#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. 

[lonely-ey3s]

With All My Love : Chapter 1

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Series warnings: mentions of war/combat, violence, mentions of blood, angst, flashbacks and mentions of abusive relationship between an ex and also family, smut 18+ MDNI (each chapter will have more in depth warnings), eventual fluff, flirting, small age gap (Joel is mid 30’s, switched POV, reader is late 20’s), mutual pining, any additional warnings will be listed in each chapter.

Summary: You enlist in the army as a way to escape your abusive ex-boyfriend. While you are in basic training and eventually deployed as a medic in the army, you participate in a pan pals program that your bunkie convinces you to do with her. What you don’t expect is to be paired with Joel Miller, a single dad in Texas, who you find great comfort and motivation in writing back and forth. As each letter comes to you from him, and to him from you, you both realize ‘warm regards’ turns into ‘with all my love’. 

Banners by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1: Pens, Paper and Stamps

Word count: 5.3k

Chapter warnings: mentions of abuse, flashbacks and nightmares of abuse, small age gap, flashbacks, mentions of being in basic training for the army, start of mutual pining, switched POV's.

Reader’s POV

You need to get 3 things at the camps commissary, or at least at a minimum 3 things. Your bunkie, Maria, signed you both up for this pen pals program and she said that you need at least pens, paper and stamps as she already had envelopes. 

You had just finished a grueling day of training, every muscle in your body aches. The last thing you want to do is write a letter, but if you two were going to do this thing together, you needed to write something this evening as the mail was sent out from your camp only once a week. You could say it was now or never (or at least another week). 

You paid for some general Bic pens, a small notebook with lined paper and had the choice of choosing either stamps with the American flag or with birds. You chose to not shove that you guys were in the military down your pals throat, and chose the birds. Birds could maybe be a conversation starter right? But what did you know about birds? Nothing, but who cares. You also opted to grab a Fort Jackson post card to put in the envelope. You loved postcards but this program was weird about solely sending just that, so you thought you’d sneak one in just for your own joy and amusement. 

When you got back to your bunkhouse, Maria just about leapt out of her bed to come grab supplies from you. She was a lot more eager to do this, and also a lot more energetic than you in the sense of most things. She had that ‘glass half full, grass is greener’ personality, whereas you were somewhat the opposite. You chose to live in reality and if things were shit, things were shit. You didn’t want to focus on what they ‘could be’, you wanted to focus on what they were so you could fix it. Maybe that’s why you were going into the medic program, you knew that if someone in the field was going to die, you weren’t going to waste precious time trying to save them, instead focus on those you could. Was that harsh and cold? Absolutely but that’s just how you were programmed and that’s the only way you knew how to live. However, regardless of your opposite personalities, you two were thicker than thieves, bonded. She annoyed you with her sunshine attitude most of the time, but she kept you grounded, and you saw her as a great friend, and somewhat of a sister figure. She was a good man in a storm, and you needed that. 

“Birds? Wasn’t there anything else besides birds?” she looked at you a little disappointed as she sat back on her bed with some paper, a few pens and half of the stack of stamps you bought. 

“Girl, we live on a military base, I was surprised there was something other than the flag to choose from..” you chuckled as you thought how you could have come back with the American flag stamps, how that would have thrown her panties in a bunch as she also noted before you left to not get any ‘Uncle Sam’ stamps. 

“Fair enough. Thanks for getting all this. Maybe when we are in town next time we can get something more exciting.” she said as she started to lay out her paper and start writing.

All you did was slightly nod and hum. You didn’t really care much for all the frill and customization of these letters like she did, but thought maybe that who you were writing to once you heard back from them, that may change your mind. 

All you had was a name and address for who you were writing. You thought that wasn’t much to go off of, hell with a name like ‘Joel’ you didn’t know if you were writing to someone closer to your age or an old man eating jello from a cup in a retirement center. 

You wrote the address and return address on the envelope that Maria had left on the desk for you and placed a stamp on it. You thought of what to write… do you do things like an introduction to yourself, ask questions, what the hell were you going to write? 

Maria must’ve sensed your hesitation to write because she just casually guided, “Just start by introducing yourself and go from there.. It’ll be easier when they write back to us back.” she said with a soft smile as you peeked over your shoulder to look at her. 

Maria didn’t just sign you both up for this program for the hell of it, she knew you needed more people, someone besides her to open up to. She hoped that by participating, it would help you not feel so alone, which she knew was a thought that consumed you more than you liked to admit.

You turned back around and let out a small sigh before starting:

‘Dear Joel, 

Greetings from South Carolina!’ 

No - fuck, that’s stupid, who the hell says ‘Greetings!’...? You tore the page out, crumpled it up and tossed it into the waste bin. Maria softly giggled “Let me guess, did you say something like ‘Greetings’?” 

You scoffed and smiled over at her “You know what? Shut up..” you both let out a small laugh before you turned back to your page, pen in hand fiddling it between your fingers, thinking. 

Ok let's try this again. 

‘Dear Joel, May 14, 2014

It seems like you and I have been paired for this program together. Congrats to us? If I am being honest, my bunkie is making me do this, so I’m not sure how to write letters, so you’ll have to mind me warming up to the process. 

