#and they all figure out how to sneak into the stacks together

[legolasghosty]

🐑 Alternate Universe- Magic, Mutual Pining, Demonic possession, Furbies

Oh dear...

Alex is attending one of the most prestigious magic academies in the country, on the orders of his parents of course. Even though Laiz Fier Academy reviles even the name of the only type of magic he's ever been good at. His parents swore he'd find another specialty here, and he'd let himself believe them, like the idiot he is. He's scraping by in classes. Barely. At least he's managed to make a couple of friends and figure out how to sneak into the library stacks to find books that will actually help him hone his skills.

However, Alex realizes now there's a reason why it's not recommended to do your first summoning alone. Because, while he does manage to summon a demon, it doesn't exactly end up in the silvery urn he'd laid in the center of the pentagram.

So now he has a talking, demonic Furby to hide. One that, despite its too-wide eyes and disconcertingly smooth voice, Alex thinks he might be developing feelings for.

(Fake fic ask game!)

[plutotheplum]

Resonance

sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!

summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3

also posted on ao3!

You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 

A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 

The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  

Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 

A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.

The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.

“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”

He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”

He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 

“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”

Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.

“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.

He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.

A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 

He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.

“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.

Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”

“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”

He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.

“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 

His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”

“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”

You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.

“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.

Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 

“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”

Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.

“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 

His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.

He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 

“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 

He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 

“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”

“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 

“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 

“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.

You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.

He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.

“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.

He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.

You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.

He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.

“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.

“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”

He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.

“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”

You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.

There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.

“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.

You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 

“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”

A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.

Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.

“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.

You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.

The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.

“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 

Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.

“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.

He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.

“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”

He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 

Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.

You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 

“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.

“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.

He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”

He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 

“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.

He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.

Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 

“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”

That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 

A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.

“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 

His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”

His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.

“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 

“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 

“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.

The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.

“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”

The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 

A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.

“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”

“I wasn’t imagining-“

“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.

His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.

You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.

“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 

It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 

You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.

“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 

“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”

You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.

“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”

You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 

“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.

He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.

“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”

His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.

“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 

“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.

“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.

It’s going to be a long night.

[longing-for-the-past-times]

masterlist roommate!simon

Roommate!Soap who leaves his shirts and hoodies scattered around the flat, patiently waiting for the day he’ll see you wearing them

At first, it's just a hoodie messily thrown on his usual seat in the kitchen and you pay it no mind, being just careful not to spill anything on it. Next is a t-shirt, strategically placed on the arm of the couch, almost as if he left it there by accident. Shaking your head and muttering something about boys and their habits, you gently fold it and place it back, unaware of the man standing in the door and watching you

"Thanks for that- must have missed it when doing laundry!"

"Aren't you military men supposed to be all neat and tidy and such?", you mock him with an amused smirk on your face. He rolls his eyes in reply, too busy trying to contain the hot blush that was threathening to spread across his face: any other person he knew would have thrown his t-shirt on the ground instead of bothering to fold it and treat it with such care.

Roommate!Soap who, after you start doing laundry together, accidentally mixes his clothes with yours, sneaking a sweater or a shirt in your pile of freshly-washed sweatshirts. He secretly wishes one day you'll fail to return them, but he's already grown used to the neatly stacked pile of his belongings that you would place on his side of the couch (you wouldn't enter his bedroom)

Roommate!Soap who starts to believe his plans are turning into a success when, one day, the black hoodie he sneaked in your laundry, is still missing from his side of the couch. Trying to ignore the giddy feeling inside his chest, he begins to think of ways to tease you about it, but he closes his mouth as quickly as he opens it, the moment you show up into the living room, promptly planting the hoodie into his arms

"I'm actually glad none of my clothes have slipped in your laundry yet", you joke with him, blind to his resigned expression. "Can't imagine how embarrased I would be if you had to deal with my nightwear!"

He wouldn't mind it, not at all.

But he ends up shrugging his shoulders and cracking a joke about what kind of nightwear you own. The black hoodie never felt heavier in his arms.

Roommate!Soap who comes home from a mission in the middle of the night and can't stop a wide smile from spreading on his face. He actually has to take a moment to process the fact that there you were, passed out on the couch, wearing his black hoodie.

Roommate!Soap who instantly takes out his phone and tries to take a selfie with your sleeping figure, his beaming figure glowing with happiness. His huffed chuckles wake you up and you hide your face in your hands when you realise he knows you're wearing his clothes.

"It's just- you left it on the couch and it got cold and-"

"No need to explain yourself, bonnie. It just took ye a while to get the message."

[alchemistc]

Part One

Oh, I've got plenty to be thankful for

I've got eyes to see with

Ears to hear with

Arms to hug with

Lips to kiss with

Someone to adore

-bing crosby

He keeps waiting for someone to say something. To accuse him of lingering where he doesn't belong, or remind him he'd never actually made it all the way in. To tell him to go home, maybe get a halfhearted promise to let him know how Buck is at some point.

Maddie lays an exhausted head on his shoulder and Bobby sneaks him a slice of pumpkin pie he's apparently been hiding in the tote at his feet. Hen tosses him a power bank with a lightning cord and Karen makes a joke about his holiday attire.

When the coffee comes, Howie takes the trip to the lobby with him, pulls out his wallet and does his damnedest to strong arm Tommy into letting him tip the haggard looking girl another twenty bucks on top of the fifty Tommy'd figured was appropriate for having to balance a literal stack of hot beverages from the parking lot on Thanksgiving. She eyes them both with a smile and Tommy is more compelled the grab the drink carriers from her tired arms than stop Howie.

They're halfway back when Howie purposely slows his pace, and Tommy fights the urge to pick his up and avoid whatever's coming down on him. "So. Was this the wake up call you needed, or can I expect Buck to order a freezer on a Black Friday deal for my garage to store more baked goods?"

He doesn't know what that means.

He can extrapolate, though. "He's been baking?"

"Tommy, I cannot stress enough exactly how much he's been baking."

He'd tried his hand at a few things here and there, but Tommy's used to experimental chef Evan Buckley, not baking Evan Buckley. To be fair, if he'd seen Evan working a KitchenAid, apron tied loose and flour on a cheekbone, Tommy doubts he'd have actually had the time to finish whatever he had planned. That was then, of course.

"What was he doing on that trail, Howie?" That, too, he could maybe extrapolate. He doesn't want to, but he could.

Howie eyes him. Uses his free arm to elbow Tommy in the ribs. "You were the first person he ever invited to a 118 Thanksgiving, you know. My guess? He wasn't in the mood to be reminded of it while there was no room in the oven to bake away his feelings."

Yeah.

Jax had been over the moon when Tommy offered to take his shift, no trades necessary. What would the point have been, when Christmas and New Year's would be unbooked too?

Evan had bribed like six different people to ensure they'd be able to swing dinner on the day. Hobbes had sounded so thrilled to hear Tommy asking for the time off that he'd approved it without even looking at the shift.

"I'm just warning you in advance. The grovelling process is gonna involve eating your weight in loaves, most likely."

And that's that, apparently. No heavy handed warnings, no suspicion about why Tommy hasn't fucked off yet. Like it's some foregone conclusion that Tommy's not gonna panic and bolt a second time. Nothing has changed, yet Tommy gets the feeling they're all expecting some tearful reunion and a return to TommyandBuck.

Tommy slips the tea into Maddie's hands and watches her sniff it in distaste, which is an interesting nugget he'll have to revisit later if -

If.

There's no guarantees, here. That Tommy will be able to articulate how fucking terrified he is, that Evan will understand it. That the two of them will find a way through it together. All he has to go on is a solo hike on a day Evan should have been with family, an apparent bakery full of feelings spread between the 118, and the quiet calm that had washed over him when Eddie prompted him to make a decision.

Feet to the fire, he'd stayed.

---

Maddie's pregnant. It hits him between the eyes right around hour three of sit-and-wait. He's not an idiot, or a fool, and he hasn't spoken to any of these people in weeks so he's not going to announce it to the world, but somewhere in between the sporadic naps on Tommy's shoulder and the way she is attempting (failing) to power through her now cold tea makes him think. She and Bobby had driven here, and it's clear everyone else had been indulging. Maddie's no lush, but he's seen her knock back half a bottle of wine before when she's got nowhere to be.

She excuses herself to the bathroom for a third time, looking a little green, and Tommy ends up locked in a staring contest with Howie that only ends when Tommy mimes zipping his lips.

He still hasn't gotten the story about Eddie and why he's not here.

Bobby and Athena are apparently closing in on a new house.

Howie is less than a year away from having a second kid.

Athena's kids are apparently at Howie and Maddie's, attempting to keep Mara and Jee from destroying the house in the absence of adults.

And Tommy wants.

Wanting has never really been the problem, though. Wanting is the easy part. Wanting doesn't get him over the hurdle of knowing he's not enough. For Evan, for this family he's built that just keeps growing bigger and bigger. It'd been a relief, those first few days after, not to have to wonder which member of the 118 would land in the hospital next, not to have to rearrange something else on his schedule because Evan was convinced he was cursed, or Eddie'd had another shitty call with Christopher.

The relief hadn't lasted. A week in, he'd stayed up all night demolishing the half-bath off his dining room, because he'd been putting it off for months and he'd nearly texted Evan something that was startlingly revealing and left him exposed on all sides. Two weeks in he'd finished grouting the backsplash in his kitchen. And in between, he wondered how Eddie was doing, if he'd made any progress with his son. He'd wondered if Maddie enjoyed the bottle of wine they'd brought back from a spur of the moment trip to Napa. He'd wondered how Nash was doing, if he was readjusting to having his crew and his station back. He wondered how Hen and Karen were, how many things Denny had already gotten stuck in his cast trying to ease an itch.

He'd wondered, and he'd sat in it, and then he'd rewired the shoddy work an electrician had done in his spare room that he kept telling himself he'd get around to.

The wanting never goes away. He just finds new places to put it when he starts to care too much.

"Kinard and Buckley?"

Maddie's still in the restroom. Tommy - has no fucking clue why the nurse is staring at them like they'll just materialize the right people. She sucks in her lips and gives him a dead eyed stare before her eyes dart to his chest. More specifically, the nameplate on his chest.

