#so facing my fear before the year is over

[sugardaddy-glucoseguardian]

Amazing yes

- Danny is visiting Gotham and the big ass lizard man is throwing a tantrum in the middle of the street. Danny who is used to his rogues doing the same shot when they wanna play fight just body's croc. Everyone is confused, croc is snapped out of it and instantly goes, fuck it. And throws down. Bats show up to croc and some feral meta out of towner rolling around throwing punches and snapping teeth at each other while growling.

- Danny is sick and tired of the smog in Gotham, between not being able to see the stars and Sam complaining about the pollution he wanted it fixed. Together with Sam, Tucker said nah fuck that, they went to Dr.Pamela Isley in Robinson Park. Ivy is very amused by the young adults that come into her park complaining about pollution.

She's actually intrigued when the girl has the same pull to the green she has. The flowers in the garden tilting towards her when she got angry.

- Danny HATED clowns. Freakshow made it an ingrained response. You can't control him if you aren't conscious. So when he goes to Gotham to visit Jazz at GU he sees the Joker and it ON SIGHT. No warning, just Joker monologuing in the street to some Bats and a crazy out of towner comes sprinting from an alleyway and just takes him out at the waist. Full body collision before Joker can even react to being tackled and point his gun the feral little shit is already punching his face in.

The Bats aren't sure if they need to rescue this civilian from the Joker or the Joker from the civilian. By the time they move to at least separate the two, the Joker is beaten black and blue and unconscious and the random guy is growling with bloodied fists hunched over his body like a wild animal defending its kill.

- Selina Kyle was expecting her haul tonight to be diamonds, maybe a ruby and this cute cat sculpture she saw yesterday. Her plans are completely derailed when a small whimper comes from the alley below her.

Quickly circling back she sees a little girl, probably 12 and softly glowing... melting. She quickly hurries down to her, she looks terrified and in pain.

"Hello, my name is Catwoman, can I ask what happened sweetie? And how can I help?" The little girl has green tears running down her face and Selina watches as she seems to shrink before her eyes, 10, 8, her eyes scream fear and Selina has no idea what to do. She presses the panic button Bruce gave her for emergencies.

"I-it hurts. Please, I don't wanna die, please it hurts, i don't wanna go again!" The little girl sobbed and Selina had a horrific realization.

This little girl was gonna die and there was nothing she could do to help her.

So she stayed and whispered comforting words and held her in her arms, smaller and smaller she shrunk, 6, 4, 2 she seemed to stop there. A sobbing glowing 2 year old with melted feet and dripping hands.

Bruce landed behind her. She could tell he didn't know what to do either. Finally Selina pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and the baby stopped crying, looking up at her with eyes far older than her tiny body and she collapsed into herself, all that was left was a small gemstone with swirls of blue and green cradled in her arms.

Selina sobbed. And Bruce held her as they mourned a child they never knew.

(Oops sorry was gonna go cute and it got away from me, I'm thinking dani will reform with Selina and Bruce taking care of her core and she eventually grows as a normal child instead of the forced growth she was originally created with. Also since she was actually 2yrs old that's how old she'd be when she reforms)

- Jazz moved to Gotham for an internship at a local therapy office, her goal being to gain experience and move to Arkham. Her liminal abilities have made her an empath. With low levels of compulsion. She was walking into work and some girl was just standing outside the building staring.

The emotions that rolled off her were, nervous, scared, angry, confused, excited, scared, determined. Jazz approached and carefully moved into her line of sight. She had shoulder length black hair, deep dark eyes, pale skin and looked to be of some possible asain desent. She was beautiful but looked at Jazz with the blankest eyes and emotionless face she's ever seen.

"Hi, my names Jazz and I work here. I don't know if you have an appointment you're working yourself up for or something, but I know therapy can be a scary experience for a lot of people. I can walk you through it if it'll help?" The girl opens her mouth then hesitates.

"How?" She whispers and Jazz feels relief and confusion though nothing shows on her face or body language.

Jazz assumes the question is how she knew? "Ah well, you looked like you needed some encouragement, you've already down the hardest part, you're here and looking for help." Again no expressions but emotions zap through the air, more confusion, weariness, and the breiftest hint of hope.

The girl slowly raises her hands and Jazz takes half a second to recognize the sign language.

Can you understand me?

She smiled and quickly thanked herself for learning signlanguage in highschool.

Yes! Can I help you get in?

She nodded and they walked in together. Jazz ended up staying for Cass as her translator and the relief pouring off of Cass was so strong she thought she was gonna cry just from being in range. Hopefully Cass gets the needed relief she's looking for in therapy. And maybe Jazz gets a friend out of it too.

- Jason is sick and tired of his siblings prodding making jokes that cause he was dead for a good chunk of his teen years he never got to sleep around or even go on a date.

So he tells himself he's gonna go to a bar, pick someone up and have a one night stand and get this shit over with so his siblings leave him alone. The bar was crowded and loud and Jason hated it.

The wall he was leaning against was sticky and the alcohol in his hand was only half drank. He couldn't relax and he felt so uncomfortable, this wasn't a stake out where he had something to focus on, he was supposed to be chatting and dancing and making out with someone. He knocked back his drink, annoyed with himself.

He left.

He came back three more times in the next week, each time he was just as uncomfortable and no one approached the dude who glowered in the corner of the room. No one except Danny.

Danny was a bartender and trying to make ends meet. Alcohol was easy to serve and he was strong enough no fights made it past a single punch before they were thrown out. He'd been watching the guy come and go for several days now and each time the guy looked like it physically pained him to come in. Danny wondered what the hell he was trying to do clearly forcing himself to come to a place he definitely didn't enjoy.

On the fifth time the guy ordered and moved to his wall Danny decided he wanted to know more. Curiosity killed the cat but you can't kill what's already dead.

"Hey man, what's with the face? You look like you've been dragged here against your will." Danny joked as he slid up next to the guy on his lunch break. The dude glanced down at him, clearly doing a once over of his body, top to bottom, and Danny raised a brow. Really? Dude was here for a lay and decided the best way to do that was to stand in the dark and glare?