I could start with a little bit about me? I am writing to you from Fort Jackson, SC. My name is _____, and I am currently in basic training to be a medic in the United States Army. I was born and raised in Washington, but moved to Augusta, GA a little over 5 years ago. However, now I am here in the humid as shit state of South Carolina, and can’t wait to be done with basic in a few weeks, this state with its giant ass bugs from hell can kindly bugger off. Have you seen the bugs they have here? They should be deemed a danger to society with how big they are… no thank you. 

I don’t really know what else much to write about myself, as I believe I am not the most exciting person to learn about, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I don’t really have a picture to send or I would,  you know- like to give you a face to connect with the letter. I’ll try to have Maria (the bunkie) get a Polaroid of us or myself at one point to send in my next letter. Maybe by then I could take one at graduation? We’ll see. 

I guess some questions I have for you is, what do you do for a living? Any hobbies or interests? Birds? Do you like birds? Dumb question, I know but I chose the bird stamp versus the American flag at the camp commissary, thought maybe it could be an ice breaker? Not that I know jackshit about birds - shoot sorry, pardon my language. I’ve been living in close quarters with men that have mouths of sailors for the past 3 weeks, I’ll try to catch myself if you aren’t ok with swearing. Where was I? Birds. Yeah I don't know a thing about birds but if you do, tell me an interesting fact? Or if you can pick a more interesting stamp, maybe we can talk about that :) 

Well, I am not sure when this will get to you but if you don’t write back for a couple of weeks, you could catch me while I am possibly deployed? I’ve been told after graduation a lot of the medics get assigned pretty quickly overseas, but who knows? I guess what I am trying to say is I’ll try to write as often as I can, you know, put as much effort in this relationship? Is that too weird to say, relationship? Oh well. I’ll know if you don’t write back - it was too fast. ;)

I look forward to getting to know you more Joel, until next time, stay healthy and well. 

Warm regards, 

Y/N’ 

You wrote on the postcard:

‘I guess something about me is that I am a sucker for a postcard, so expect one in each of our letters, since the program won’t let me write solely on one to send you. Sorry this one is so boring, I promise to get one that has something more unique next time!’

You folded up the paper into thirds and then stuck the letter and postcard into the envelope then looked back and found Maria spritzing some perfume on her letter and letting out a chuckle while rolling your eyes “Jesus, why the perfume?”

She looked up and turned a little red, “You weren’t supposed to see that. Let a girl live. Who knows, maybe me and my pen pal will fall in love, you know, like those hallmark movies?” she looked into the distance longingly, clutching the envelope to her chest. 

You just let out a belly laugh, “I’ll let you live out that fantasy, and I’ll just hope for your sake you didn’t just awaken an old man in a nursing home's sex drive…” you teased. 

She slapped you with her envelope as you walked by to get ready for bed. “Don’t you dare manifest that!” she said with a slight giggle. You just looked at her and shook your head, “What’s your pals name again, Reginald?” chuckling as you tried to think of some older man’s name to tease her. 

She looked over at your annoyed, “No smartass, his name is Tommy.”

Joel’s POV

Joel wasn’t one to do a pen pal program, in fact he still didn’t want to do it, but he promised Sarah, his 13 year old daughter, who was doing it in her school’s homeroom class, with kids outside the country, he would do it too as Sarah wanted something for them to bond over. Sarah though, also she hoped her dad would make a friend or find joy in whomever he wrote as she knew he was lonely ever since her mom left them. 

Regardless of his agreement, that didn’t stop him from tucking your name and address he had received from the program 2 weeks ago away. He felt intimidated by making the first move and hoped that whoever he was paired with would secretly be the same, and nothing would come of it. That was until Sarah ran in from the front door with the mail in her hand, waving it about excitedly, “They wrote! Dad, your pal wrote to you! Look!” she shook the envelope in his face and then spun in a circle. 

Joel couldn’t help but smile, obviously Sarah was excited and happy about the letter, maybe he should give it a chance? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Alright, calm down kiddo… let me open the damn thing. Goodness.” he took the envelope from her and lightly chuckled as he leaned up against the counter and opened it, and started to read quietly to himself. He liked the part where you mentioned the bird stamps and trying to find an ice breaker. He could tell by your rambling writing you may have been just as nervous and intimidated by the process too, and that set his mind slightly more at ease. His eyes widened slightly reading you were going to be deployed as army medic. He knew from his brother serving that put you in a very dangerous situation and that tore as a small part of him. He didn’t want you in danger, but he also knew you were making an incredible sacrifice and that earned you a bucket load of respect from him. 

He looked in the envelope as he felt something else in there and then smiled warmly pulling out the postcard you additionally sent and read the small message. He also enjoyed postcards more than letters, and found joy in knowing you felt the same. Something about postcards felt more unique and authentic to him, and he knew he would be sending you one back, it was something you both had in common, and he liked that.

Sarah watched as he read through everything, eagerly waiting to see when he would finish, then she started to bombard him with question after question, “So? What did they say? What are they like? Did they send any pictures? Sam sent photos of him and his family, did yours? What’s their name, how old are they? Do they like baseball like you?...” 

Joel looked at Sarah and softly chuckled “Here, you can read it, it’ll answer most of those questions.” He pushed himself off the counter and left the letter for her to look over. 

He wanted to write you back, as he knew it took about a week for your letter to get to him, if his timing was right, he could get his letter to you in time, before your possible deployment. However, he needed to run to the market to pick out some postcards to send you, but also Sarah reminded him the other day, they needed more stamps. 