Tommy blinks.

---

The having is where he's always floundered. Things are temporary. People are temporary. He's always been borrowing. Borrowing time, attention, affection.

For a few months there, he'd really started to think he could handle the having. That he'd get to keep it.

---

"I'm Buckley, he's Kinard," Maddie says from somewhere over his left shoulder, and he turns in time to see her adjusting her jacket, wiping at her lip. She stabilizes, looking unfazed, and stands tall. As tall as she can, at least. "You have news about my brother?"

The nurse glances around the room. No one is bothering to pretend not to be listening. Maddie hovers a wave behind her.

"Ignore the audience, we're all waiting with bated breath to see how obnoxious my brothers going to be. It depends entirely on whether or not he gets pie tonight."

She gives them all a disapproving look. This must not be one of their normal nurses.

Christ. They have normal nurses.

"Well, no pie tonight, but he should be able to eat a sandwich in the morning."

He's fine. He's fine.

Tommy knew going in that most of his injuries were superficial. The ribs had been a concern but with the pain meds and the collar he hadn't really had a chance to exacerbate those injuries. There's no reason he should feel quite so relieved to know that Evan will have a few annoying splints to work around and he'll probably need to rehab his ankle for a couple weeks once it's healed. The concussion isn't ideal, and he'll need help for a few days, but he's fine.

Tommy can feel the tears building.

"He'll likely be out for a few more hours, but I'll let you know when he's set up in a room. Two visitors at a time," she warns. "The concussion will effect his response time. Don't be surprised if he doesn't remember much, loses his train of thought."

Hen shifts somewhere behind him. It feels a bit like she's being held back from correcting the nurse about the normal side effects.

Things move on around him. The nurse leaves, Hen passes a Stanley cup around that definitely isn't filled with water, the normal sigh of relief is released while Maddie drops into the seat next to him with a groan, the team has a strange competition around him to battle for visitor position.

Tommy breathes.

I should go, Tommy thinks to himself, as half the people in the room raise their phones.

His own phone vibrates against his thigh.

A message from Howie, time stamped two minutes - Tommy squints to make sure - two minutes ago, an update on Evan. Another from Eddie reminding them all to give Buck a patent Eddie look from him while they were giving him shit. A selfie of Eddie, with Christopher somewhat reluctantly bending into the picture over his shoulder.

In another thread, he's got three messages from Eddie.

If I have to remove you from this group I'm sending my kid after you with his crutches.

You guys hiked Griffith Park for your Not-A-One-Month-Anniversary-We-Swear date, right?

Send Buck my love. Not like that, though.

Tommy sends back: When the fuck did he add me to his emergency contacts? and then decides he doesn't want to know anyway so he turns off his phone.

---

Maddie goes alone, and Tommy spends the time alternating between tapping his foot against the tile to distraction, and clamping his hand over his knee in an attempt to stop the tapping.

Bobby and Athena go next, then Hen and Karen. Then they're pulling on jackets and promising to save a plate for Buck.

Howie slips away for a few minutes and then returns, looking amused. "You think everyone else got the same greeting?" he asks his wife, who grins tiredly at him, pats his wrist. Her gaze turns to Tommy.

"Should we stay?"

That's a trap of a question. That's an assumption Tommy doesn't have a clue how to handle. He clears his throat. Shakes a few curls loose.

"What makes you think he'd want me to?"

Maddie's perfected the unimpressed eyebrow. It must be a parent thing.

Tommy barely holds in the sigh. "Go enjoy your meal."

---

Evan's been watching the door. It's clear the moment Tommy makes it to the threshold - he presses up, winces, tips sideways just enough to peek around the corner.

"Tommy," he says, and his expression melts.

Tommy's heard some iteration of that name a million times. Tom, from his dad. Tommy, fond and quiet from his mother, who'd never really learned how to speak up before she was gone. Thomas, in school, from teachers annoyed that he wouldn't just apply himself.

He was Kinard, to teammates, then fellow soldiers, to the firefighters he'd worked alongside for a decade before he ever let any of them know him.

No one says his name with quite so much reverence as Evan Buckley. He's convinced himself, over the last few weeks, that he'd been hearing adulation in that tone. But now it just sounds...relieved. Happy.

Evan slumps back and tries to cross his arms in a pout. There are too many cords and wires attached to him for it to work. "I'm pretty sure I'm mad at you," he says, and Tommy steps over the threshold.

---

Hobbes sounds fucking thrilled to find out he's going to be down a pilot for five days.

Evan throws a fit when he finds out Tommy's plan is to sleep on his own couch for the short duration of Evan's stay. Evan wins the proceeding argument and doesn't even complain that Tommy hadn't argued too hard

Bobby brings over enough leftovers to keep them in turkey sandwiches for a week, and Tommy doesn't think to ask how he got Tommy's address.

Tommy breathes. Tommy thinks. Once Evan can hold a train of thought for more than five minutes, Tommy talks.

Evan listens.

---

"So no Christmas," Evan pouts, and Tommy wants to bite it. "And no New Year's."

Tommy shifts a hand over his shoulder, tucks his chin over top of it so he can't see the pout anymore. "We were both already working those anyway."

"Do people do anything to celebrate Presidents Day?"

"Evan."

"Tommy," Evan mocks, and pulls far enough away to catch his gaze. "In the interest of transparency that was mostly a cover so I didn't ask about Valentine's Day."

"Is this you not asking about Valentine's Day?"

His smile is deceptively sweet. "I need help with my sandwich."

Tommy's seen him balancing a glass of water, his phone, two books and a takeout bag in his one good hand. He's absolutely full of shit.

Tommy leans forward to grab the sandwich off Evan's plate for him.

---

"You should stay," Tommy says, an hour after midnight two days into the new year. He's tipsy on his second glass of cheap champagne and he can't think of a reason to keep this in, anymore. Evan crinkles a brow at him.

"I... wasn't planning to go?"

There's a gold crown perched in his curls, and Tommy still hasn't taken the cheap plastic 2025 glasses off. The house is quiet, and there'd been shockingly few fires started by fireworks this year, so he's less tired than he'd expected to be.

"I meant -." Tommy starts, and then pauses. "I meant permanently. You should live here."

Evan laughs. Takes a bite out of his cake, and rolls his eyes, and then...stops. His entire body stills. "What."

It's ridiculous. The very thing that had pushed Tommy up out of his seat just a few months ago, sent him out the loft door with wet eyes and a heaviness in his heart.

"Tommy," Evan prompts, and Tommy catches the hand frozen on the countertop. He'd planned to hold this back, wait until something significant or poignant. But Evan had baked them a red velvet cake and argued with him the entire drive back from dinner about the proper way to fold a towel, and Tommy's tired of denying this isn't everything he's refused to let himself want for decades.

"You don't have to say yes just to confirm you're not breaking up with me," he tries to joke, and it falls flat.

"Tommy," Evan murmurs, quieter but more insistent.

"I'm serious. I want you here. I want -."

"Yes," Evan says, and squeezes his hand before he ducks his head bashfully. "Sorry. Continue."

"I want a life with you." The tears tickle at the back of his throat. He's gonna fucking cry, again. He'd always fucking known opening himself up to this was just an invitation for more tears in his life.

He can't quite convince himself the rest doesn't make them worth it.

"Yes. Again. Tommy, of course." He tips his chin. Purses his lips. "If you're sure."

Tommy swallows down the lump in his throat. He's never been more sure or more terrified of anything in his life. So he tells him so.

The words are like knives, but he works his way through the soreness, fights up past the fear that he's not sure will ever completely go away, and claws past the reminder that it's been a blink of an eye since Tommy walked out on this.

"Well. You can't walk out of your own house," Evan points out when he's finished, and of all things, it's that that snaps the tension of for once in his life prioritizing something other than fucking survival. He tips a grin, curls his elbow to bring their entwined hands to his lips. "It's gonna take years to coordinate another Thanksgiving with everyone," he bemoans, looking suspiciously watery-eyed himself as he holds Tommy's own wet gaze.

Tommy can extrapolate from that.

[bantaro-bird]

Clearing out old posts in my project folder. I have a stack of lore doodles for my dream monster doll AU.

Picking up right where the first post left off, after Sapnap rescues Dream, he tries to tell Skeppy and BBH about him, but they don't believe him. It's just Sapnap's doll that he carries everywhere.

Not knowing where the monster went, thinking it could maybe even be invisible, BBH and Skeppy are really worried about Sapnap's safety. Until the thing turns up again and they can get rid of it properly, BBH brings Sapnap to sleep in his room.

Dream can disguise as a doll, but he's still a living creature that needs to eat, so when Sapnap bring him to bed, he has to sneak out without waking up BBH.

He wakes up Sapnap, who is not too keen on staying in bed.

Dream knows Sapnap isn't supposed to be up this late and, despite his struggling, takes him back to bed.

But Sapnap makes a lot of noise during this, which wakes up BBH and alerts him to the fact that Sapnap is missing from his bed. Skeppy was awoken by the noises too and they both go to investigate the source of it. They find Dream carrying Sapnap and immediately start trying to figure out how to rescue Sapnap. Skeppy hits him as hard as he can with a wooden baseball bat, but the bat just breaks and Dream in unphased. Before they can think of anything else, Dream just approached BBH and gently offers Sapnap to him.

He then returns to his toy form.

So Skeppy and BBH are finally putting together that the toy and the monster really are the same, and maybe the monster is Sapnap's friend after all. But it's still clearly a REALLY dangerous creature and they don't know if they can trust it.

For now, BBH declares a truce between them and Dream on the condition that Dream sleep alone in Sapnap's room tonight so they can all get some sleep and talk about this situation properly in the morning.

Dream agrees to these conditions.

In the morning, Sapnap comes running excitedly to wake Dream, who is extremely groggy and still pretty hungry.

Dream turns into his toy form so Sapnap has to carry him to the kitchen.

At breakfast, while Dream and Sapnap are really excited they don't have to keep their secret anymore, Skeppy and BBH still really don't know how to feel about all this.

The only drawing I have concerning the family meeting is this one about Dream's lack of table manners.