"Wanna hook up?" He asked, well more like hurriedly demanded. Danny raised the other brow. Not that he wasn't interested but the guy looked like he was gonna throw up. Danny glanced at his drink, he knows he'd only had the one but the man was so clearly out of his comfort zone Danny felt like maybe the hookup should wait till the guy actually wanted to instead of looking like he was forcing himself.

"Hm, how about we start with names? Like hi, my name is Danny Nightingale what's your name?" The guy blushed from his chest to the tips of his ears. His shoulders curled in and he sheepishly answered, "Jason, names Jason Peters.. Sorry, didn't mean to jump you like that, im... trying to.." He trailed off, looking mortified. Danny giggled. Jason was cute ok?

"Well how about this Jason, ypu clearly aren't the type to pick up one night stands and I'm not sure why you think you need to. But if you wanna get laid that bad, pick me up tomorrow at GU and take me on a date. I'll see if we can get you laid." He smirked leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and walked away.

He hopes he will take him up on it.

Write below a Batfamily meets Danny Fenton story but choose the wildest relationship that you can think of that isn’t adoption or a romantic relationship

For instance:

- breaking into a building for a drug bust but they got the wrong building number and broke into Danny’s apartment.

- gets met over and over because Condiment King of all people continuously kidnaps him for plots

- was brought to the GCPD for wrestling Killer Croc at 3am high as a kite over a new fear gas drug that’s been making its rounds through Gotham.

- accidentally smacked the coffee out of Danny’s hands while catching a perp.

[bywons]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𖥔 PSH

𝖠𝖢𝖳𝗢𝗡𝗘────𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍

【 𝒪𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 】 𝓁 ’───𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝟏𝟒𝟏𝟑𝗐 ｡ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 ❛ 愛 ❜ 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇—𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋

스루 ܃ make sure to read until the end, & share your thoughts with me ! i hope ya'll will enjoy this :3

reb𝑙ogs ◇ 𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

park sunghoon disappeared from plain sight three years ago.

the boy you once loved so much, you would give him your heart and he was ready to give his. through shared kisses and intoxicating touches that sent a bolt of thunder through your bodies, you grew to love him even more.

and now you ache for him, your heart could never belong to anyone but park sunghoon. for the past three years, you have seen plenty of faces— even some so striking that you would consider dating them, if your heart hadn't belonged to sunghoon. you searched among the crowd of faces with an expecting heart to see his face popping up, but you had failed to see him anywhere.

so naturally, when one day your phone buzzes up at an unusual hour from an unknown number, claiming to be park sunghoon, you thought it was an awful prank. at first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you, a cruel trick of exhaustion or longing.

until something convinced you.

i don’t have much to explain, rose. i just want to see you.

he always called you by rose, your favourite flower.

i miss you, don’t know if you miss me.

god, you miss him more than anything.

you don’t want to invite him over, to let him see your vulnerable side. but you’re already so broken without him, and you take it as a sign from above— park sunghoon will finally be yours again.

the doorbell buzzes louder, and you realise you fell asleep on the couch while waiting for him, the news acting as a serenade in the background.

you hesitate. every rational part of your brain screams at you to leave it alone—to call someone, to ignore it, to do anything but walk towards the door. and yet, your feet move of their own accord, drawn forward by a force far stronger than fear.

the moment you unlock the door, a gust of cool night air rushes in, and there he stands.

park sunghoon.

exactly as you remember him. and yet—different.

he doesn’t say anything off the bat, and just stands there, staring at you with an emotion you can’t really figure out. your throat runs dry, before you step aside to let him in.

“—the city remains silent after the dreadful incident along the alley of the infamous club. the victims’ body is yet to be handed over to autopsy, but witnesses state, quote, it’s unbearable to stand such a sight—”

he sits down quietly before you on the couch. sunghoon watches you, the dim glow from the tv casting shadows across his face. his fingers tap idly against his knee, a familiar habit.

“so, you won’t ask me how i’ve been?” he finally says something, his dark locks of hair falling over his face just like old times. he looks exactly the same.

“should i?” you dig your nails into your palms, “would you even answer?”

his lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as his gaze locks onto yours. “i missed you.”

“you left without nothing,” you finally push out the words you’ve been wanting to say, “d-did you ever think about me?” your voice cracks.

sunghoon visibly gulps, a shadow of guilt taking over his features. he pushes himself closer to you, “you’re all that i think about, rose. you’re my love, i love you—”

“oh, save it,” you spit, your eyes welling up with frustrated tears. you just couldn’t take the man's crap talk after three whole years, “you don’t care about me, you never did! sunghoon you just disappeared and decided to come back after so long without a word—”

“i know, i can—”

“where were you, sunghoon?” your voice shakes. “i—i thought you were dead.”

his eyes flicker with something unreadable. “i can’t explain it. not yet.”

“not yet?” you let out a hollow laugh. “three years, and you can’t even give me a reason?”

he inches closer, closing the space between you. his fingers brush your cheek—chilling, familiar, and devastating. “i didn’t want to leave you,” he murmurs. “i had no choice.”

faces close, you search for something in his eyes,

your breath is unsteady, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you like a force you can’t fight. his words should anger you. they should send you into a fit of rage, make you shove him away, make you scream at him for leaving you in the dark all this time.

but his touch, his voice, his mere presence is enough to crumble all the walls you built over the past three years.

“you had no choice?” you repeat, your voice dripping with disbelief. “then tell me, sunghoon. what was so important that you had to disappear without a trace? that you had to make me think i lost you forever?”

he exhales sharply, jaw clenching. his fingers ghost down your arm, almost as if testing if you’ll flinch away. you don’t.

“rose, i—” he hesitates, his eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place. “i want to tell you. but not yet.”

not yet. again.

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “you always do this. keep me in the dark. make me feel like a fool for loving you.” your voice cracks at the last part.

his eyes darken. “you were never a fool for loving me.”

there’s just silence between the two of you again, the slow squeaking of the ceiling fan and the buzz from the news playing on the tv trying to fill it in.

“—hold on, i’m getting a call, hope this is an important source. heeseung you better not stop recording, we’re going to make big news—”

“then-” you hiccup, his cold touch along your forearm making you lose your eyes, “then prove it?”