Sarah had a paper due tomorrow so while she did that, he ran to the store and grabbed what he needed. He also grabbed some film for Sarah’s polaroid camera as he wanted to send you a picture of him and Sarah, give a face to the writer as you put it. 

When he got home, he could hear some music from up in Sarah’s room so he sat down at the kitchen table so he could be as distraction free as possible and began to write:

‘Dear Y/N, May 22nd, 2014

I wanted to get this letter back to you before your possible deployment, and if I do the math right, it should arrive to you either right before or right after your graduation, so with that being said ‘Congratulations and thank you for your service’ or thank you for the service you’re about to do… god I’m not good at this. 

He sighed heavily and rubbed his fingers into his scruff thinking what to write next. 

Ok, changing subjects, I also enjoy postcards more than letters, so I’ve also added one to my letter package. However, mine will be quite boring as they will all be from Austin, unless I travel for work, but still, majority will be from Austin as I won’t be traveling like you, but still, I’ll do my best to get a variety for you. You’ll be an expert on Austin, TX - we can say that. :)

You asked what I do for a living- I own a construction business with my brother, so I am a contractor. We are currently working on a shopping plaza which has been a lot of work. My knees and back are killing me, but it is always worth all the hard work in the end. Hobbies? I enjoy watching sports, baseball specifically, but other than that, I work long hours and am a single dad, so hobbies just don’t really happen. I’m sure with you being in the army, you understand that. But before the army, what were your hobbies and interests? Sports fan by chance? 

I don’t know jack about birds either- and don’t worry about cussin’ - I don’t mind. After all, I am a contractor. I'm sure at least half of what you hear from those men with mouths like sailors is part of my daily vocabulary. But birds - yeah, don't know much other than what I learned on Animal Planet when Sarah was little and went through a 6 month phase of that damn channel and only that channel - but those random fact only spur on whim. 

Also, don’t worry about sending a bird stamp. Hell, the only stamps we have in our house are the state of Texas. So exciting, right?

You mentioned those bugs they got you where you are. I’m with you there, those things can go back to the hell they came from. Don’t they fly too? Now that right there - that just ain’t natural. 

He heard Sarah’s bedroom door open, which meant he needed to wrap this up if he wanted to finish it without her sticking her nose in his business. 

I’ll wrap this up by saying, I know we both aren’t keen on the idea of this right now from the sound of it, but knowing how deployment can be lonely, feel free to write as much as you’d like, we can be each other's tie outside of our daily routine. You can tell me about life wherever you’ll be and I’ll tell you about all the ‘fun’ here in the states. 

Stay safe out there and congrats again on graduating.

Joel’   

Sarah came bouncing down the stairs humming to herself while the music she was playing in her bedroom still played upstairs, nose in a book. Joel looked at her and stood from his chair, “Hey, could I borrow your Polaroid camera? I wanted to send y/n a photo of us in my letter back.” 

Sarah looked up from her book, and smiled softly, “Sure dad, one sec!” she put the book down on the counter while she ran back upstairs to grab her camera. Once back down, the two of them took a few photos together at the table, one smiling, one making a silly face (in which Joel just stuck two fingers behind Sarah’s head to make bunny ears and laughed in her direction sweetly). Joel settled on 2 photos that came through not too blurry and tucked them into the envelope along with the postcard he grabbed and wrote, ‘Can’t wait to see your next post card! -Joel

He then put it on the entry table to put in the mailbox tomorrow morning when he left for work and then started making dinner for he and Sarah. 

1 week later 

Reader’s POV

You and Maria graduated from basic on a beautiful day in June. As expected, it was a busy day filled with everyone’s family and friends that came to support their soldier. 

Maria’s parents and brother both came for the ceremony. You didn’t have anyone come, which was of course by choice and Maria knew that. Your parents had passed a few years back, but even if they were alive, they wouldn't have come either. They were part of the reason you left Washington, they also were never ones to support you in anything. You supported yourself growing up, never could ask them for a thing, and without them, you didn’t have any other family to come support you and you didn’t want whoever else had been in your life up until this part to be there, being alone, having no one there meant you were safe. 

Maria’s mother gave you a small hug and smiled “Where’s your family, dear?” you smiled and were about to answer some vague bullshit answer when Maria interjected, “Mama where did dad go? I wanted to have a picture with you two!” she looked at you and winked knowing not talking about it was better than lying about it. 

Maria knew the situation of why you joined the army, and knew that you were pretty much on your own when it came to your civilian life. It started when she saw the bruises and marks on you on the first day of boot camp. She heard the whimpers and cries in your sleep when you’d have nightmares of your ex-boyfriends abuse. She saw the sheets that were soaked with your sweat caused by your night terrors, or when you would try to wake early in the morning to make your bed to hide the evidence of your trauma, she knew how hard you tried to hide the pain. 

However, that changed when one night she attempted to comfort you as you mumbled ‘Please stop, no please, I’ll do anything, don’t hurt me!’ in your sleep. She put a hand on your shoulder and gently whispered your name, coaxing you to wake up, pleading that you were safe, but it was met by you waking up, not knowing your reality and shoving her to the ground, pinning her down, eyes crazed with fear. When you finally realized where you were, and what had happened, you jumped off her, profusely apologizing and begging her to not say anything to your commanding officer, as you both knew that you could possibly be thrown out due to your mental and emotional state. She insisted you tell her everything, and you did, you told her it all.