And then I have one last drawing where Dream learns about Sapnap's fire powers for the first time. It was from a later segment where BBH gives Sapnap some trash and tells him to take care of it. Dream follows Sapnap into this mysterious metal shed where the walls and floor are covered in soot. Dream is extremely uneasy. He thinks Sapnap is going to be irresponsibly playing with fire so he keeps trying to stop him. In the process Sapnap accidentally gets a papercut, and then deals with it by summoning a flame to cauterize the wound. Dream is eventually properly informed that Sapnap is a fireborn and that BBH and Skeppy regularly give him burnables to take to the shed to practice controlling his powers.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I think is kind of interesting is that both Leo & Raph’s actions towards the start of the movie could arguably possibly be a response to everything that happened with the Shredder towards the end of season 2.

Raph: My Tonfa’s!

In the episode Shreddy or Not, the Shredder overwhelms the Hamato Clan & the Turtles end up loosing Karai & having to leave Draxum & Splinter behind in order to escape which ends up putting a pressure on Raph to now figure out how to defeat the Shredder & protect his family.

Raph: Why can’t I do this? I’m failing you

Throughout the episode Anataway Hitorijanai Raph, is stressed at the thought of fighting the Shredder again & admits that he thinks he’s failing his family when he doesn’t know how to protect them. However even after the Shredder is defeated the fear that he won’t be able to protect his family & that they’ll face an enemy that will outmatch them again is one that Raph still has.

Raph: Stop distracting Raph! We were supposed to be training--

Which is possibly why Raph is so insistent about training towards the start of the movie, Raph might be scared that another threat that they are unprepared for like the Shredder might come along again & that he and his family will be outmatched again.

Leo: And do I need to remind you who has four shells and defeated the Shredder?

Raph: [Growls]

Leo: H-hey!

Another possible example of how Raph is still effected by the events with the Shredder towards the start of the movie is that Raph kind of only gets confrontational with Leo when the Shredder is mentioned, before Raph sort of sounds more exasperated than angry but after the Shredder is mentioned Raph kind of gets noticeably upset & even goes as far as to knock the pizza out of Leo’s hand.

Raph: The Foot Clan?

Another piece of evidence that kind of show that Raph is still trying to deal with what happened with the Shredder is the look of fear that appears on his face when the Foot Clan show up as the Foot Clan are linked to everything that happened with the Shredder.

It has only been a few months since the Hamato Clan’s final battle with the Shredder & Raph is kind of desperately trying to make sure that his family never have to go through what they did with the Shredder again which might be why he was pushing for Leo to take training & heroics more seriously.

Splinter: Oh and Blue, you are the leader now

Leo: Wait!? What!?

In contrast to Raph who wants to prepare for the next threat or the next challenge or the next enemy so that the family will be ready, Leo could possibly be desperately holding onto the way things used to be.

Leo: The whole world is counting on you... to break the pizza box stack record! One-hundred, twenty-five boxes! You know they say it couldn’t be done, but look who’s doing it

When we see the present version of Leo at the beginning of the movie, he’s trying to break the pizza box stack record & it is that kind of activity that the Turtles used to do all the time.

In the very first episode of Rise we see the Turtles sneak onto a roof in order to jump into a pool, which are the kind of activities that Leo & his brothers used to do together before they suddenly had to deal with threats like Draxum, Big Mama & the Foot Clan. The fact that there is even a pizza box stack record for Leo to try to break also shows that balancing pizza boxes on their heads is something that Leo & his brothers used to do together only now Leo is being told that it is a waste of time.

Something that I think might be kind of important is the fact that it isn’t simply Leo being placed into the leadership possession that Leo has to deal with but rather Leo has to deal with multiple other aspects of his life changing in between the events of the end of season 2 & the start of the movie as well; as the Shredder had destroyed the Turtle’s old lair & they had to find a new one.

In the movie the Hamato Clan are still moving into the new lair which is why moving boxes can be seen throughout the new lair, considering that moving can be difficult for a lot of people normally the fact that Leo’s childhood home was destroyed in such a way that it would be hard to even visit it again might have possibly made moving even harder for Leo.

Donnie: I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up, he’s crushing us!

Leo: Really? ‘Cause I thought my overall ninjocity was totally working

Raph: So what if I say he- that word a lot. It’s a good word. We need to be that word.

Leo: Relax Raph. We’ve got this hero thing wired. I mean, our ninjocity is off the charts

Not only is Leo dealing with suddenly being placed in a new position in his family as a leader but Leo also kind of literally lost a piece of his childhood with loosing the old lair, in the events between the end of season 2 & the start of the movie Leo’s life has been full of changes & it is arguably stressing him out as seen when Leo uses the word ‘ninjocity’ towards the start of the movie which is usually a word Leo only really uses in stressful situations such as in the episode Many Unhappy Returns when the Hamato Clan was facing the Shredder for the first time.

With so much in Leo’s life changing it could be possible that Leo is trying to make things go back to the way things used to be by doing the things that he & his brothers used to do & trying to act like nothing has changed.

Leo: Relax. We’ll do what we always do. Ninja in, ninja their faces, ninja out.

Even in the original plan to rescue Raph, Leo uses the phrase ‘we’ll do what we always do’, for a lot of the movie there’s a part of Leo that wants to act like nothing has changed.

It could be possible that a lot of the reason for Leo & Raph clashing at the beginning of the movie is because Raph is desperately trying to prepare for the future, while Leo is desperately trying to hold on to the past. 

[midnightsummer-glow]

High Stakes and Heartbeats

Mammon x reader

The night air in the Devildom was heavy with mischief, as usual. As you lay in your room at the House of Lamentation, flipping through some textbooks half-heartedly, your D.D.D. suddenly buzzed, the screen lighting up with Mammon’s name.

You sighed with a soft smile, already suspecting that whatever Mammon was about to suggest, it was going to be nothing but trouble. After all, you had been at the House of Lamentation long enough to know that if Mammon called you this late, he was probably up to something. And that something was probably not a good idea.

Before you could even hit the answer button, your door burst open, and in strode Mammon—The Great Mammon himself—with that characteristic cocky grin on his face.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Guess what?” he said, rubbing his hands together like he was cooking up something big. His golden eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Mammon, you’re supposed to knock, remember?” you reminded him, rolling your eyes but not actually annoyed.

“Ah, don’t sweat the details,” he waved you off, before hopping onto the edge of your bed. “Listen, I’ve got somethin’ way more excitin’ planned tonight. Forget about studyin’. I got word that Gold Casino is openin’ up tonight with some big-time prizes, and yours truly plans to clean ‘em out. I’m tellin’ ya, I’m gonna make a fortune!”

You arched an eyebrow at him, sensing where this was heading. “You want me to come with you?”

“‘Course I do!” Mammon nodded eagerly, a gleam in his eye. “What’s the point of winning a ton of Grimm if I don’t got someone there to celebrate with me? C’mon, (Y/N), it’ll be fun! We sneak out, hit the tables, and make a night of it! I’ll even split the winnings with ya. Whaddya say?”

You glanced down at your books and then back at Mammon’s hopeful face. A part of you knew that going with him was risky. Lucifer had been keeping an eye on Mammon lately, making sure he wasn’t getting into trouble—again. But Mammon had a way of pulling you into his schemes, even when you tried to resist. Besides, a small part of you was curious. How bad could it really be?

Sighing, you gave in. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

Mammon let out a triumphant cheer, pumping his fist in the air. “That’s the spirit, (Y/N)! Ya won’t regret this. The Great Mammon’s gonna win big tonight, you’ll see.”

Sneaking out of the House of Lamentation wasn’t exactly difficult, but the thrill of it still made your heart race. The two of you slipped past Cerberus and into the dark streets of the Devildom, making your way toward the infamous Gold Casino. The building loomed ahead, its neon lights flickering in the night, a beacon for gamblers and demons alike.

Mammon’s eyes gleamed as you approached the entrance, his excitement contagious. “This is it, (Y/N)! We’re gonna be rich tonight!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Just don’t bet more than you can afford to lose, alright?”

Mammon scoffed. “Pfft, as if I’d ever lose! I’m the Avatar of Greed, remember? The money’s practically beggin’ to come to me.”

Once inside, the casino was buzzing with energy. Demons of all kinds were seated at tables, their eyes fixed on the cards, dice, and wheels of fortune. Gold chips clinked together as they were exchanged, and the low murmur of voices filled the air, punctuated by occasional cheers or groans.

Mammon wasted no time, leading you straight to one of the high-stakes tables. He grinned at you, already pulling out a stack of Grimm to buy in. You watched as the game unfolded—Mammon’s confidence was palpable, and at first, he was doing well. Really well.

“See?” he whispered to you between rounds, flashing a smug grin. “I told ya I was good at this.”

But, as the night wore on, things started to shift. A new demon joined the game—a tall, shadowy figure with piercing red eyes. The moment they sat down, the atmosphere at the table changed. Mammon’s winning streak hit a wall, and his pile of Grimm began to shrink.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Mammon said, though his voice lacked the confidence it had earlier. “This guy’s just gettin’ lucky. I got this.”

But as the next round played out, Mammon’s luck didn’t turn around. In fact, it got worse. The demon across from him played with a smug, calm expression, raking in the Grimm while Mammon grew more and more frustrated.

“(Y/N)… things aren’t lookin’ too good right now, but it’s all part of the plan!” Mammon muttered under his breath, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

You frowned, leaning closer. “Mammon, maybe you should call it a night. You’ve already lost a lot.”

“No way!” he hissed back, his pride getting in the way. “I can win it all back, just one more round!”

The demon across the table raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by Mammon’s desperation. “Care to raise the stakes?” he asked in a smooth, menacing tone.

Mammon gulped but nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it. I’m not afraid.”

But then the cards were dealt, and it became clear—Mammon had made a mistake. A big one.

The final round ended with Mammon’s stack of Grimm completely gone. The demon grinned wickedly, leaning back in his chair. “Looks like you’re out of money, Avatar of Greed.”

Mammon stared at the empty table in front of him, his mouth hanging open. “I… I can pay! I just—just need some time, ya know?”

The demon chuckled darkly. “I don’t like waiting. You should have thought of that before betting more than you had.”