“anything for you,” sunghoon whispers before he pushes his lips on yours, making your back crash into the couch. his featherlight touches on your skin, and you hiccup yet again. sunghoon clearly giggles into the kiss, his hands brushing off the hair from your face as his lips stay on yours.

the kiss is slow at first, almost hesitant before it turns into a need. you let him push your back completely against the couch, be on top of you. his fingers tangle in your hair, his touch igniting something primal in you. when his lips part from yours, he trails kisses down your jaw, your throat, sending shivers through your body.

“rose, i missed you,” he murmurs against your skin. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you giggle at his words, head turning towards the low humming tv as sunghoon continues loving you.

“—now reporting live from the crime scene, yet another body with similar m.o has been discov—”

you try not to pay much attention to the news, and focus on your lover, who’s busy pressing kisses on your face. he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of old times.

his breath is warm against your skin, his lips parting as he hovers over the pulse point at your neck. your heartbeat pounds beneath his touch, and for a brief moment, you think he hesitates.

then— a sharp gasp leaves your lips as his teeth barely graze your skin.

something about it feels wrong.

too sharp. too precise.

a sudden flash from the television catches your attention.

“—newfound horror. the victims were found with two puncture wounds on their neck… eerily similar to cases seen in vampire folklore—”

your blood runs cold as realisation settles in, you slowly push sunghoon back by his muscular shoulders, just right enough to glimpse at his eyes.

he refuses to look directly at you, maybe because he already predicted your reaction to this, or maybe he is looking at you— you simply cannot register anything as your blood runs cold.

sunghoons eyes glow red in the dark, white and sharp fangs baring out. his neck and face looks paler than ever, as if he's painted white.

you just lay there, shaken in fear, unable to do anything on your own but whimper his name. he coos at you, leaning down towards your neck.

“don’t worry, y/n,” he whispers, kissing the crook of your neck once more, “i love you, you won’t end up like them.”

the channel roars.

“—the polices’ advice is to stay indoors as often as possible, and immediately file a report if you come across suspicious activities—”

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission

taglist────open nets @/k-labels @k-films @kflixnet CLICK ME

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 11

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), uhh badly proofread Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: hii i know i know i promised this yesterday but i nearly had a panic attack so i couldn't, my bad. i'm good now! please enjoy this before paige's last game at XL :((

-

Before London

“So as everyone can see, here we have a list of statistics showing the viewership per video and definitely can see an increase from last year, content with Paige seems to do extremely well like we…”

Linda’s voice blends into the background sounds of cutlery and plates and chatter filling the dining hall. For some reason my boss thought an impromptu media team meeting was in order and showed up to College Park Center unannounced. She wanted to catch up on what sort of content attracted most viewership, and to evaluate what worked and what didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less - all I knew is I was doing a good job, fantastic even. I’m not sure why I had to sit through something I already knew just to have Linda reiterate it to me. It wasn’t like me to be resistant to a meeting, or to praise from my superior but I was far too distracted.

My eyes involuntarily keep travelling to the table on the far right where Paige was sitting with her teammates, voice echoing around the walls of the building. A sound I fear I might never get tired of. The blonde is leaning back on her chair, chugging water, biceps more prominent than usual after spending all morning in the weight room. I knew this because she had driven me to work, despite having time off saying she needed to lift. I knew it wasn’t in her schedule as I had, almost accidentally, memorised it. Still there she had been, outside my door with a hazelnut latte, always somehow the perfect temperature whenever she brought me my coffee order. I hated when it was too hot.

As if sensing me, her blue eyes shift from Arike to me, locking with my gaze. Immediately I blush, trying to hide the smirk growing onto my face. But I can’t, so I cover my mouth with my hand to hide it from the team, particularly Linda, Paige’s mouth twisting into a bright smile in response. Yet we don’t break eye contact, keeping our eyes on each other.

Linda had been surprisingly credulous to my claims of a migraine when I missed work just a couple days ago. Since the night the blonde turned my entire world on its head. I hadn’t been able to think of anything ever since except the weight of her lips on my skin, her eager touch and starved eyes. I had been craving her every second since we drove back to Dallas. I needed more. As much as it pained me to admit.

With a grin on her face, Paige grabs her phone and types for a while, my screen lighting up with a notification.

Paige

Did i say how beautiful you look today yet

I blush, tapping underneath the table.

You did. A few times in the car.

Matter of fact she had been repeating it between sentences, and almost crashed the car twice because of how badly she had been staring.

Gotta tell you again

Takin my breath away all the way from over there

Finest girl I swearrrrr

I can’t help but smile.

You look like you’re breathing fine 🙄

I lift my gaze, seeing the blonde rubbing her chest and looking at her phone with a smirk.

Trust me ma

What Linda doin here?

Some sort of unnecessary meeting, I’m not sure why.

What time you getting off work?

I have a couple things to do after this but if you’re done you can go home, I’ll take a cab.

Fuck no i’ll wait

I could do some stretchin

You should join me

I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head to myself.

Paige!!

What??? Would be good for those tense muscles yk

Could think of sum other stuff to relax you too 😏😏

With a scoff I glance at the blonde who’s already looking with a playful, devilish grin. I look at her scoldingly, watching as she raises her brows and bites her lower lip to kill the smile before pointing at her phone, showing me she wants me to reply.

Why do I have an idea of what that might be?

Yeah? 

“So what do you think Izara?” Linda asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Uhh… Of?” I murmur, placing my phone screen down onto the table, thighs burning with the memory of how good the blonde had made me feel just a few days before.

“Do you think we can reach our goal followers-wise or are we being too ambitious?”

I quickly pull myself together, though I’ve barely heard a word. “Certainly if we keep pumping out content every day.” I don’t actually even know what goal we’re talking about.

However, my answer satisfies Linda, her mouth twisting into a smile. “Excellent!”

“Excuse me,” I hum, getting up from the table to grab an extra bottle of water. Paige, who has been watching, does the same, unable to not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to me.

I feel a gentle bump on my arm, eyes immediately snapping to the girl who’s looking smug as I eye the bottles.