You opened up about the years of mental, emotional and physical abuse your ex, Charlie, did to you. How isolated you were, how he cut off old friends and tried to keep you under his grasp. Explained he would hit you when you did something wrong, or what he considered wrong, and how on the night you left, he had beat you within an inch of your life for not having dinner on the table when he got home from work and then to top it off, finding there wasn’t any beer in the fridge as well. You explained that going to the cops did nothing, they were all his buddies from school and that each report seemed to disappear. You decided that night that once he was passed out asleep you would leave. That if the law wouldn’t help, you needed to leave. You explained how as you were driving out of town, you happened to pass a recruiting office for the army, there was some bright light or gravitating feeling, ushering you to go inside, how you couldn’t explain it but it felt right. You signed up right then and there, bought a bus ticket with what money you had left in your wallet and then the rest was history. 

Maria knew from then on, you two would be each other’s family in service, she knew you’d need someone to lean on and she felt an urge to protect and support you, so that’s what she did, and you felt the same towards her. 

You two were unstoppable as a team. Every drill, test, scenario you proved time and time again you were both meant to be there, as well as meant to work together. She had an instinct to solve complex issues, and you had a skill of how to compartmentalize and work fast. You passed your finals with high marks and one within a record breaking time. You both took pride in what you were about to do, and wanted to be the best.

“Oh speaking of photos, that reminds me, will you take our picture ma’am?” you handed your polaroid camera to Maria’s mom and looked at Maria, “I promised Joel I’d send a picture in my next letter…” you hugged Maria at your side ready to have your photo taken.

“Who’s this ‘Joel’ and why isn’t he here?” Maria’s mom asked, confused as she lined up her eye line to the camera. 

You blushed lightly and chuckled “No, it’s not like that ma’am, Joel is my uh, Maria and I are doing a pen pal thing, he’s my pal. I told him I’d send him a photo in my second round of letters.” 

“Ah, so no boyfriend then?” she waved her hand for you and Maria to scooch closer to each other, “Ok say cheese on 3! 1…2…3!” 

You both smiled and a small laugh boiled up from you when Maria goofily said “Cheese!” 

You smiled at her mom when the photo started to dispense “No ma’am, no boyfriend.” Her mom gathered the first photo and then looked up at you “No you stay right there, Maria come over here! Y/N I’ll get one with just you for this… Joel” she said with a smirk. 

You rolled your eyes and chuckled “It’s not like that..” but chose to amuse her, you didn’t have to send the photo to Joel, you could keep it for yourself, right? He won’t want one of just you. 

She just pursed her lips together and narrowed her eyes “Mmhmm…” she lined up her eye line again. “Just because it’s not like that now, don’t mean it can’t be, now smile.” 

You straightened up your uniform and cap then smiled into the camera. 

When you and Maria finally got back to your room after her parents insisted on taking you both out for dinner, you found a letter on your pillow, which had the return address and name from Joel. 

You smiled and picked it up, taking off your cap and setting it on your pillow. You took off your button up and turned on the table top fan on your desk. Jesus, no matter how low your A/C was turned, it was still so damn hot here. 

You opened up the envelope and found the postcard from Austin first. You smiled and read the message Joel had left. He had nice handwriting, legible, and better than you thought a man would write if you were being honest. Every other man in your life has chicken scratch writing, so it was a relief that you’d be able to read his letters with little to no struggle. 

The next thing that you pulled out was the two photos he and Sarah took. The first was the two of them smiling nicely. He was handsome, very handsome as you noted. He had kind eyes and an even kinder smile. He looked no more than a couple years older than you. He must have been young when he had his daughter, you thought. You sifted through the second photo and let out a small chuckle seeing the silly face Sarah had pulled but something tugged at your heart when you saw how adoring and loving Joel was looking at Sarah. He loved that girl with his whole heart, that was clear as day. 

You smiled and then pulled out the letter he wrote and read it quietly to yourself. 

You let out a snort when he mentioned the flying bugs, Maria came into the room with a towel around her head as she had come back from the shower, “Something funny?” she asked while walking over to her bed. 

You jumped slightly, her presence startling you, “Oh, um, no. Well kind of.” you smiled at your letter. “Joel wrote back, and just said something he said was funny. He uh, he said the flying bugs we have here can go back to hell..” 

She came over and saw the photos he sent “Damn, is this him?” she looked at the photo closer, gawking at his obvious good looks.

You quickly grabbed the photo back and tried to hide your small smile and blush “Yeah that’s him and his daughter.”

Maria saw the smile and poked at your side softly as you stood up, “Don’t try to hide it, you think he’s cute!” she teased.

You swatted her hand away gently and chuckled as you walked away, “He’s good looking, yes. But that’s all. He… I… it’s… that’s all it is, he has nice features.” you scrambled to get out as you put the letter, post card and photos back in the envelope and hiding them under your pillow. 

Maria laughed loudly and pointed “You have a crush!” mockingly. 

You rolled your eyes and started to gather your shower tote “Whatever you want to believe Maria..” and walked out of the room towards the showers. 

By the time you were back from your shower, Maria had already fallen asleep and the lights were shut off for the most part. She left one on to help guide you without tripping, and it was the desk light. You weren’t very tired and after your shower felt a burst of energy surge through you. You put your shower tote away and then put on some loungewear before grabbing the envelope with Joel’s letter and began writing:

‘Dear Joel, June 2nd, 2014

You beat me to putting a face the letter writer! Lovely photos, thank you for them! I’ve also taken some at my graduation today for you. I’ll take more if I remember to. 