Before you could react, the demon’s eyes flickered toward you, a sinister grin spreading across his face. “But maybe… you have something else to offer as collateral.”

Your blood ran cold as the demon’s gaze locked onto you. He stood and snapped his fingers, and in an instant, shadowy tendrils wrapped around you, pulling you out of your chair and pinning you in place.

“(Y/N)!” Mammon cried, lunging forward, but the demon held up a hand.

“Ah, ah,” the demon said smoothly. “You lost, Mammon. You don’t get to make demands anymore. Unless, of course, you can pay up right now… I’ll just take this human as collateral.”

Panic surged through you as the tendrils tightened around your arms, immobilizing you. Mammon’s face went pale, his eyes wide with horror.

“N-No! You can’t take (Y/N)!” Mammon shouted, desperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’ll get the money, just give me more time!”

The demon tilted his head, clearly enjoying Mammon’s distress. “You had your chance. If you want to see them again, you’d better come up with something quick.”

With that, the demon vanished into the shadows, taking you with him. The last thing you saw before the world went dark was Mammon’s terrified expression.

When you came to, you were in a dimly lit room, the cold stone beneath you sending a chill up your spine. The shadows that had held you in place were gone, but you were still trapped, unable to see a way out.

“Mammon…” you whispered, fear tightening your chest. Would he be able to find you? What if he couldn’t?

Time passed, though you had no way of knowing how long. All you could do was wait, your heart pounding in your chest, until finally, you heard voices outside the door.

“Mammon, you absolute idiot! I cannot believe you dragged (Y/N) into this!” a familiar voice growled, filled with fury.

Lucifer.

The door burst open, and there stood Mammon, looking frantic and disheveled, with Lucifer right behind him, his expression a mix of anger and concern.

“(Y/N)!” Mammon rushed to your side, dropping to his knees beside you. “I’m so sorry! I’m gonna get ya out of here, I promise.”

Lucifer stepped forward, casting a cold glare at the demon who had taken you hostage. “Release them. Now. Or you’ll have more than just Mammon to deal with.”

The demon, who had been lounging in the corner of the room, stood up slowly, clearly unnerved by Lucifer’s presence. “I was only collecting on a debt,” he said, though his voice wavered.

“You can collect on the debt without involving (Y/N),” Lucifer snapped, his eyes glowing with deadly intent. “Let them go, or I’ll ensure you regret it.”

The demon hesitated for a moment, before waving his hand dismissively. The shadows that had held you in place dissolved, and you stumbled forward into Mammon’s arms. He held you tight, not letting go for a second.

“(Y/N)…” Mammon whispered, his voice shaking. “I’m sorry. I shoulda never brought ya into this.”

You could feel the guilt radiating from him, and despite everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him.

[aingeal98]

Batfam siblings ranked on how good they'd be at babysitting their younger siblings

Duke. He only has one younger sibling so he has it easy but the younger sibling is Damian so. It's very likely they'd end the night in the middle of an impromptu mission on the other side of the world which would give Bruce a heart attack BUT they'd be working together and not fighting about it so he tops the list.

Dick. Dick has the most stacked against him because he has five whole younger siblings who he has to be a good babysitter to, so the fact that he's second is a testament to his skills. He'd probably be less likely to steal the batplane for continent hopping shenanigans than Duke but he gets second place because I can't see him being in charge of teenage Jason or Cass without something going wrong and him likely getting punched. Sorry Dick your little siblings are menaces.

Damian. We have no real proof but if they add baby Helena Wayne to the family you cannot convince me that he wouldn't be the best big brother to her. He'd tell her bedtime stories that Talia told him and become Helena's favourite. I know this in my heart.

Tim. I don't think Tim would have a problem with Duke unless there was something dangerous he wanted to do but either way there is no universe where Duke or Damian respect Tim as an authority figure who gets to tell them what and what not to do so sorry Tim. You can't qualify as a good babysitter if they just ignore you and run away to do what they want.

Cass. Cass would keep her younger siblings safe but she would also go along with every single risky idea they have. The others above her would at least try not to enable them but Cass would be even worse than Duke about ending up in random countries on impromptu missions. If any of them are in the mood to fight a god she'd be like "Yeah sure sounds fun." They'd survive without a scratch on them but I still can't put her higher than this because "It worked out fine." isn't going to fly with Bruce when explaining why babysitting turned into child endangerment (He's not really one to talk but he will anyway). Tim and Cass had fun fake killing each other, Cass and Duke had fun sneaking off to meet Shiva, and Damian and Cass had fun blowing up the batboat. So maybe that's all that matters. (Also she loses points with Jason even though he's only like six months younger than her. Still counts and knocking him out so he can't cause problems isn't good babysitting praxis, sorry Cass)

Jason. Self explanatory. Not only does he lose points for shooting Damian and attacking Tim but I can't see either of them or Duke respecting him as an authority figure. Robin Jason would be a great babysitter though so at least he has that.

[ezraholmes]

pirate!schlatt x crew!nurse!reader

prologue

welcome to the beginning of whatever this turns out to be!! I have plans, weather I complete them only time will tell.

this part is a bit of background, its set when both characters are younger, around 14 in my head.

word count: 639

cw: mention of injury, twink schlatt ig?

You are obliged to let me know if you find mistakes :)

“Mind yer head” a voice called from atop a stack of barrels, you ducked as a mast swung round, narrowly missing you. The hubbub of the dock surrounded you, nose filled with the salty smell of the ocean and the sweet yet pungent smell of rum waiting to be loaded onto the awaiting ships. The hustle and bustle of the people going about their business in contrast with the seemingly quiet expanse of the ramshackle housing the island offered, the early morning sun just starting to cast its rays upon the rooftops.  Carefully navigating the gangplanks and boardwalks you made it over to where a young boy was perched, legs dangling above the golden cast water, light brown hair cut short to avoid distractions, swooped to one side with copious amounts of macassar oil, brown eyes glinting in the light as he gazed out at the ever lapping waves. You joined him, carefully positioning yourself to avoid falling into the salty abyss below. He turned, giving you a once over with his eyes, acknowledging the tight corset that hugged your figure tighter than you would like and the voluminous skirt that your housemaids helped you put on before you left this morning. He gave you a friendly nod and turned back to the ocean, clearly troubled by something outside the usual. ‘Jay?’ the tone in your voice made it clear to him that you read right through him. He was your only friend on this lonely island and you his. Jonathan Schlatt, the boy who came investigating the new addition to the village, found you sitting on the side as all your belongings were unloaded off of your father's ship, watching quietly as they dropped your heavy boxes and scrambled your book collections. He sat by you, he showed you around the village, he taught you the basics of sword combat, he showed you excitedly when his father allowed him his first pistol, he was your friend, you could tell when something was up. ‘My father is setting sail again.’ Captain Schlatt, a formidable pirate forced into retirement by a horrific injury, now boasts a nasty scar across his face and a wooden leg. Your face clearly showed how surprised you were as Jonathan expanded further. ‘He spoke to your father and he thinks my dads recovered enough to be considered ocean-worthy. He took the news and immediately gathered together a crew, we set sail this afternoon.’ you took a second to process what he said then turned to face him, ‘we? You're leaving?’ he didn't want to have to tell you, he didn't want to say goodbye. He nodded sadly, avoiding eye contact and focusing instead on the bit of driftwood that floated beneath the makeshift pier. You would rather go with him than try to survive the pirate town without your friend, risking the perils of the sea instead of countless days spent alone. Just the thought of life continuing without Jonathan was enough to set your mind. ‘I'm coming with you, I will sneak on board once we are far enough away that they're not gonna bother taking me back, I'm learning medicine. I could be helpful.’ the string of words left your mouth so quickly you were surprised your friend even managed to keep up. He wanted it to work, you wanted it to work. Maybe the determination of a child is all you need to make it work.

That may be what led to a few hours later being concealed within a barrel beneath the deck, surrounded by the few items you could fit with you in your tight spot. You could hear the commotion up on deck as the crew worked to depart the docks, the occasional yell of goodbye of family being left behind. Now you suppose you wait to be found.

Ty for reading the prologue, I hope yall are just as excited as I am!!!!! Please reblog anf leave comments letting me know your thoughts so I can gage more opinions on my work and the story so far!!!

[alwaysinstyle]

A Long-Overdue RANT Girlies Appreciation Post

Tonight feels like the perfect night to tell you how much I love you all, and I apologize in advance for the length of this post.

~ Nina ~

My precious Pastel Woods outfit hype-woman who’s always ready to Style Carry™️ me onto the battle field, deceive the enemies with her iconic mermaid hair extensions and then KICK SOME ASS for the both of us. Darling, if your Pinterest board is any indication, you have me absolutely figured out and it is both hilarious and iconic. You are for real my Kenny-coded friend’s evil twin and I know without a doubt that you two would go full GTA mode on the NPC bad drivers to bring me an iced coffee (from ANYWHERE but the Bad Vibes Café). Speaking of which, I hoping you’re treating yourself to an iced chai, because you deserve it, you gorgeous and talented REAL author who I adore. Thanks for climbing up on stilts to give me a kiss on the cheek whenever I’m feeling down. Your constant kind words mean so much to me and yes, you did make me cry actual tears when you called me your IRL Superhero. Your dear Wal-Mart Taylor Swift sends all the love in the world.

~ Teri ~

Scary Teri, my favorite Ten Ferrets Stacked in a Trench Coat, my fellow road rage gal who loves screaming in the car as much as I do. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate you for biting the bullet and being the Cartman friend with whom I can make THE darkest jokes and tell THE darkest stories (and, of course, exchange graphic jump-scare surgery pics) without scaring you away. At the end of it all, you still tell me I’m vibrant and resilient, and that warms my heart more than I can express. Thank you for allaying my fears of becoming a Cynical Asshole (formal diagnosis as you all know). Thank you for making me feel strong when I feel weak. I look forward to many, many more unhinged conversations and overly analytic beta reads of your spectacular fics. I do, in fact, still expect to receive a package containing the buckets of tears I have harvested through Hourglass.