“Hey pretty girl,” she whispers, placing a hand on my lower back. I quickly glance back at the media team to make sure no one was looking. To my relief they’re all too busy leaning in to stare at Trey who’s showcasing our latest content on his phone.

“Hey you,” I reply, my voice soft, quiet so no one can hear. Paige stands behind me, eyes skimming the different bottles of drinks as if mulling over her decision on what to get. But I know better. She’s stalling to stay talking to me. We had barely had any time to spend alone, my mind too busy wrapped up with work, Paige spending every waking moment on the court trying to get her shot back.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, reaching over for the bottle and holding it in my hand. Paige thinks for a second, grabbing a bottle of gatorade. All I can do is stare at her hands, mesmerised. Perfect hands that made me feel so incredible.

“Uhh nothing, why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Paige’s ears turn red, as she clears her throat, the idea immediately getting the younger girl flustered.

“Y-Yeah okay Iz,” she whispers, voice trembling a little. The effect I have on the girl makes me smile. It pleased me to know I had so much power over her. Little did she know she held just as much power over me, I was just much better at hiding it. However, my cheeks turn a hint of pink thinking about the possibilities of what might happen once we get a moment alone.

“Okay Paige,” I smile, eyes stuck on her flushed face. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

-

Waiting a couple hours had turned out to be much harder than I had planned, the thought of Paige’s hands on my body enough to have me growing wet in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer to feel the younger girl on me. Paige had felt the same, which had led us to our current predicament, my back pushed against the door of the storage room, the girl kissing my neck feverishly as my hands roam her body. The door handle digs into my lower back painfully but I barely notice.

“Paige,” I whimper, but she silences me with a heated kiss, tongue slipping past my lips into my mouth. My kisses are needy, desperate, a quiet moan spilling out when Paige’s hand kneads my ass, my short skirt hiking up as she does.

“You’re so sexy ma,” the blonde groans, lips glistening as she pulls back to look at me. “Killing me in a skirt like that.”

“Wore it for you,” I tease. Paige melts, moaning just from my words.

My arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her back into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss by her hair. The blonde groans, lifting my skirt to squeeze the bare skin underneath, eyes opening to see the purple silk panties I was wearing. I hadn’t been prepared for the first time we slept together the way I liked to be, but after a meeting with my wax lady and a vigorous exfoliation routine last night I was prepared for her, my skin silky and smooth all for her from my head to my toes.

“Look at that,” she whispers, pulling back enough to admire the underwear sitting against my golden skin. “Goddamn.”

“Want you,” I hum, looking at her with round, pleading eyes. Paige takes a deep breath through her nose, groaning as she throws her head back. I know I’m driving her insane.

“We can’t,” she mumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. I’m taken back, slightly embarrassed. I never thought she’d reject me.

“Why not?”

Paige notices the surprise in my face, her blue eyes widening. “No, I want to. So fucking bad, you got no idea baby,” she starts, looking me up and down.

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask, getting annoyed which in turn makes my brows furrow.

“Iz I can’t just keep sleeping with you,” she sighs. “You’re more than that. You deserve more.”

I shake my head, pulling Paige back in by her sweaty T-shirt. She kisses me softly, nuzzling her nose into mine.

“I don’t care. I want you,” I repeat, the ache between my thighs nearly unbearable.

“I care,” the girl whispers, resting her forehead on mine. “Need to take you out on a date before we… y’know.”

I’m surprised, my eyes fluttering open.

“Need to do this right Izzie,” she hums, kissing the top of my head. “Need to take you out before I do all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

I nearly collapse at her words, grateful for the strength of her grip on my hips.

“Oh,” I say, feeling the blonde pull my skirt back down hesitantly.

“Please, lemme treat you right ma,” she pleads, kissing both my cheeks softly. “Lemme take you out. Been dying to, ever since I saw you. Please.”

-

Taking a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror once more. White shorts and a white oversized button up, both neatly pressed not a single wrinkle on them. I’ve really gotten tan here. I lean closer to add the signature diamond studs onto my ears, smoothing over the hair slicked back into a low bun. I check my nails one more time, making sure each one is short and filed up to my standards. No, not mine. Up to Izzie’s standards. I look good, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. For my gorgeous, perfect London girl.

I grab the huge bouquet of white lilies and head downstairs, toying with my silver chain as I knock on the door. I don’t remember the last time I had been nervous over a girl before Izzie. So much for my plans to stay celibate this season. Like clockwork, the door opens.

I feel breathless when I see her. She’s wearing a bronze coloured satin dress, the perfect contrast against her skin, with spaghetti straps and a slightly plunging neckline, her breasts on display just enough to make me wanna look for a little too long. The dress isn’t too tight, clinging to her curves in all the right places, the hem ending at her calves. Her skin glows from her arms decorated with gold bracelets, all the way down to her calves and feet, beautifully arched in matching sandals. Izzie looks stunning, glowing with the power of a hundred suns.

I let out a low whistle, unsure what to say. I feel flustered, nervous in front of her. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time all over again, two months ago in this same hallway. 

“Whoa,” is all I can say, my palms sweating already.

Izzie giggles and then she does something I’ll never get over. She simply tilts her head, sharp eyes sparkling at me, slender fingers reaching over and fixing the collar of my shirt. And my knees nearly buckle.

“We don’t need to go out,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss the girl. But she tuts softly, pulling back and placing two fingers on my chin to stop me sternly.

“Lipgloss,” she grins, pushing my face back by my jaw playfully. “And yes we do, took me three hours to get ready.”

I can see that, every strand of her black hair carefully set in uniform waves running down her back. All I can do is stare at her, mouth open.

“Paige?” Izzie giggles.

“What?” I ask, cheeks bright red.

“The flowers?”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hand, handing them to the girl. “Oh yeah, these are for you,” I laugh awkwardly, nearly unable to look the girl in the eye.

“I love lilies,” she gleams, inhaling their scent and humming contentedly.  

“I know, you told me,” I smile, stepping in as she turns her back on me to put the flowers in a vase. My eyes travel from her hair downwards to the curve of her ass just for a moment, fighting the urge to pull up the hem and dive between her legs. I quickly glance up, trying to keep myself in check. Date first. Be respectful.

