhing with pleasure. “If you keep doing that… I will cum.”

“Then cum… would you?” He said biting your earlobe.

You could feel that he was close too, as his cock began to throb more and more. You cried as he sped up his thrusts, becoming rougher but still being careful and treating you like a queen.

“Yes…” You said when he hit that spot. “Fuck Law, right there please.” You moaned.

And as if your words were orders, Law continued to hit that specific spot, making your legs tremble completely and in a few seconds you were moaning with pleasure against his shoulder. Law hit a couple more thrusts before cumming. He pulled out of you and got off the bed to get rid of the condom. By the time you realized it, he was already lying next to you, cuddling with you and leaving kisses on your back.

“We should shower you know?” He whispered to your ear.

“I know.” You turned around facing him. “But I want to stay in bed with my boyfriend a little bit more.” You said hugging him and closing your eyes.

“Boyfriend huh?” He looked at you with the biggest smile.

“I mean… yeah?”

“I like that.” He said and kissed you. “But I still have to take you out on a date.”

“You said that when we met each other earlier today and looked where we ended up.” You joked.

“Honey, I just couldn’t stay one more meet without you.”

“Me neither.” You smiled.

“But sure, tonight we will have the best date ever. I promise.”

You smiled at him and let him kiss you. Who would have thought that accepting Nami's invitation to go to that club, to see groups playing live, would be the opportunity where you find that special man.

[neptunesopening]

self control

summary: your relationship with gray is falling apart right before your eyes

warnings: angst, mean! reader, arguing

gray knew your relationship was falling apart about 1 year in. you lived in a house together, but you didn’t live together. you didn’t even sleep in bed with him anymore. you didn’t even give him a goodbye kiss anymore.

slowly, smaller things became bigger. “living together” became just roommates. you just shared bills and a deed. no actual connection between you two. you even limited conversations to 3 a day.

gray felt like he didn’t even know you anymore. he knew of the person he started dating, but that was merely a figment of his imagination at this point.

every time he’d try to talk to you, you’d brush him off and say you were busy. at this point, you felt like a distant friend, maybe even an acquaintance. “hey y/n. we need to talk right now. don’t brush me off please.” he said in a small voice.

“what is it gray?” you said putting down the book with an eye roll. “this isn’t working.” he blurted and you raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean this isn’t working?” you retorted and he breathed.

“it feels like we just share a house, you barely even speak to me anymore. you don’t even do the things that felt like routine. you even rolled your eyes when i said we had to talk. listen y/n. i can’t keep feeling like just another person in your life. the person i started dating feels like a distant memory at this point. i miss the person who always tried to make me smile. the one who always tended to my needs.” he explained and you looked at him like he was an idiot.

“maybe i gave up on you because you can’t give me what i need anymore.” you shrugged and his jaw dropped. “what do you mean i can’t give you what you need?! i’ve tried for weeks and weeks to rebuild and salvage this dying relationship all by myself! and all you’ve done is ignore me! the one who can’t provide for yourself is you. you’re a narcissist.” he slammed his hands on the table.

you jumped back at the noise and you just looked at him. “you’re overreacting, gray. calm down and be an adult and talk it out without resorting to shouting.” you replied and he chuckled. “me? be an adult? i did use my words, and what did i get in return? you saying i can’t provide for you anymore. what about me? my feelings and needs don’t matter? is that it? or is everything about you? you know what. you’re immature, and i’m not doing this anymore. we’re done.”

gray got up from the table and started to pack his things and left swiftly. you were shouting and telling him he couldn’t leave because you had bills. on his way out he replied, “not my problem, i couldn’t provide for you anymore right?” he slammed the door and left.

frank inspired this one guys, making stuff based on songs is like my brand now

[yangkitties]

cat and house ✩ y.jw

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader [established relationship] || word count: 0.6k genre: fluff || warnings: not entirely proof read, my beta reader is an idiot who focuses on the wrong details (ily bae but. 😭), talks of a serious and committed relationship synopsis: jungwon was bad at gifts. but this year he had a feeling even though he was being selfish with his present, he knew you were going to love it. note: can you tell i'm bad at endings-? anyways !! my first enhypen work 🫶 AND. this is a late birthday present for @daengnyangs <3 Cass!!! We haven’t known each other for long but. every time we've talked has been wonderful and fun and full of love <3 thank you for entertaining all my insane thoughts! I hope you keep doing what makes you happy forever <3 love you! 

Jungwon wasn’t the best with gifts. No matter who it was, he always felt like he came up short. But it was your birthday this time, and he couldn’t mess it up. 

Even after dating you for a full 2 years and 4 months, giving you gifts were still as hard as ever. But this time Jungwon had a gut feeling that this might just be it.

He knew you liked to keep your birthday simple, going about it as if it was a normal day. The day was a Friday, perfect for his plan. He had your schedule memorised. 

You had work until 1:30 and you’d get off at 1:45 and go for lunch with your family until around 4 and come back to the apartment you shared with your 2 other roommates by 4:30. 

Jungwon planned it all out. He had begged and pleaded your roommates for weeks for this. And finally made them crack 9 days earlier. 

He picked up the gift an hour and a half before seeing you at your apartment, and as he arrived he knew you weren’t back yet, eyes scanning around praying he doesn’t find your shoes. 

Using the key you guys kept under the soil of the potted plant, Jungwon let himself in, setting his perfect surprise up. 

And cue exactly as he planned, the jingling of your keys alerted him to hide your gift. 

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!!’ Jungwon yelled, startling you. 

Your now wide eyes take in the sight before you, Jungwon’s dimples adorning his face, eyes sparkling as he smiled. A small banner hung above his with the words ‘happy birthday’ and a beautiful flower bouquet rested inside a vase on the coffee table. But your eyes were glued to his face, Jungwon’s radiant smile more beautiful than anything. 

A giggle escapes your mouth, running over to hug him. 

‘Thank you Wonnie,’ you whispered into his chest. ‘That’s not all, come sit.’ Jungwon places you gently on the couch before disappearing into the kitchen. 

He comes back with his arms full. It takes you a second to realise that it was a kitten, a small calico with wide eyes. 

‘You… got me a cat? Won, I love you and I love cats, but you know I’m not allowed to have pets in this apartment.’ Your heart broke as you muttered those words, wishing you could just hide away this cute fur ball with you. 

‘I. Not exactly. Y/n. I love you. I love you so much, that if I had a dollar for every time I thought about you, I’d have only 1, because you’re on my mind every single moment I breathe. I think about you when I wake up and when I go to sleep, and I wish I didn’t have to just think about you. I want to see you when I leave in the morning and when I come back from work. I want you to be the first and last person I see every single day.’ 

Your breath hitched, eyes glossing over as you waited for him to continue. His hands find yours, fingers intertwining. 

‘I found a good apartment with reasonable rent considering we both have stable jobs. I’m bad at gifts, but I think even if it’s selfish, this may just be the best gift. I hope you accept this cat and house… Y/n, will you move in with me?’ 

You squeeze his hands, tears starting to fall. ‘Oh my lovely Won… yes, yes I will.’ If it was even possible, Jungwon’s smile grew wider. His lips captured yours in a sweet kiss, a one that shows you truly how happy he was. 

‘I can’t wait to wake up with you by my side everyday my love.’ 

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