~ Riley ~

My dearest WARRIOR, sword-wielding protector Riley, co-sponsor of the Style Carry™️ who makes me spontaneously combust with everything she writes. We come together to form one joint Whump Deity as the Queen of Injury Fics and the Queen of Sickfics, and I love that everyone on ao3 GENUINELY lumps us together as one being. I don’t blame them since we really do be sharing one brain cell. It kicks ass being each other’s target audience because even with our most self-indulgent shit, mark my worms, the other WILL be absolutely blended. Whenever I’m feeling down, you’re ALWAYS locked and loaded with lizard pics and not to mention graphic illness and injury for my viewing pleasure. Your fics, bedtime stories and sneak peeks that are ALWAYS tacitly solicited bring me such an incredible amount of joy. I mean it. It was the sweet siren call of OJV that brought me to Tumblr in the first place. I am so glad to have come to the dark side and to have become a RANT girly, and I owe that all to you. You are the heart of RANT, dear. Without you we’re just ANT, and ants aren’t even that cool. Thank you so very much for being the ultimate hype gal, for being THE world’s best commenter, for reminding me to take care of Ye Olde Flesh Prison when I’m being terrible about it, and for worrying about me when I’m too stubborn to worry about myself. Your support means the world to me, my dude. Our chats and headcanon dumps have actually been the grounding force keeping me sane (ironically, since we’re so insane about Style). Keep kicking ass and avoiding creepy pizza men, okay? I love you so much and I love being NOT normal together.

@1moreoffkeyanthem @asteria7fics @boxwinebaddie

All three of you, and everyone else on this crazy website who makes me smile, THANK YOU.

[agustsvga]

the artist, the muse — j. satur x f!reader

pairing | jeff satur x f!reader

synopsis | jeff satur, and everything this guy is, amazing and absolutely *chef kiss*

author's note | fluff, language, social media au + excuse for any errors or mistakes. feel free to reblog, like, and request for anything xx

JEFF’S POV

The music store had been his frequent location to visit whenever he walked down the road that led to it.

Jeff had been walking the whole day, admiring the beauty Monte-Carlo had to offer, and being thankful of every moment and passing day spent there. He had breakfast with a view of the oceanside, walked down the streets with vendors selling fresh fruits and blooming flowers, had lunch in a nice and quiet restaurant recommended by Bible, which he would come back to tomorrow, and now here he was—inside his favorite music store that had all the artists he loved.

Jeff scanned the store, briefly thinking where to go first, before his feet was taking him to the left side of the store where it’s less crowded. Now, standing by a large shelf, his fingers tapped against the wood before he tipped one of the albums and scanning its price and title before tucking them under his arm before exploring more.

His eyes stopped at a bold lettering on a white and blue banner on a large white shelf. Jeff Satur: Exclusivités, sorties récentes, et faces B. (Exclusives, recent releases and B-sides.)

He eyed a group of friends crowding one of the shelves dedicated to his music, each one taking two or three albums for themselves, searching on their phones for the artist, and he smiled to himself seeing them walking together to the cashier and stacking his albums on the counter including a vinyl of his acoustics and magazines of him modelling on the front cover.

Jeff walked down the aisle to see his works for himself, and couldn’t help but feel proud and happy of himself. Deciding to share the good news with his friend, he fishes out his phone from his pocket and takes a picture of shelf with the background of the store’s window and the oceanside view. Furthering the camera’s view, he stopped to see a figure by the end of the shelf gently bopping her head which was wearing a pair of headphones.

Putting away his phone, he puts it away and walks to the person, whom clearly won’t take notice of his presence unless he makes himself known first, and sneaks a look to what the person was listening to.

Jeff Satur – Je veux être à toi (I wanna be yours)

A song he covered during his early years into the industry, and it’s still being listened to. To such a beauty, at that, Jeff thought to himself.

She was still immersed listening, but he just had to get her attention. He wanted to. Lifting a hand, he gently tapped her shoulder and she shuddered, turning her head to look at him in the face, then quickly sets down the headphones back to its place that was hooked onto the shelf.

“Excusez-moi de vous interrompre, mais je ne peux m’empêcher de voir que vous écoutez une de mes musiques.” (Excuse me for interrupting you, but I can’t help but see that you are listening to one of my songs.)

YOUR POV

He’s…the artist!

Feeling your blood rushing to your face, you avoided his gaze which was full of hope and intensity you couldn’t put to words.

“Oh, mon Dieu! Vous... vous êtes... vous êtes Jeff Satur! En chair et en os!” (Oh my God! You... you are... you are Jeff Satur! In the flesh!)

He covered a laugh by lifting a hand to cover his mouth, but you admired how his eyes crinkled and how he also flushed at the comment.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s actually me. You don’t mind if we speak just like this? Or do you want to switch it back to French?”

Shaking your head, you smiled at the musician whom scratching his neck, believing he’d attract attention seeing as your reaction raised a few heads from inside the store, “We can speak just like this. It’s fine.”

He exhaled and turned to see the small screen that’s been playing the song you were listening. “I completely forgot I covered this song. It’s just so long ago I just…didn’t look back to the things I did that got me here.”

“You sounded so lovely I just had to stop and give it a chance. Best decision ever, if I’d say so myself.” Then, as if a lightbulb had turned on atop your head, you reminded yourself of the album you’d put inside the basket left on a nearby table that contained other items you wished to buy.

“I’ve been looking for this one everywhere and I’m so grateful this one was available. I listen to you online all the time and this was just the perfect gift for myself for discovering such an artist that could capture such feeling into a song,”

Jeff Satur - Pourquoi ne restes-tu pas (Why Don’t You Stay)

“It’s so intimate and beautiful. You did a wonderful job with this, as does with others that you wrote but this one truly stands out for people like me.”

“How is that?”

“People come and go in my life, and I haven’t got the time to heal it all because it passes so quickly. Then, I come here to see if, by any chance, I’ll get something for staying strong through it all. I discovered you and everything just fit so well and so, so perfect,”

“Curiosity got the best of me when this was released and…I think I cried listening to it and then I left a comment online saying I wished so bad to hear it on a live performance. But meeting you here is more than what I could have asked.”

Jeff’s face flushed and, once again, he smiled and crinkled his eyes.

“You’re too generous with your words…If you don’t mind, I can sign it for you?”

By the looks of how his smile turned even wider, you could guess it in his expression how your eyes lit up in response to the offer, and you gave him the copy as he took out a marker that complimented the color of the album cover art. Very carefully, he wrote a message too long for you to read at the backward angle where it’s facing him, so you gave up doing so and let him finish signing.

“Here. And I just have to say, no one’s been so kind to me as you did. Your words really…moved me. Thank you…”

“(Y/N).”

He says your name again, and it felt euphoric hearing them pouring out his mouth, like they were meant to be.

“I’ll see you around?” You asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s a small world and place, but I’ll look for you!”

You turn around and grabbed your things to the cashier, and before leaving the store with the items bought and packed, your turn around one last time to see Jeff was still watching you as he leaned against the shelf.

He raised a hand and waved, and you waved back, your heart racing a million miles as every step that took you home wished you would run again into him.

---

ONE YEAR LATER

“I want us to be official—let the whole world know about us,”

You sighed, just as you were waking up hearing his soft snores against your ears as Jeff’s arms wrapped around your body, his raspy morning voice sent a shiver through you, like cold water washing over your body but it felt heavenly and could put you back to a slumber.

“What do you say, sweet thing?” He kissed behind your ear and cuddled his body closer to you, perhaps what’s left of closer was trying to curl you into his body as much as he could as an excuse to not let you get up and leave him alone in the shared bed.

“How are you planning to do that?”

“I wrote a song about you last night.”

That was very unexpected. It made you turn your whole body to face him, laying on the bed and his eyes still closed but fully awake.

“Why if I may ask you?”

“Just because. Last night was more than amazing and…I just want to tell you in more than the ways that I’ve told you before that I love you.”

He pursed his lips, rubbing his eyes and now fully opening them.

“You’re very lovely and I’m glad to be the one to get you all for myself.”

Jeff had always been good with his words and never fails to bring you down to your knees, falling head over heels for him more and more everyday.

“Morning kiss?”

“Yes, morning kiss, please,” His forefinger tapped against his lips as it motioned for the said kiss.

---

822,671 likes

jeffsatur getaway with lover

nnattawin been looking for you everywhere 🧐!

buildurlurve cute and romantic, traditional jeff

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Liked by milephakphum, biblesumett and 21,058 others

yourinstagram fill my heart with song and hear you sing forevermore...

milephakphum beautiful place for a beautiful couple

biblesumett hard launching boyfriend 💋 hard launching girlfriend

nnattawin can't believe you left me behind 😒

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804,102 likes

jeffsatur to make up the lost times, “curious” out tomorrow 11 pst.

tagged; kamikaze, warnermusic

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Liked by nnattawin, jeffsatur, and 60,032 others

yourinstagram moods of jeff during the release of “curious”

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[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Heritage

@wonderlandwondering here is the ficlet inspired by your prompt! Thank you!

Lan Qiren hadn't expected Wei Wuxian to be the first person visiting him so early in the morning - but then again, he's given up trying to make sense of the man long ago, so he receives him without further comment. He looks a lot more like himself now, and a lot less like Mo Xuanyu - which makes him, in turn, more similar to his mother.

Lan Qiren doesn't like thinking about her.

"Teacher Lan, I have a request for you." Wei Wuxian begins, and Lan Qiren is once again surprised by the serious tone in Wei Wuxian's voice.

"What is it?"

"Do you have any of my mother's belongings? Even just homework or essays she's written..."

Lan Qiren closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. "What brought this on?"

"I've been... thinking about her recently..." His hands wring together slightly in his lap. "Lan Zhan and I want to adopt a little one to raise together and that's been making me think a lot about my parents... I don't even know my mother's actual name..."

Lan Qiren closes the notebook he has been writing in, and places his brush down before standing up to go to the furthest side of his office, opening a drawer.

"Your mother's name was Ren Xinyi." He takes out a thick stack of papers and returns to hand them to Wei Wuxian. He gazes upon them, upon his mother's delicate, elegant calligraphy, and skims through what appears to be an exam paper. Her writing is articulate and her points are well-argued, betraying a vast knowledge of cultivation practices.

Reading her paper feels a lot like her speaking to him across time and space and death. His hands tremble holding the papers.