“You remembered,” Izzie smiles to herself, setting the flowers onto her dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The girl turns to me, throwing her hands around my shoulders and kissing me lovingly. 

“What about your lipgloss?” I mumble against her lips, one hand on her lower back, the other on her neck pulling her in.

“I’ll reapply,” she sighs. I loved the way she was, meticulous and disciplined. But my God did I adore the way she had loosened up around me, the way she seemed to have a newfound ease about her. How she arrived to work yesterday wearing pants and flats, giggling with her co-workers lightheartedly, the pearls of her laughter echoing around every room she entered. 

“Shit,” I pull back from the kiss with a struggle. “I got us a car baby, we should go.”

Iz whines in a way that pulls at my heartstrings, her brows furrowing in desperation, tracing her fingers up and down my arms, squeezing my biceps that had grown exponentially during my time in the league.

“You look so gorgeous,” Izzie hums, smoothing over my collar one last time, leaning close and pressing a kiss onto my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“C’mon,” I sigh. “If we don’t go now we ain’t ever gon leave.”

-

“Paige,” I gasp as she opens the car door for me and I realise where we are. 

“What? You like?” The blonde grins, offering her hand to help me out and watching my face for approval. I step onto the pavement, wrapping my arm around hers as we walk into the building, the doorman letting us in with a polite smile. We step into the gorgeous, high-end restaurant, Paige smoothly letting the hostess know that we had arrived. 

I had mentioned Monarch countless times in conversation, brought up how the customer from Dallas that left an irrevocable mark on me made me swear to dine there at least once in my life. It was on the pricier side, and I’d grown used to a certain lifestyle which my current pay couldn't maintain so I had been burning through my savings - it simply wasn’t in the budget. Except now, with this millionaire girl on my arm I suppose it did. Truthfully, I would’ve been happy with less. But I won’t lie that she really hit the nail on the head with this one. I mean she listened. Remembering my brother’s name, my favourite flower, now this? She really listened to me. I didn’t know it could be like this.

“Paige,” is all I can mutter out with a happy sigh, my mouth twisting to a smile. Paige tugs at her silver chain absentmindedly, her eyes flickering around the room before always landing back on me.

I slide myself into the booth, Paige following behind me, making me laugh.

“Paige, your plate is on that side,” I giggle, pointing to the set cutlery opposite of me. 

“I’ll ask em to move it over here,” she mumbles, her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me close so my side presses into hers, the pressure of her thigh on mine.

“Isn’t that gonna look a little silly?” I chuckle, watching as Paige reaches over the table and moves her entire table arrangement next to mine. I blush, looking around hoping no one noticed. This was a nice place. I could tell it wasn’t the blonde’s scene. Something about that made this even more endearing. It was all for me.

“Ion care if it does, it’s too far from you,” she whines, entangling her fingers with mine underneath the table. My eyes land on her blue ones, her face only a few inches from me. Paige licks her lips, her gaze flickering to my lips. I feel a familiar ache between my thighs return just from the sheer proximity of the blonde, and the smell of her cologne.

“Wanna kiss you so bad right now,” she whispers, both our breathing growing heavy. I nod, wanting the same. But we both knew it was better not to. After Luka was traded out of Dallas Paige was one of the biggest athletes in the entire city. A household name easily. We weren’t just sneaking around behind Linda’s back, we had to keep this on the low from the whole world. It’s not like we had to talk about it - we both knew it.

“Gotta wait,” I hum, jumping slightly as the waiter interrupts the moment, looking to take our orders. Paige, in her American manner, orders multiple side dishes and salads for us to share, the table filled with Wagyu Carpaccio and Octopus. But the real star of the night is the lamb, which the customer made me swear to get if I ever ended up at Monarch.

“Oh my Gosh,” I groan quietly, letting the meat melt into my mouth. I smooth the napkin on my lap, the luxurious linen smooth underneath my palm. Taking a sip of my Merlot, I notice Paige beside me, cutting the gorgeous lamb into multiple bite-size pieces before putting the knife down and beginning to eat with the fork. I watch, astonished, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

“You are so American,” I laugh, swallowing the wine and covering my mouth. The younger girl turns to me, confused.

“Whatchu mean?” She giggles but I eye her plate, rolling my eyes.

“Can you not eat with a fork and a knife at the same time?” I ask, raising my brows. Paige huffs, though the small curl a the corner of her mouth tells me she’s basking in my slightly condescending tone, the scolding lilt of my voice.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me your fancy English ways huh?”

“Oh my Gosh,” I sigh amused.

“The fork is in the wrong handddd,” she complains, continuing to eat, fork on the right hand. I make a mental note to teach her table manners before she meets my parents. Then, realising that she never would, decide to stay quiet. This is just a fling, a summer romance at most. A rebound - it’s what I tell myself to ease the slight panic in my chest when I thought more about what the end of the season would bring, me going back home to London, leaving my American girl here. My one summer in Dallas, cruel and much too short. Just a few months is all we’d ever get. Against my nature, I try not to worry about it, hoving the anxiety to some deep, dark corner of my mind, under all the other things I didn’t want to deal with.

The moment I notice my glass is empty, the blonde is already reaching for the jug of water and pouring me some. I watch closely, heart fluttering with affection.

-

Dinner is amazing, a dream come true. The food, of course, delicious. But even better is the satisfied smile on the dark haired girl’s face. The way her eyes gleamed every time she looked at me. The sound of her sweet laughter whenever I did anything she redeemed “American”. The slightly condescending manner with which she corrected my table manners, praising me every time I did something right. Every cell in me wanted to please her. Hear more of her “good job” and “that’s it”. Feel the hand on my shoulder squeezing, affirming her words. I was ecstatic, even more so knowing that this was just the first of many dates. That I would get to take Izara out for years to come, hear her praises forever if I played my cards right. And I desperately wanted this to be forever. I know I was going way too fast. But I couldn’t help my mind from picturing her in a white dress, playing with our children, waiting for me at home after practice.

“I’m so full,” Izzie sighs, leaning back against the booth and rubbing up and down my arm affectionately. “You did so good with this darling.”