Your daughter is beautiful. She has your eyes and smile. How old is she? What does she enjoy doing? If she’s the age I am guessing she is, around early teens, I am guessing the mall is something she enjoys… at least that’s what I did around that age. 

I’m glad we found some common ground on postcards! I will be lucky to get a variety of sorts from where you are in Austin. :) 

I agree with you also about the damn flying bugs here. I hope that wherever I go, the bugs aren’t any bigger than they are here… watch me get assigned to some tropical area where there are spiders as big as my fist! Good lord, pray I don’t get that assignment. 

You asked about sports, I do love watching baseball and have been to a few games. If I had to choose a team, I’d say Go Cubs! I also love football, grew up in a town where football was like a religion. I am assuming since you’re in Austin that you’re a Cowboys fan? I don’t mind them, their defense could use a little work, but other than that, they are a fun team to watch. I grew up as a Redskins fan, but watching the league without state influence, I have been liking the Vikings or Broncos lately. (I feel this might be a sore spot for us, lol). 

Hobbies, I’m like you, I was always too ‘busy’ for hobbies, or just never got around to taking time to myself to discover any. Now that I’m about to be deployed, I don’t see that changing any time soon either. However, I don’t mind taking photos with my Polaroid and before I enlisted, took some on a digital camera, but lost it in the process of leaving my last place. 

You said that Sarah went through an Animal Planet phase? If you can’t spit out a fact, at least tell me, what’s your favorite animal? I’ll go first, to make it fair- whales. I love them. I think they are so cool and would love one day to go whale watching. 

I don’t know where I’ll be next when you hear from me, you caught me on my graduation night, which is the perfect way to end such a crazy day! Thanks for writing back. I look forward to more. 

Talk to you soon. Stay safe, healthy, and heat your back and knees, or if you’re like me, get a brace so you don’t fall apart ;) We are too young for these issues! 

Warm regards, 

Y/N’ 

You folded the pages in three, picked out a new post card that you had found when you went out a week ago that had a vintage photo of Main Street on it. You wrote 'Tried fried okra and sweet tea for the first time on this street the other day, ya’ll are up to something in the south with that kind of food! Damn! -Y/N'

You also slipped in both the photos Maria’s mom took into the envelope and sealed it shut, no chickening out you told yourself. 

You placed the stamp and wrote his address out before grabbing his letter and photos and getting into bed. You pulled out the photo of him and Sarah smiling nicely and thought just for a sliver of a second how you didn’t feel so alone. 

Maybe this pen pals thing wasn’t so bad.

Next chapter

this is my first fic ever so please like, comment, share if you'd like more! If you'd like to be a part of the tag list, lmk! thx luvs!

[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!!!

[imtrashraccoon]

Mm, I love it when a story comes together. We're getting to the good bits now, lovelies. Very proud of this one, especially the ending...

@owl-bones

First, Previous, & Next Day

Bad Sansuary II: Killer - Chase

Word Count: 1,429

"i'll go first."

You frowned as Dirk stepped in front of you and reached for the rope ladder. "Are you sure? I don't mind leading the way," you said.

He shook his head. "no, it's fine. the others trusted me to keep you safe and i would be a fool to betray that trust." When you didn't look convinced, he smiled and gave you a playful shove. "besides, i can get out of a sticky situation a lot faster than you can. it just makes sense for me to lead this time."

"I still think that it's unfair all three of you can teleport," you remarked. "But you make a good point. I'll keep an eye from above until you get down."

"what can i say? most skeletons are just naturally gifted with magic. maybe boss would teach you some if you asked?"

You shrugged as he started to descend the ladder. "Considering I only had the patience to learn basic mana manipulation and some conjuration as a pup, I doubt I would make a good student. I'll just stick to what I know best."

"suit yourself," Dirk murmured.

A few seconds later, his boots touched the cavern floor and he turned around, carefully surveying the area. After a moment, he held up a hand, motioning for you to follow. You took a deep breath and began making your way down the rope ladder, hoping it wouldn't randomly give way underneath your weight.

When you reached the bottom, you realized the cavern was larger than it first appeared and there was a passage at the far end, possibly leading deeper into the mountain. The walls appeared to be natural, as if they had naturally eroded away over time, possibly after a natural disaster like an earthquake. Although, you could also see places where someone had come in and widened the way or smoothed down sharp stones.

"Do you know hand signs?" you whispered to Dirk. "We might need them if there's people around."

He shrugged, "i know a few basic ones."

"Good enough. Let's move forward cautiously, alright?"

He nodded and took the lead once more as you began to move deeper into the cavern. To keep from making too much noise, progress was painstakingly slow, but otherwise your footsteps would echo off the cave walls and give away your presence. Eventually, you came to a small ledge and when you peered over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight below.

There were four figures gathered around an unlit fire pit, all wearing dark robes with a purple eye painted across the chest. It appeared to be a small camp and you spotted a few sacks scattered about, a stack of firewood, various cooking implements, and other supplies that had been brought in. You were also able to catch bits of conversation, although the topics weren't of much interest at the moment.

Dirk tapped your shoulder, catching your attention once more. He motioned to an incline, silently suggesting you both sneak down to the camp. You glanced at it again before shaking your head, holding up four fingers to indicate how many enemies there were.