"You used to be a lot like her. You are a lot like her."

"No wonder you never liked me." Wei Wuxian chuckles, with a slight edge of bitterness. Lan Qiren refuses to acknowledge how unfair he has been to do that - openly, at least. Though he cannot lie to others, the rules do not forbid him lying to himself.

"Your mother was a very bright student and a powerful cultivator. She was highly sought after, but her affections had clearly fallen on your father from the first day they met." A lot like you and Wangji, he doesn't say, but Wei Wuxian hears it anyway.

"She wrote the rules twice as much as you did, I personally saw to that. She would talk a lot, so I'd try to silence her, but she figured out a way to break the spell..." an embarrassed sigh, "...and would cast it on me instead."

Wei Wuxian laughs again, the image in his mind hilarious. While he can picture his mom as a young person somewhat, he can't imagine Lan Qiren young, and so his mind conjures the current Lan Qiren struggling to break the silencing spell, scandalized and frustrated.

"She also traded pornography in the Cloud Recesses. This is how she and your father met, actually. I personally caught him purchasing a picture book from her, an original work of all things!"

Wei Wuxian finds this both amusing and embarrassing. To think of his parents reading such things...! But then again, at least he knows who he got it from!

"She brought a duck to the Cloud Recesses once and tied a forehead ribbon around it. Called it Lan Quackren. All because she believed me unfair for punishing her for sneaking off with your father in the library."

Like you and Wangji do, he again doesn't say, but Wei Wuxian knows that's what he meant.

Wei Wuxian looks through the papers, and his eyes catch onto - "A portrait?"

Lan Qiren sighs, this time neither embarrassed, nor angry. Rather, it's more akin to sorrowful.

"Your mother could befriend anybody, no matter how closed off they were. I don't know how, but she also befriended Madam Lan. One day, when your mother and your father decided to leave the Cloud Recesses, Madam Lan had me bring her this portrait as a gift. She left before I could catch her, so I kept the portrait to give her if she ever returned. This is what your mother looked like."

Wei Wuxian takes in the details of the picture with tearful eyes. A woman smiles sweetly at him, long, dark hair cascading down her back and shoulders, a small headpiece holding some of it away from her youthful face.

She has simple robes on, and eyes that look just like Wei Wuxian's own, so kind as she smiles that it's unmistakable it's her. Wei Wuxian faintly remembers that, the warmth in her eyes when she would look at him.

His eyes catch onto some faint writing that appears on the back of the portrait and turns the paper around.

Please receive this gift to immortalize the day you found out you'll be bringing a little one into the world. I wish you an easy pregnancy and a healthy baby!

Wei Wuxian bursts into tears before he can stop it.

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Tail Between My Legs (ii) 

Pairing: Curtis Everett x F!Reader

Summary: After growing up in the front section, you meet a man from the tail section when he sneaks into your room to hide from the guards after him. He defies all your preconceptions. And yet, the heart wants what it wants. In this case, it wants Curtis Everett.  

Warnings: SMUT, breast worship, oral (f receiving), fingering, deep unprotected sex, creampie, some impreg if you squint.

When you wake up the sun is shining through the open window, blinding you as you turn away from the beams of light. As soon as you flip over you realize that Curtis is not in bed beside you. Sitting up quickly, you rush down the ladder in a state of panic. As soon as you step onto the ground you see him reclined in the leather chair that he had occupied the night before, watching you peacefully. 

“Did I scare you?” He asked, leaning forward. 

“Quite frankly. Yes.” You fold your arms over your chest. “I was afraid someone had carried you off in the middle of the night.” 

“Can’t get rid of me that easy.” He says, eyes finding his feet. By this point he’s already covered back up, having gotten dressed while you were asleep. You hate to admit that you wish you had gotten a chance to see his muscled flesh in the glow of the sun.

“How did you sleep?” You ask, brushing away your thoughts.

“I forgot what it was like to sleep that good.”  

“How long have you been up?” 

“Only a few hours.” He says with a small smile. 

“A few hours? You should have woken me up.” You scold. 

“You just looked so nice while you were sleeping. I didn’t want to bother you.” The man has softened up considerably from when you first met him and you loved seeing this side of him. “Sorry, I know that’s cheesy.” He adds with a soft chuckle, eyes searching yours. For what, you weren’t sure but you never wanted him to stop looking.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” You say, eyes trailing down to the floor. You suddenly felt incredibly ridiculous, like a schoolgirl flirting with her little crush. You were both adults yet here you were blushing and struggling to maintain eye contact as you both beat around the bush about what you really want. Not to mention that you’d only known this man for one day and this is the effect that he has on you? It all felt terribly childish to you and yet you couldn’t help but react this way to the grumpy man who seemed to have a soft spot for you. 

“What’s on the agenda today?” Curtis asked and you silently thanked him for drawing you out of the awkward hole you were stuck in. 

“Well, I’ve got games, books, films. But I figured you’d want to do something a little more useful.” With that, you open up a small chest at the end of the beds before pulling out a stack of notebooks and a handful of pens. Curtis shoots you a confused glance as you throw them down on the small tabletop beside the chair he still occupies. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re going to need a plan.” 

“We?” He inquires, sitting back and shooting you a skeptical look. 

“Yes. We.” The man’s gaze doesn’t falter, his lips pursed as he crosses his arms. “Look, you need someone that knows this part of the train and can get you past the guards. You can’t do this on your own. This is the kind of mission that’s far too important to take risks. Do you want to risk going alone and messing this up for everyone?” Curtis takes a deep sigh, looking between you and the notebooks. 

“What do you have in mind?” He asks, leaning forward to pick up one of the notebooks and flipping through the empty pages. 

“Well I haven’t had the chance to put a lot of thought into it but I’ve got some ideas. I figured, since we’ve got plenty of time, we can brainstorm together.” The man picks up a pen from the table. 

“I’m all ears.” As he says this he smiles, eyes focusing in on yours. With his attention focused solely on you, you pick up a notebook and pen as well. The two of you begin to swap ideas, writing down frantically as you formulate a plan to get Curtis to the front of the train. The guards would be around for a few more days. You would keep an eye out. The moment they were gone, you would find him a change of clothes and sneak him out of the room in plain sight. So long as he was cleaned up and dressed right, no one would question him if he was with you. That would be enough to get him through the rest of the way. It wasn’t foolproof by any means but it was a start. 

You both sat there discussing for hours, never running out of things to talk about as you shared one idea after another before settling on a rough plan. You stopped every so often to find food before continuing your conversation. It wasn’t long before the sun was setting again. The two of you decided to turn it in pretty early, knowing that you needed your rest if you were going to be carrying out this plan in the following days. Already the two of you had settled into a nightly routine. He got undressed to his comfort level and climbed into bed, allowing you to change just out of sight before heading up to join him. You both told one another good night before turning in opposite directions. The only thing that was different about tonight was that as soon as you were facing away from him you could feel his back pressed up against your own, like he couldn’t help but drift closer to you. His skin was warm through the thin fabric of your shirt and you held in a shudder at the tantalizing way he pushed into you. 

The next day started the same as the one before, with Curtis in the chair dressed and waiting for you to wake up. It was strange to you how quickly the two of you had fallen into this comfortable pattern. It wasn’t anything like the routine you had before you met him. Before, every day was a relentless repeat of the one previous. Now, it was like everything was fresh and exciting and you were comforted by the repetition. Something about this man had set your world on fire and as much as you could tell, you were keen to let it burn.

Every day you made at least one trip out to the hallway, checking to see how many guards were stationed there. And each day the number got smaller. In the meantime, you continued to live in your little world with Curtis. That next day he was eager to continue your conversation, pulling out the notebooks you had hidden under the bed the night before. He scribbled out notes rapidly as you two cleaned up your plan, making sure that everything was airtight. 

You decided to finish up early that night, before the sun had gone down. Once everything was put away you pulled out a stack of your favorite books, sitting on the floor beside his leg. You showed them all to him and picked one to read as his eyes gently closed, getting lost in your sweet voice. After a while you felt your eyelids began to get heavy and you realized it was almost your favorite time of the day. When you would climb into bed with Curtis, feeling your bodies pressing progressively closer together. That night you found yourself grow bold as you turned to face him, letting your hands find his chest as you moved impossibly near to him. He didn’t stop you, closing his eyes even tighter as he fights the urge to envelop you in his arms. 

As the guards began to disperse, the two of you only grew closer. You woke up to the familiar sight of Curtis waiting for you each day, his green eyes shining like emeralds in the sunlight as he watched you intensely. Always the intensity in those eyes. Once your plan was in order you set about showing him things that he hadn’t seen in a long time. You showed him your top movies, continued to read to him, played games with him, sung him some of your special songs. That was one of his favorite things. Laying back in the bed as you laid beside him, absentmindedly singing in that soft low voice that made his heart thrum with love. As the days went by you each got bolder in showing your affections to one another. A brush of his hand on your knee, the way he stroked your hair at night, holding hands while you conversed, completely care free in your expressions of love. 

At the end of the week you made your final trip into the hallway. There was one guard at each end but no one else was to be found. It was time. One more night and the path would be clear to the engine room. As you returned with a warm plate of food for Curtis you nodded a greeting to the guard as you passed him by. It was the man who had come to search your room that first day that you had met your precious grumpy tail sectioner. Giving him one last glance you slip into your room, offering Curtis the food which he happily takes. 

“Tomorrow is the day,” You begin. “There’s only two guards left. By tomorrow morning I guarantee they’ll be gone. They think they’ve lost you.” You add with a chuckle, feeling your heart pound in excitement knowing that you were able to fool all of Wilford’s men. 

“Good. I’m going crazy cooped up in here.” He says. The statement strikes you. You had been under the impression that he was enjoying his time with you. He seemed happy here. Had you been boring him? Were you not entertainment enough to keep him in good spirits? Was he really going crazy alone here with you? The past few days had been absolutely heavenly for you. They had been a solace in the never ending bore that was your life. It broke your heart that he didn’t feel the same. You fought back the urge to crawl into the bed and hide. 

“Well. Only one more night and then you’ll be out of here. I’m sorry that I couldn’t make your stay more enjoyable.” The apology was genuine as you crossed your arms over your chest. Curtis looked up at you, eyes flashing with regret as he realized what he had said.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Y/N.” 