I melt, my eyes nearly rolling back at her praise, never mind the pet name.

“Lemme order you some dessert,” I nearly whine, my plate finished much earlier than Izara’s.

The girl leans over and checks the dessert menu, quickly skimming it over and scrunching her face.

“You too full baby?”

“Could we just go out and get some ice cream from a stand?” The girl asks, her green eyes fluttering at me. How could I ever say no?

“You sure? They got some nice dessert here. Fancy,” I ask, flipping the menu over in my hand. I wanted the girl to have whatever she wanted. I wanted to give her the entire world.

Izzie nods, placing her hand on my thigh. “Don’t want fancy, just want some ice cream.” I’m surprised, thinking the fancier the better. Maybe I was wrong.

-

The Dallas night is still as hot as the day, but there’s a pleasant breeze in place of the scorching sun from earlier. Izara looks even more beautiful in the glow of the city lights and under the twinkling night sky. I can’t tear my eyes away, nearly running into a pole from staring at her so much.

“Could I taste yours?” Izzie asks, handing me her chocolate ice cream cone. Wordlessly, without hesitation, I give her my strawberry cone, honestly ready to turn around and order five more of them for her.

I watch closely as Izara’s tongue darts out to taste the ice cream, a jolt running down my spine to my core, with dirty thoughts flooding my mind.

“Mmh, this is delicious,” she murmurs.

“Take it,” I say without hesitation. Izzie hums, accepting my offer quickly. Almost as if she expected it. Something about it drove me wild.

We walk around the city, hand in hand, easily blending in with the crowd, not worrying about familiar faces, making sure that with every turn I was walking on the street side, keeping her safe. I felt proud walking side by side with Izara, knowing that people walking by knew she was all mine. That I got a girl like this, far from my league. I wanted everyone to know that she’s mine - having to keep this hidden would turn out to be much harder than I imagined. Still, the idea of this being our little secret felt exciting.

The breeze and the ice cream cause goosebumps to form all over Izzie’s arms, a slight chill running through her. I curse myself in my head for not bringing a sweater, making a mental note to never go anywhere without one for her from now on.

“You ever miss London?” I ask, pulling her closer by her waist out of the way of someone walking by.

“No,” she quickly replies, surprisingly bluntly. I’m taken aback.

“Not at all?”

Izzie shakes her head. “Too many bad things in London.”

I immediately understand what she means. Jasper. At least the desperate phone calls had seemed to stop.

“You really don’t miss anything?”

The dark haired girl thinks for a while. “Well, I miss the chocolate. Nothing here tastes like Cadbury.”

We walk around, eager to finish the chocolate ice cream Iz ordered, but I slow down, trying to match the pace with which she’s eating out of politeness. My blue eyes roam her face, trying to memorise each little detail. Her dark, perfectly arched brows, long lashes darkened with mascara, plump lips with only a hint of the lipstick from earlier, fading from eating the ice cream. Her dark curls stick to her neck, desperate to escape the carefully shaped waves, golden necklace dangling at her collarbone. I reach over, my cold fingers making the girl jump when they adjust the clasp, dragging against her skin from the base of her neck to the back.

We come to a stop, Izara’s green eyes lined with black glimmering, her face turning different colors as ads flash red, blue, green on a screen by the sidewalk. The words spill from between my lips faster than I can think, let alone stop myself.

“I really like you Iz,” I murmur, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I mean, I think I’m fallin’ for you.”

Her breath hitches, eyes softening only for a moment, and then widening. With surprise? With panic? I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t something you said on a first date. I wanted to smack the back of my own head for that. I quickly look up, in a momentary prayer hoping God would let me rewind just 20 seconds. But no one answers my request.

“Shit, I’m sorry if it’s too much. You don’t gotta say anything okay?” I tell Izzie, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s okay love,” she smiles, thumb brushing against my skin comfortingly. However, I see a hint of hesitation on her face. “But Paige I thi-”

“Look, let’s just forget I said that aight?” I ask, my chest aching, begging to God I didn’t just ruin this before it could even start.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, trying to comfort me. But I could tell she felt uneasy about something. “I think we just gotta remember that we need to be really careful about this, yeah?”

I sigh nodding. She’s right. “Yeah.”

“I mean the stakes aren't the same for you and me. If we get caught,” she starts, letting out a heavy breath. “I’ll be back in London in no time. You however would be completely fine.”

I nod, wanting the girl to know I was really hearing her out. “Gon be really careful okay?”

“No slip ups.”

“No ma’am,” I answer reassuringly.

“And you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Arike, not Lou, no one. They can’t know.”

“I agree,” I tell the girl. “Look, I meant what I said. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be.”

The girl smiles, for a moment I think there’s a hint of sadness there, but it’s gone just as fast as it appeared. “Today’s been… amazing.”

I bite my lower lip, hand coming to her lower back just for a moment. There was nothing in this world that felt as good as hearing her praise. Maybe winning the national championship. Top two things I’ve ever experienced.

“Wanted it to be special for you, Iz,” I hum, blushing a little. Just as she’s about to answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Trey,” she murmurs. Of course it is. I can’t help but roll my eyes, watching as she raises the phone to her ear and answers. That’s how we walk back to the car, the girl next to me talking animatedly on the phone about whatever, my irritation growing with each moment. I knew they were friends. But everytime she giggled or laughed at whatever the man on the phone was saying, my jaw clenched and breathing grew heavier.

“Okay, Trey I really must go. I’ll see you in a couple days,” Izzie, who had been trying to politely end the call, says. I hear Trey’s defiant protests all the way from the driver’s seat, making me want to grab the girl’s phone and hang up for her.

Iz laughs politely at whatever he said. “Treeyy, I’ll talk to you about this at work okay? Alright, bye now.”

Finally, she hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it might be about work but he was just calling to explain about some sort of couch he was considering getting,” Iz chuckles, finally turning her gaze to me.I feel my annoyance settle down the moment her eyes land on me. Having her attention just had the effect of soothing me. Still, it bothered me that the girl was so oblivious to Trey’s obsession with her. I sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“What?” Izzie asks, noticing my irritation as we sit in the parked car.