If he was suggesting a fight, you were already outnumbered. Maybe if both of you took out one of the figures without being seen it could work, but you would still have to fight the remaining enemies and that would create unnecessary noise. There was no way of knowing if there were more people nearby or not.

To top it all off, both you and Dirk were only in light armour. Your hide and fur would do little to protect you from a well placed strike or blast of magic. The rogue wasn't much better, although his studded armour provided a bit more protection. You remembered Donovan scolding him about still wearing the stolen Shiftingtails Kingdom's Scout armour, insisting he wear anything else that wouldn't make him stick out like a sore thumb. Dirk had begrudgingly agreed, complaining he looked boring, but you were secretly glad he (probably) wasn't wearing a dead person's armour anymore.

Dirk narrowed his eye sockets at the figures below before shaking his head. He pointed to another passage on the other side of the makeshift camp, indicating that he actually wanted to sneak past to see what else was down here. You weren't sure whether that had been his original plan or if he had changed it to please you.

You nodded and began to follow him down the incline, moving as quietly as possible. To his credit, Dirk was quite good at shutting up and staying silent when the situation required, he just needed the proper motivation, usually something valuable.

"What the-! Intruders!"

Your blood ran cold and you turned to make eye contact with another cloaked figure. They had apparently been leaning against the rock wall beneath the ledge and you had missed spotting them earlier. Unfortunately, their cry had alerted the other four, who were already preparing to engage.

You and Dirk simultaneously drew your daggers. This wouldn't be an easy fight, but if you could summon your meteor hammer, you should be able to keep them at a distance. Maybe Dirk could use his magic to trap or weaken them?

That was when you noticed three of the figures cast an armour spell and you quickly changed your mind. One spellcaster was a problem but three or more was a death sentence. Maybe if you had magic protection on your armour or a way to absorb their mana, you could hold your own, but neither of you had anything like that.

Dirk seemed to come to the same realization as he suddenly grabbed your paw and yanked you into the passageway. "time to run," he hissed.

You nodded and hurried to keep up. The sounds of your pursuers only made you run faster, doing your best to avoid tripping over the uneven ground.

The cave twisted and turned, before splitting off into multiple directions. Dirk picked one at random and you both kept running, hoping to lose the occultists or at least thin their numbers out. Thankfully, there were torches spaced out at regular intervals, so you were able to see where you were going for the most part.

Then you came to a dead end.

You cursed under your breath. "What now?"

At first, Dirk didn't answer and looked around the room. You could still hear the sound of your pursuers, although they sounded further away at the moment.

His eye sockets zeroed in on a little ledge near the roof of the cavern. "there," he whispered. "i'll boost you up..."

He threaded his phalanges together, forming a foothold for you underneath the ledge, not unlike how Reven had done to help you climb over the wall in Newridge. You stepped into the foothold and with some additional help on his part, managed to climb up the rock wall to the ledge.

It was a small alcove in the rock, but just deep enough that you could reasonably hide in it. If you laid down flat, you had a good feeling that no one would see you from down below.

You laid down, trying to anchor yourself as best you could, and reached an arm down for Dirk. "Come on, before they catch up," you hissed.

Thankfully, he was relatively light and despite being quite a bit taller than you, was nimble enough to climb up without much hassle. You crawled back to make room for him, flattening yourself against the ground again.

For a moment, neither of you said anything and just focused on catching your breath. Gradually, the sounds of your pursuers faded away and you could breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed you had lost them, for now.

You turned to Dirk, only to come face to face with his empty eye sockets. His permanent grin sharpened ever so slightly when you jumped but he remained silent, choosing not to tease you about it just yet.

"We're in big trouble," you whispered.

Dirk nodded, "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to bring you deeper, but once i realized, it was too late to turn back."

"Can you teleport out?"

He reached over and grabbed onto one of your paws. He seemed to focus for a moment before letting out a breath. It was subtle and if you weren't inches from his skull, you may not have even noticed, but it was the change in his expression that struck fear into your soul.

You had never seen Dirk look horrified before.

[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.

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Four

*Adult content ahead*

Another morning’s worth of chores was behind me, but no matter how hard I tried to focus on the work, the memory of Ryan’s lips on mine kept sneaking back into my thoughts. It was maddening, the way one moment could replay so vividly, like a song stuck on repeat.

A soft nudge on my shoulder pulled me back to reality. I glanced over to see Denim’s muzzle pressing against me, his big brown eyes full of quiet insistence.

“All right, buddy,” I said with a small laugh, scratching his neck affectionately. “Let’s get to it.”

I led him into the corral, the familiar rhythm of our routine soothing my restless mind. Denim loved training—always eager, always focused. He seemed to know how much I needed this, needed him.

We’d been working on level four tricks for months now, honing moves that could truly wow the crowds. Things like side passes, flying lead changes, even some fancy spins. Denim took to it all like a natural, his intelligence and spirit shining through every step.

I let myself get lost in the training. Nothing else mattered—not the chores, not my swirling thoughts—just the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the ground and the powerful connection between horse and rider. The wind whipped through my hair, cool and wild, and for those fleeting moments, I felt truly free. This was everything. The thrill I lived for.

The spell broke when the dinner bell rang, echoing across the ranch. The guys were back from the field, which meant if I wanted this meeting with Ryan to actually happen, I had to move. Fast.