“No, it’s okay. I understand. I would be bored too.” 

“I’m not bored.” 

“You don’t have to spare my feelings. I understand.” 

“Y/N, please.” 

“Curtis, it’s alright. I know I’m nobody’s ideal girl. I just thought you were happy with me, that’s all.” When you say this Curtis’ eyes darken as he stands, setting down the food on the nearby table. The man moves until he’s in front of you. Without hesitation he grabs both of your arms so that you are trapped in his grip. 

“I am happy with you. God, I’m happier here than I’ve ever been.” 

“Curtis, don’t lie--” Your statement is quickly cut off as his lips press warmly against your own. The action causes your eyes to widen before you instinctively close them gently, letting him hold you in his arms as he kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. When he finally pulls away his eyes never leave yours, boring into you.

“I only meant that I’m anxious to finish carrying out my mission. It’s been a long time in the making and I’m so close to the finish line. It has nothing to do with you. If I could stay here with you forever, I would. But there’s so much at stake. I can’t jeopardize the future of my people.” As you listen to his words a blush springs to your cheeks. You feel terribly foolish not realizing that he’s only thinking of his people. Your nerves and your insecurities had simply gotten the best of you. Curtis watches the thoughts fly around your troubled mind and he pulls you closer, gently kissing you once again. When he pulls back he caresses a tender hand over the side of your face. “Y/N?” 

“Yes, Curtis?” You ask, voice wavering. 

“You’re my ideal girl.” 

“Curtis?” 

“Yes, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me since the first moment I met you.” Curtis gives you a beautiful crooked smile before pulling you in for kiss after kiss, not being able to get enough of you. 

You both know as your lips meet again and again that you won’t be able to hold back. That this is the moment you’ve been craving the entire week. His hands travel from your face down your body, grazing over your breasts to find your hips. His hold on you is inescapable as he draws you in with the way that he kisses you. He kisses you like he’s loved you for a thousand years. It melts your heart at the same time as his firm grip on your flesh makes your pussy throb. 

“I want you Curtis.” You moan against his lips. 

“You have me baby.” With that, the two of you unleash your lust upon each other. His fingers pull at the hem of your shirt until he’s yanking it off. Your bra comes off next and the sight of your bare tits makes him grunt. His mouth attaches to your nipple, his fingers tweaking the other. You whimper as he uses his teeth to pull at your sensitive buds, making them hard in his mouth. Massaging your soft breasts he bites and sucks at you like a starving man. Curtis had never seen a more beautiful pair of tits in his entire life. He swore to worship them accordingly, sucking hickey marks into your tender skin. His eyes trail up to meet yours as he releases your nipple with a pop. 

Without warning he tugs at your pants, pulling them down your legs as he lowers himself to his knees. The sight of your clothed pussy only inches from his face made him salivate. Burying his face in the front of your panties, he uses his tongue on your covered clit. The feeling of that delicious friction makes you moan loudly and you cover your mouth, trying to keep the two of you from being discovered. This doesn’t slow Curtis’ attack on your sensitive rosebud, his teeth grazing over you there as his eyes stare up into yours. 

“God I fucking need you.” He says in a growl, jerking your panties down until they join your pants on the floor. He immediately continues his ambush on your clit, pulling your leg up over his shoulder so you’re open and exposed for him. His fingers dig into your thigh as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Tears spring to the corners of your eyes as you grind against his face, taking his hair firmly in your grip and guiding him right where you want him. His tongue trails down, prodding at your entrance. He pushes it inside, enjoying the taste of your juices. Your sweetness covers his chin as his nose nudges against your clit while he tongue fucks your precious cunt. “Jesus, you taste so good.” He says, returning to your clit. Once he does he replaces his tongue with a finger, fucking it up into you. His grunts vibrate against you as he curls his finger against your g-spot. His touch has you desperate and squirming, causing a coil to build in your stomach. No one has ever given you that feeling but yourself. Now, Curtis has you on the edge with hardly any effort. 

He wasn’t your first but by god, you wanted him to be your last. The way he makes you feel has you biting into your own hand, trying to hold back your pretty little sobs. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out. In response he adds another finger, brushing them both against that special spot until you’re begging him for more. 

“Cum for me. Please cum for me.” He says in a harsh whisper, speeding up his movements. That’s all the encouragement you need to ride the wave until you’re falling apart against his mouth. He sucks your clit harder, making you spasm until you’re panting heavily. Once he feels that you’ve come down from your high he pulls off of you and stands back up, taking a good long look at your flushed naked body. 

“Get in the bed.” He orders you and you happily do so. He watches you climb up, admiring your ass along the way. Once you’re in the bunk you lean over the side to watch him undress. He peels off every layer impatiently, trying to hurry so that he can be with you again. As soon as he’s naked you sigh deeply, taking in his beautiful form. He’s absolutely gorgeous with toned muscle in all the right places. His chest is smooth but there’s a light dusting of hair making a path down his pelvis right to where his thick cock is standing at attention. He’s girthy, sure to fill you up perfectly. The sight of him makes you swallow thickly as he starts to climb the ladder, joining you in the bed. You’re already on your back with your legs spread wide for him. All he has to do when he gets up there is nestle himself right between your thighs, the tip of his cock kissing your sensitive cunt. 

As soon as he’s comfortably on top of you he leans down to press his lips to yours once more. “God, I can’t get enough of your mouth.” He says, pulling you in as close as he can. His hand runs down the side of your body, holding onto your hip as his tongue slides over your own. With his hand so close to where you need him he can’t help but dip a finger between your legs, circling your clit relentlessly as he continues to mold your mouths together. You whimper against him as he pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, unable to hold himself back anymore. 

“Yes. I want you so bad. Please.” 

“Yes, Y/N. I fucking need you.” He utters, pressing his cock right up to your entrance. He presses his forehead to yours as he begins nudging the head inside of you. Even just the tip is stretching you impossibly wide and your mouth gapes open in a silent cry as he pushes a little harder, urging more of his cock into your sweet pussy. He holds himself up on his arm, his other hand holding the side of your face. “That’s a good girl. You can take it.” He whispers as he gives one last thrust, sheathing himself all the way inside. 

“Curtis!” You whimper, holding onto both his biceps. You’re already arching your back, pressing your body against his as it hovers over you. Gently he pulls out of you before sliding his hips back against yours, pressing as deeply into you as he can. His balls feel heavy pressed into your ass as he grinds down into you. He stays like that for a moment, letting you adjust to his thickness stretching you wide open. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he stays buried inside of you for a good long minute. Once he sees you relaxing again he pulls back out and pushes in again, slowly picking up speed. It isn’t long before he’s fucking you, pumping his dick in and out of you properly. The sounds of your wetness engulfing him are pornographic, his cock sliding easily against your velvety walls. You’re like heaven incarnate wrapped around him.

“Oh god, I’m not gonna last long.” He mutters, eyes shut tightly and his teeth clenched as he fights off his orgasm. It’s been over seventeen years since he’s been inside of a woman, especially one as soft and tender and loving and delicious as you. It was like torture not being able to cum the moment he entered you. 

“It’s okay. You can cum baby. I want you to cum for me.” You say, caressing his cheek softly. The gentle touch makes his cock twitch and it’s impossible for him to stave off his impending high. Before he can even think about pulling out you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. As you do so he looks into your eyes and finds the love there, swallowing him whole as he begins to pump his seed into you. Thick hot ropes of cum shoot deep into your womb and you cry out softly, loving the way he feels in you. He grits his teeth, cumming as hard as he’s ever cum. It’s almost painful as he bites his knuckle hard, fighting the instinct to grunt loudly. The two of you pant and heave as he falls against your body. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters into your chest. 

“For what?” You ask, utterly confused as to why he’s apologizing. 

“I didn’t last very long. I’ve never made love to such a gorgeous woman before. It was almost over before it started.” 

“Please don’t apologize. That was intense and hot and emotional and everything I wanted. No matter how long you lasted.” The man simply holds you tighter at your words, kissing your shoulder then up the side of your neck to your jaw and finally to your plush lips. The two of you stay entangled for a while before switching to a more comfortable position to sleep in. His arm is draped over you as the two of you continue to breathe, enjoying every second of this beautiful moment. It’s not long before the two of you are drifting off to sleep in one another’s arms and when you did, something miraculous happened. For the first time in years, you dreamed. Such glorious, mesmerizing dreams of the slumbering man in your bed.

Tags: @junipermuses​ @syntheticavenger​ @hansensgirl​ @venusstorm​ @shotgunbunny​ @onsunnyside​ @imaginedreamwrite​ @georgiapeach30513​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @evansbby​ @xcaptain-winterx​ @navybrat817​ @boxofbonesfic​ @littlelioncub43​ @oh-my-damn​ @comfortcap​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld ​ @bluemirrorball-recs @unearthlydust​  @clxudybott​

[justplainwhump]

Just A Fling: Invite

Written for the Peyton / Dany "Just A Fling"-AU. Peyton belongs to @wildfaewhump.

References this and this.

[Just A Fling Masterlist]

Content warnings: implied past assault (partly within a relationship), gaslighting, victim blaming; Peyton is an asshole.

The invitation card Dany can't stop staring at is settled right on top of a stack of other mail.

Business correspondence, all of that, she's sifted through it already; a signed copy of their collaboration agreement with a major freight airline, offerings from consultancies, the preprint of the upcoming issue of a logistics magazine featuring her in its cover story about their new automated container terminal. All items that should demand her attention.

All items that have ceased to exist in the instant she pulled the card from it's heavy white envelope, and all she can feel is dread pooling in her stomach.

It's a carefully designed layout, maritime imagery, golden letters in an elegant yet fancy font, all set around a photo of Peyton Montgomery looking casually stunning.

Just like Peyton had looked casually stunning leaning in the doorway of his house the last time she'd seen him, when he had shrugged and rolled his eyes at her and told her nothing she remembered was real. I think you need to take some time to figure yourself out, he'd said, and closed the door.

She hasn't even managed to get herself to hate him.