“You know he likes you, right?”

Izara rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that again.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

I turn to her, raising my brows. “You prolly don’t see it but I do. He’s always calling or texting you, following you around or tryna touch you. All the time. He obsessed, trust.”

Izzie scoffs, turning to me. “I think you’re just reading into it too much.”

I shake my head. “He likes you.”

She looks like she's about to get defensive, but then her face softens. “Well, even if he does, I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask, my voice growing needy.

“No darling,” she hums quietly, reaching over and placing her dainty hand on mine. “I couldn’t care less about Trey.”

My heart flutters, the warmth in my chest spreading all over my body, chills forming underneath her touch. All the frustration and annoyance that had been growing are replaced with affection now that I feel reassured

“Yeah?” I ask carefully, nearly flinching at how whiny it comes out.

Izzie smiles, leaning over the center console and kissing my cheek. I catch a whiff of the pear and lavender notes of her perfume, my head spinning.

“Yeah.”

I lean over too, my lips finally crashing against hers, both hands holding her face gently like a baby bird, doing everything in my power not to disrupt her. Her lips taste like strawberries, and a hint of red wine from dinner. The wine had loosened Izzie up, her body turning into putty in the passenger seat just from one kiss. 

Her hands wrap around my neck, scratching at the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. I groan, arousal growing quickly between my thighs. A passing car honks, reminding me of our surroundings and the fact that the windows were not tinted. At the sudden realisation, I pull back abruptly, wiping my lips. 

Izzie looks breathless, cheeks flushed and lips parted and glossy. 

You wanna come to mine, ma?” I ask, or rather plead. The thought of getting to bring her home after had been the only force to give me the strength to keep my hands to myself all night.

“Yes,” she simply exhales. I feel a thrill, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to head towards our home, my hand never leaving her thigh, mind filled with the thoughts of lifting the skirt and diving into her.

-

My chest heaves as we climb the stairs, Izara’s heels tapping against the marble and echoing in the corridor. As I open the door, I let the dark-haired girl in, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

“Whoa,” she gasps. Stepping inside after her, I watch her face brighten as a trail of red rose petals on the floor leads all the way to the bedroom, just as I had set them before picking her up.

I step closer, pressing my front against her back, leaning down to kiss her neck as my hands find their position on her waist. I loved that even in heels she was a few inches shorter than me. Her body melts into me quickly, the curve of her ass pressing into my hips. The satin is smooth and cool under my fingertips, and her neck smells like her perfume and the fruity hair products she uses. Guava?

“You did this?” she asks, her voice gasping as my lips glide against her neck, feeling for her pulse under my kisses. 

Finally, I find the steady beating on the side of her long neck, my lips wrapping around it and sucking. Izzie exhales softly, her hands finding mine at her waist.

“Mhmm,” I hum, nuzzling my nose into her ear before kissing it feverishly. I needed her so desperately, like I had been travelling the desert for days and finally found an oasis filled with fresh water and sweet fruit and cool shade. I’m surprised I’m even able to stand upright.

“Oh so you knew I’d be coming over? That’s how you see me?” Her voice is stern, sending a jolt through my body. It makes me want to get on my knees and apologize, repent.

“N-No baby, I mean I was hopin’ but I didn’t assume. Iz, I swear I don-”

I’m joking, Paige,” she laughs, craning her neck to look into my face, an amused smile on her lips. My cheeks turn red as I laugh at myself.

I walk the girl forward, following the rose petals into the bedroom. They reach the bed, the white sheets decorated with the flower petals as well. Izara looks around, a smile on her face. I feel the ache between my thighs grow knowing I had made her happy.

Before I can say anything, she flips around to face me, kissing me heatedly. Her mouth is wide open against mine, tongue circling mine and fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Lemme light the candles,” I hiss, furrowing my brows and trying to pull away. But Izzie pulls me in by my collar, kissing me again.

“Fuck the candles,” she murmurs and, to my surprise, walks me backward into the bed.

I crash onto my back, Izzie pushing me down by my chest. “Let me dim the lights,” she says, but I grab her hand.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my brows furrowing. “Wanna see you baby.”

She hesitates for a moment, but I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it gently. “Please.”

Izzie pulls her hand back, convinced by the simple gesture, and reaches behind her back to her zipper. She unzips the dress far too slow, driving me insane. I wanted her now. So I whine, furrowing my brows and squirming on the bed, but the girl only shakes her head, slipping one strap off her shoulder. I nearly pass out.

“Patience,” Iz tells me, her voice low and gravelly. I can’t look away, wetting my lips with my tongue as I watch the second strap fall from her shoulder, the dress finally hitting the floor.

“Oh shit,” I murmur to myself, my boxers growing wetter and wetter the moment I realise she wasn’t wearing a bra at all, her body only covered with black lace panties. My gaze is stuck on her chest though, her round breasts covered in goosebumps. Breathing heavy, I sit up, mouth watering to wrap my lips around her hard nipple, to knead the skin.

“Nuh uh,” Izzie snaps, pushing me back down onto my back. I feel a thrill, surprised to find how much this turned me on. I was so used to being the one in charge, I didn’t even know how insanely hot it would be for the dark haired girl to be giving me commands. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have known from the way my core throbbed everytime she demanded something from me.

“Iz,” I groan, watching as her nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, painfully slowly. I feel like I might pass out.

“Remember what I said baby,” she hums, straddling my hips, thighs becoming even thicker on both sides of me as she sits down on them. Izzie leans down, lips hovering over my ear, hot breath tickling it. “Patience,” she whispers, and then ghosts my skin, leaving me writhing.

Finally she pulls my shirt open, revealing the white sports bra underneath. Her long nail drags from my neck downwards, to my chest, and finally to the muscles of my abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whine, watching the way her eyes darken as she gazes down at me. My hands come to her hips, easily reaching over to knead her ass. To my relief, she lets me, exhaling heavily and throwing her head back as I feel her skin. My hands feel up her sides, to her breast, kneading them in each hand and bucking my hips to look for any relief on my soaked core.