Sliding off Denim, I gave him an affectionate pat on the neck. “Good boy,” I murmured, even as the realization hit me—I reeked of horse. The earthy scent of Denim clung to me like a second skin, and I wasn’t sure how romantic I could feel smelling like a barnyard.

I jogged toward the house, the excitement of seeing Ryan again mingling with a nervous energy. There was no time to waste.

A short while later, the grime of the day had been washed down the shower drain, and I stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around me. It wasn’t a date, I reminded myself. It was something else. Something more. The weight of that realization made my chest tighten.

Then it hit me. I needed to find Jamie or Lee. They’d have what I needed. I didn’t want to get caught up in the moment only to realize I wasn’t prepared. Ryan was thoughtful, sure, but just in case he didn’t think of it... I had to.

I threw on some clothes and headed down the hall, knocking on Jamie’s door. “Hey, I need to ask you something, and you can’t tell Dad,” I said firmly.

“What is it?” Jamie opened the door, his face drawn and tired like he hadn’t slept in days.

“You okay?” I asked, stepping inside. His normally neat room was a disaster—papers strewn across the desk, spilling onto the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Just going through the books. There’s not enough to cover feed for the winter.” His voice carried a sharp edge of panic.

“We’ll figure it out. We always do,” I said, trying to reassure him. His worry was contagious, but I couldn’t let it show. “Take a breath, and we’ll look at it together.”

Jamie shuffled through the paperwork, pointing at numbers that blurred together in my head. He wasn’t explaining much, just venting his frustration.

“You’re gonna hate this suggestion,” I told him, meeting his stressed gaze. “Call Beth. This is more her area than mine.”

“You’re right,” Jamie said, his voice a little lighter. “I do hate that suggestion.”

I gave him a small smile, hoping to lift his spirits. He picked up a paper from the bottom of the stack and pointed at it. “This,” he said with cautious optimism, “this will pull us out.”

I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but relief flickered across his face, so I figured it was progress. Suggesting Beth must’ve nudged him in the right direction. Jamie and Beth’s relationship was... complicated. Strenuous didn’t even begin to cover it—they couldn’t stand each other. Still, sometimes the friction sparked solutions.

“What was it you needed, Alex?” Jamie asked, his voice calmer now.

I hesitated. Jamie already had enough on his plate, and I didn’t want to add more. “Uh... I’m not going to be at dinner. Can you cover for me?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, though his furrowed brow hinted at confusion.

“Thanks,” I replied, slipping out of his room.

I made my way to Lee’s cabin, steeling myself for the inevitable teasing. Lee was my eldest brother, and while he had a knack for making light of everything, I knew he’d help me.

I knocked, then pushed the door open before he could answer. “Lee, I need help!”

“What’s wrong?” His expression was instantly serious. “What happened? Do I need to grab my rifle?”

A grin spread across my face. “Nothing like that. I just need to borrow a condom.”

“Borrow?” He raised a brow, his lips twitching with amusement. “You planning on returning it when you’re done?” He headed into the bathroom, rummaging through his medicine cabinet.

“Only if you want it back,” I quipped, leaning against the doorframe.

“I’ll pass,” he said, handing me a package. “We’re not that close.”

“Thank you,” I said, slipping the box into my pocket. “Please don’t say anything to Dad or Beth.”

Lee shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m not getting involved in that, Bitsy. Just glad you’re being careful.”

The childhood nickname made me feel like I was eight years old again.

“I gotta go,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” he called after me as I headed out the door.

Finally, I was ready—or as ready as I could be, not knowing exactly what Ryan had planned for the evening.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I stepped into the dim barn. There he was, waiting. My heart skipped a beat as I took him in. He’d made an effort—new button-up shirt, fresh jeans. I smiled. Guess he didn’t want to meet me smelling like a horse either.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice almost lost in the quiet. “Sorry if I kept you waiting.” Ryan’s eyes swept over me, his gaze lingering. “You’re worth the wait,” he murmured, stepping forward to rest his hands on my hips. He pulled me closer, and I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. Standing on my toes, I pressed my lips to his.

The kiss was just as hypnotizing as the first, soft but brimming with unspoken promises. When he broke away, his voice was low. “My truck’s out back. You ready to go? Not that I mind this...” He gave my hips a playful squeeze, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

I quirked a brow, letting him lead me outside. “You didn’t actually get a room, did you?”

He opened the truck door and helped me climb in. “No,” he admitted, “but the thought did cross my mind.” Sliding into the driver’s seat, he added, “Still have to be up at 4 a.m. to run cattle.”

“Right,” I said, my heartbeat picking up. “So...what did you come up with?”

“You’ll see,” he replied with a grin.

The truck rumbled to life, and we drove out into the field. The night stretched wide and clear, every star twinkling against the velvet sky. He parked and climbed out, heading to the back of the truck. I watched him rummage for something, curiosity bubbling.

By the time he came to my side, I’d already climbed down. His brow furrowed, a flash of disappointment crossing his face.

“Sorry,” I stammered. “I’m just so used to—”

“It’s okay, Alex,” he interrupted gently, his hand slipping into mine.

He led me to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. My breath caught. Strings of soft, golden lights lined the edge, illuminating a bed of blankets and pillows. It was cozy, thoughtful, and more effort than anyone had ever put in for me. “It’s perfect,” I whispered, my heart thundering in my chest.

Ryan’s gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You are.” Before I could respond, his lips met mine again, soft and deliberate. His hands found my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the tailgate. I slid back onto the cushions, bringing him with me without breaking the kiss.