If anything, she hates herself. For accepting her defeaf, for allowing him, them, to be in control. Control of the narrative. Control of her.

It takes all of her effort to reach out for the card. It trembles slightly in her hand, as she turns it around to read its back.

The details are printed in golden letters. Party of the year. Peyton Montgomery's 30th birthday. His yacht, Davenport Marina. Next month.

It's not even a clerical error that she's receive one, not his office sending out a bunch of impersonal invites to an anonymous mailing list. No. It's personal. Dany, is handwritten on top of the card with an undoubtedly expensive fountain pen, and it makes her stomach turn how easily she recognises Peyton's handwriting from dozens of notes he's sneaked into her pockets during the few months of their affair.

Dany,. Nothing else.

It's a punch in the gut.

As if nothing happened.

No. As if what happened didn't matter.

The number next to the RSVP isn't his. She knows it from one glance, easily, because she knows too horribly much about that man.

Before she can think it through, she hits call on her phone, and his intitals light up on the display, over a photo of his hand holding a drink. Just a guy with no face. Just a casual fling. That's what they were always supposed to be. Not more.

Not less.

"Dany," Peyton answers, almost cheerfully. Dany. Just like on the fucking card. Just like she hears his voice say in her nightmares.

"What the actual fuck, Peyton?"

She hears someone talk in the background, and his voice muffled when he replies something, about wine coolers and ice cubes and tables, before he's back with her.

"Sorry, Party stuff. Event planner keeping me on my toes. You know how it is. So, what's up? Did you get the invite?"

She focuses on her hands, forces herself to stay steady. "Peyton," she presses through clenched teeth. "Are you even fucking aware of what happened at the last party we went to together? Hint, that was the one where you let your best friend spike my drink so that the two of you could have your way with me, and I wouldn't even remember."

His tone sounds like he's rolling his eyes. "Please, that didn't happen. Don't come if you're going to be a bad sport, but i thought you'd be over that ridiculous story by now, c'mon."

"Oh yeah?" Dany's fingers clench the phone, while she tries to control her breathing. To let the anger win, not whatever else it is she's feeling. "Pretty sure even Geoff remembers that different from you. Or Valerian. They - I -" She closes her eyes, trying to ban the images from her memory. Tears are stinging in the corners of her eyes. "That night," she starts again, "the two of you shattered me to fucking pieces. Nothing, nothing's been the same. I can't sleep. I can't feel safe. You took that from me. And now you expect me to rsvp to your fucking birthday party?"

The other end of the line goes quiet, the event planner shooed away.

"Fine." Peyton's voice is chilling, suddenly. "Consider your invitation rescinded. And I'll let my security know, so please don't show up and cause a scene. I really thought you'd be more mature about this, Dany. We had fun that night. You got drunk and high and scared yourself, and you've been on a crusade to blame me ever since. Don't call me again."

"Fuck you," she hisses. "I've kept fucking quiet about this everywhere, Peyton, because Geoff and you made sure your fucking lies are airtight. A crusade? That's the fucking opposite of this."

"You're lucky you're so fuckable," he sneers. "Because I certainly wasn't seeing you for your personality. Goodbye, Dany. You'll hear from my lawyers if you try to contact me again."

Dany stares at the phone for minutes, after he disconnected.

Slowly, there's something icy settling inside her and she allows it to grow; a cold rage gathering under her skin, a barrier settling over the dread and heartbreak and self loathing.

She's going to call her own lawyers, too.

But before that, she's going to make another call.

Her gaze flicks to the birthday card again. His yacht. Peyton's fucking proud of that thing, as proud as he is of his mind blowing parties.

She won't ever go on a crusade against him publicly, they both know that.

But there's one thing he doesn't know.

Her company doesn't just own commercial harbours.

She presses the button that connects her to her assistant. "I need to talk to the head of operations of Davenport Marina. About an event next month. The matter is confidential."

She'll never get back what Peyton took from her that night. He's won. But at least, he's given her opportunity to take something of his, something that signifies more to him than she ever did.

It's petty, it's small, it's beneath her; but at least it's something she can do.

She's going to take his party.

[maxbegone]

i know, i know it's friday. but i missed wednesday this week and i'm at nycc for the weekend, so i figured in the spirit of things, why not end the week with a sneak peek? have a lovely friday, i hope your weekend is wonderful ♥️

Henry idles with his backpack hanging off one shoulder. “Are you sure you’re alright with me staying here?”

“I swear it’s better than the loft in the barn.” Alex kicks a stray sweatshirt to the side. “Just…ignore that.”

Henry chuckles. “Wasn’t expecting company?”

“We only have formal luncheons scheduled for the second Tuesday of every month.”

“Charming.”

The urge to say, “Indeed,” is pushed out of Alex’s brain so fast it nearly makes his head spin. He chalks it up the the whirlwind his afternoon took.

“Anyway.” He clears his throat, circling around Henry to the opposite side of his room to sit against his desk. “Feel free to shower, but if you’re using the hot water, try and keep it under five minutes.”

“How do you even have that?” Henry asks.

“Leo’s an engineering genius and Raf is kind of a jack of all trades.”

“And it’s only…the seven of you?”

“Yeah. Well, nine of us actually,” Alex explains, crossing his arms. He nods toward the window. “Two family friends who live a few acres across. And Raf took over the guesthouse after he settled in. We’ve got, like, twenty or twenty-five acres so at least it doesn’t feel cramped.”

Henry is nodding kind of vacantly as he takes in the room. He finally walks further in, setting his bag down next to the bed before rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Henry sighs. “I think so. Or, I will be.”

“No one is gonna judge you if you knock out for a few hours. I know I certainly won’t.”

“If it’s all right by you, I might take you up on that shower. Maybe check in on Pez before I take a nap.”

“‘Course. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. And dinner’s at six.”

“Cheers.”

Alex shuts the door behind himself with a soft click. He pauses for a moment as he lets his head settle back against the wood and takes a breath, then crosses the hall to the linen closet. He pulls out a stack of towels, leaving one outside Nora’s room and the other outside his own.

[cocoawithmarshmallows]

cw: usage of tobacco products, references to sexual activity

Mayfly lied in bed now, eyes tracing the dimly lit ceiling. Her hands rested on her chest, cushioned by the blankets beneath her fingers, rising and falling with each of her bated breaths. Her thighs pressed together, hot in their softest creases, as she thought.

It wasn't her intention, not at first. She had been working late, filing reports. It was another slow night at the station, and Mayfly had offered to stay late to file reports of past robberies. In the presence of recent crime, new records of criminals had stacked up high; Mayfly did the right thing by offering to help, it was her job, after all.

She didn't know the sheriff would be staying late, too.

He was always so good at sneaking up on her, catching her off guard. Mayfly figured it would be another one of those things again, never expecting it to go somewhere, anywhere. Yet he managed to surprise her again, and Mayfly didn't understand how she didn't see it coming—lidded eyes, the gentle scent of liquor somewhere beneath his collar, the hot, dry air that passed through an open office window.

He offered her a ride home, which should have been the end of it. Mayfly had no idea how she ended up at his, truly. Bandits were out, it wasn't safe to travel so far out of town.

His house was closer, anyways.

What would her mother say? Nothing, being six feet into the ground, but Mayfly pondered the shame regardless. Her heart thrummed behind her chest as she recalled the night's events—the feeling of his rough hands in hers, those sounds he made like a bubbling brook as he towered over her, so unique, so pretty, the words he spoke to her, laced with moonshine on his tongue and echoing in the night air, close to her heart now, sweet thing, pretty girl.

Mayfly swallowed, shifting in her place. Against the dark, she could make out the cowhide hat of the sheriff, hanging quietly on the bedpost. Beside her, leaning back with face tipped to the side, was her impromptu man of the hour. He lifted a cigarette to his mouth with an inhale, the ember at the end expanding its light with his lungs, just enough glow for her to see his face for a fleeting moment, staring at her, gazing, as if he was ready to consume her all over again; and then his face plunged back into darkness, slightly shifting his body that weighed so heavily on the mattress because of his sheer size, causing Mayfly to roll closer to his person like the tides to the moon.

The smoke spun in the air as he blew it from his beak with a silent huff, a gossamer curtain of an after feeling that continued to course through Mayfly’s veins. It clouded her head, her senses, as she breathed in the secondhand smoke, redolent of his scent, of him, staining her lips like an indirect kiss.

“Doing alright there, darling?” He drawled, the end of his cigarette teasing his beak. “You’ve been real quiet.”

Mayfly said nothing, absorbing the silence, the feeling that lingered between them. Slowly, movement caught the corner of her eye, rustling, then a pause, followed by a hand outstretched in her direction.

The sheriff was offering her a cigarette.

“Helps me with the nerves, you know,” he admitted bashfully. His own remained lit, hanging by the corner of his mouth. Carefully, Mayfly shifted herself closer, taking the offering from his rough hand. Hesitantly, she placed it between her own lips, unsure of what to do.

The sheriff noticed her struggle, and with a gentle smile, he said, “Here. I’ll light it for you.”

Mayfly blinked, pondering why he hadn’t taken out his matchbox again, when the sheriff angled his head towards her as if to find her lips again, the red hot end of his own cigarette lighting hers, eyes closed as he breathed their shared air in. Mayfly’s cigarette radiated to life, painting both their faces with that same glow, allowing her to catch his eyes once more before the inky sheet of night hid those pooling black eyes once more.

The smoke burned on its way out of her nose and lungs, dense and warm, unknotting the bundles in her muscles and quelling the ache in her chest. Out she breathed, her own cloud a signature of her presence in his room, his bed.

The two remained silent for a moment, before Mayfly spoke again. “…It was real nice of you to let me stay someplace safe tonight.” The cigarette smoked between her fingers, it almost spelled out his name. “Never knew you felt that way…’bout me. …Thank you, sir.”

A slower exhale preceded his answer, Mayfly could hear the smile on his tongue through the dark. “Call me Leo.”

Mayfly swallowed. “Leo?”

“As many times as you want me, sugar.”

tl:dr: mayfly ends up sleeping with the sheriff who just so happens to be leo

this was supposed to be a short blurb how the heck did it spiral aksjdgdhfjfk

read “sanctuary” on ao3 (shameless plug)