The world faded away—the stars, the field, the night itself. All that mattered was this moment, here and now.

Ryan’s lips met mine again, but this time there was no rush, no urgency. The kiss deepened as his hands explored the curve of my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt, a barrier he was quick to remove.

He slid his shirt off in one fluid motion, and I couldn’t help but pause, taking him in. My lips parted as I traced his chest with my fingers, feeling every ridge and scar. He was rugged and beautiful, a man molded by the land he worked and the life he lived.

I raised my arms, letting him help me out of my top. The cool night air kissed my bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his touch. His lips found my neck, lingering in that spot that made my breath hitch, and I melted into him. His hands were steady, confident, as they slid the straps of my bra down my shoulders.

His kisses traveled lower, tasting the curve of my collarbone, then further still. When his mouth found my breast, a soft moan escaped me. He moved slowly, savoring each moment, each reaction he coaxed from me. His tongue teased one nipple, then the other, until I arched into him, silently asking for more.

Ryan shifted, his lips trailing down my stomach, stopping just above the waistband of my jeans. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire but filled with an unspoken question. My heart raced as I nodded, my consent clear.

He unbuckled my belt, the sound loud in the quiet of the night. His hands worked methodically, tugging my jeans and boots off in one smooth motion. I was bare before him, exposed in every way, but I didn’t feel vulnerable—I felt wanted.

Ryan’s breath was warm against my skin, each exhale sending shivers through me as his lips trailed lower, exploring with unhurried reverence. When his mouth found its destination, a gasp escaped me, sharp and involuntary. His tongue moved with purpose, tasting and teasing, drawing a soft moan from deep within me.

He shifted, his hands gripping my thighs firmly, holding me steady as his tongue delved deeper, mapping every inch of me. Then he found it—that perfect spot that sent a spark of electricity coursing through my body. My legs trembled against his hold, my fingers clutching at the blankets beneath me as I tried to ground myself.

Ryan’s movements were deliberate, each flick of his tongue and gentle press of his lips coaxing me closer to the edge. He seemed to savor every reaction, every sound that spilled from my lips, as if my pleasure were his sole purpose in that moment. His name tumbled from me in a cry as the tension inside finally shattered, the waves of release rippling through me.

I lay trembling, my breaths uneven, as Ryan’s lips pressed gentle kisses along my thighs, grounding me as I came back down. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something deeper, something unspoken but felt in every touch.

“Just as sweet,” Ryan murmured, his voice low and thick with desire, as he kissed his way back up my body. His lips brushed mine, soft and searching, grounding me as I floated back down from the high he’d pulled me into. My hands roamed over his chest, tracing the hard lines and flexing muscles beneath my fingertips. They drifted lower, finding the buckle of his belt.

I fumbled with it, my need building with each passing second. I ached for him, for more than this electric anticipation. Sliding my hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, I found him, hard and warm against my palm. He growled softly into my neck, his breath hot against my skin, as I stroked him—slow, deliberate movements that matched the rhythm of our hearts.

“Baby,” he rasped, his hand catching my wrist, “if you keep that up, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

I met his gaze, my voice steady despite the trembling anticipation coursing through me. “I don’t want you to stop.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he pressed his lips to mine before leaning back, settling beside me on the truck bed. His eyes shifted upward, taking in the star-filled sky as he spoke, his voice tinged with regret. “I know. But I didn’t have time to get to town.”

It took a moment for his words to click, and when they did, I sat up, reaching for my jeans. Fishing the small box from my pocket, I dropped it onto his chest before curling back beside him.

“Fortunately,” I murmured, a playful grin tugging at my lips, “I have two brothers who don’t ask too many questions.”

Ryan glanced at the small box on his chest, his lips quirking into a slow grin. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand like it was some kind of treasure.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said with a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with a mix of humor and affection. “You came prepared, didn’t you?”

I give him a smirk, my cheeks warming under his gaze. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”

He leaned closer, cupping my face gently, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You think of everything, don’t you? Guess I better make this worth your while.”

Ryan leaned in, capturing my lips with his in a kiss that reignited the heat between us into a roaring flame. He shifted slightly, discarding his boots and jeans with a sense of urgency that mirrored my own. His eyes, ablaze with desire, met mine as he positioned himself between my parted thighs.

The sound of the wrapper tearing was brief but electric, a prelude to what came next. He rolled the condom down his length with practiced ease, then leaned forward, his hands steady on my hips.

I hooked my leg over his waist, feeling every inch of him as he pressed into me slowly, deliberately. I held my breath, savoring the connection that had been building for what felt like forever. My fingers dug into his back, anchoring us as he sank deeper, filling the space between us completely.

Our bodies moved in unison, a perfect rhythm guided by the thundering beats of our hearts. Each thrust, each gasp, drew us closer to the edge until we finally reached it together, a shared moment of bliss that left us both breathless.

He collapsed against me, his weight comforting as our bodies intertwined in the aftermath. The silence between us was soothing, a tangle of legs and arms and the kind of peace I hadn’t known I needed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that with you,” Ryan finally broke the silence, his voice low and content as he rolled onto his back beside me.

I propped myself up on one elbow, gazing at his face with a teasing smile. “You? I’ve been dropping hints for years.”

Tucking myself against his side, I pulled the covers over us, letting the warmth settle in. “You must’ve fallen off your horse one too many times not to notice.”

[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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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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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.

[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.