My chest heaves vigorously, right hand dragging downwards, down the skin of her stomach, fingertips dipping into the band. I needed to feel her. Now. I was dying, and I needed to make sure she didn’t feel like I did, desperate and throbbing.

“No,” Iz says, grabbing my wrist. I look at her pleadingly, eyes nearly welling up at the thought of how wet she might be.

“Please,” I whine. “Ride my fingers ma.”

Izzie’s eyes flutter shut at this, but sternly, she shakes her head. leaning down to kiss me. It’s sloppy, our tongues meeting in heated movements, spit covering both our mouths. The girl on top of me continues her open mouthed kisses, finding her way from my neck downwards. It’s then I realise what she’s about to do, the puddle between my legs growing unbearable.

I maneuver upward on the bed, too wet to notice the nervousness in the girl’s eyes when she starts kissing along the band of my shorts, hands coming to pull them down.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, my entire body shaking with need. I had been dreaming of this moment, spent many hours lying in my bed with my hand between my legs imagining what her green, sharp, catlike eyes would look watching up at me.

She leaves me in my boxers, nails digging into my inner thighs as she spreads my legs apart.

“Please,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut from how badly my cunt is soaking through the white boxers.

“What’s wrong my love?” Izzie asks, voice so sweet it’s bordering on condescending as she leans down between my legs, kissing my thighs, biting the skin. The wine had made her bolder, more liberated. It drove me insane.

“Need you baby,” I whine, bucking my hips. It’s no use, the dark haired girl’s hands holding my body still.

“What do you need from me darling?” She asks, fingertips playing with the band of my boxers in a way that made me want to flip her over and take her this very moment.

“Shit,” I hiss to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Baby please. touch me. Gon’ die if you don’t.”

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

She’s pressing kisses on top of the soaked fabric of my boxers now, brushing lightly against my clit. I need more, so insanely bad. I feel like I might explode.

“Mhm,” I whimper, my voice shakier and needier than I liked - not that I cared much in this very moment.

“Tell me baby,” she smiles, looking up at my scrunched up face, slowly pulling down the last layer of fabric between her and where I needed her most.

“I-” I’m stuttering, overwhelmed, feeling like I might cum just purely from the sight. “Your mouth, mama, please.”

As I say the words, she pulls my boxers down, and begins to kiss around my wet cunt, everywhere but where I need her the most. Still, I’m moaning like crazy, knowing there must be a few concerned neighbours listening by now. I couldn’t care less.

Finally, the dark haired girl touches my clit, starting with small kitten licks. 

“That’s it, holy shit,” I gasp, hands coming down to her hair, trying to maintain the urge to yank it wherever I want her.

“Mhmm,” she moans against my core, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking gently. 

“Fuck, you’re so- holy shit,” I murmur, unable to think straight, legs already shaking, chest heaving uncontrollably. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, as she looks up at me. my thighs on each side of her face.

“Taste so good,” she mumbles, a blush on her cheeks from the filthy words. Still, she keeps going, the vibrations of her moans bringing me closer and closer. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to start spreading in my abdomen, making my pussy throb around nothing as her tongue flicks back and forth in my folds.

“Make me feel so good, fuck baby, look at you,” I praise, my voice high pitched and whiny. “Look so fuckin’ pretty between my le- aw shit.”

I feel it, already growing hotter and hotter, the fire inside me making my muscles tense.

“I- I’m so cl-” I whimper, yanking on the girl’s hair.

“Baby,” Iz moans, wrapping her lips around my clit while her tongue flicks against it, making it impossible to hold back.

“Keep doin’ that, don’t stop. Don’t st-” I cry out, legs trembling and muscles tensing as the girl between my legs keeps pushing me closer and closer. “Shit mama, I’m gon’ cum.”

With that, I tip over the edge, pleasure crashing through my body, writhing and moaning. The orgasm is just as intense as it was fast, making my grip tighten around Izzie’s hair as she keeps up with the movement of her tongue.

As I come back down, the dark haired girl climbs back up, kissing me with authority. I feel embarrassed, from how wet her face is, and most of all from how fast I came. Couldn’t have been more than two minutes. It was something about her that made me yield, completely submit to her, my body too weak to fight it.

“Well that was quick,” Izzie giggles as she pulls away from me. I roll my eyes, flipping the girl on her back.

“Just wanted it to be your turn fast ma,” I mumble, beginning to kiss her neck.

-

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, P- Paige, fuck,” I cry out, tears filling my eyes as Paige presses on my lower back, pinning my hips down against the mattress. Her fingers are buried deep inside me, slipping in and out of me with a rapid pace, making my pussy drip all over the sheets. It was overwhelming, the strength of her fingers something I had never experienced before - what didn’t help was the three times I had already cum after she finished.

“Just one more, I promise. Swear baby. Can feel how much you’re throbbing around my fingers,” Paige coos, pressing sloppy kisses onto my sweaty back before sitting back up and kneading on the skin of my ass to get deeper inside me. Something about her filthy words made me willing to keep going, my orgasm building quickly from how sensitive I had been left after the past couple hours.

“Baby,” I cry out, grabbing the sheets desperately, tears spilling down my cheeks into the cotton blanket underneath me, sticking to my skin. 

“So perfect,” the blonde groans, eyes watching closely the way my pussy molded around her fingers, stretched out just for her, gushing around the long digits slipping in and out.

“P- I’m gonna-” I gasp, back arching as the muscles inside me coil tighter and tighter.

“C’mon ma, lemme make you cum,” she moans, leaning back down and kissing my ear, her hot breath sending chills all over as her fingers keep pumping into me. “So fuckin’ gorgeous you know that?”

With a high pitched whine, the coil finally snaps, my core clenching around her fingers as she makes me cum for the fourth time that night. My entire body trembles, hands grabbing the sheets desperately. The blonde brings her free hand to mine, long digits entangling with mine comfortingly.

“That’s it, fuck, look at you,” Paige murmurs into my ear, talking me through it as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I feel sore, tired, but in that moment everything else is forgotten, except the ecstasy taking over my entire existence, and the blonde’s praise in my ear.

“You are so fucking sexy,” the blonde whispers into my ear, slipping her fingers out of me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. In a haze, I nustle myself into her side, still attempting to slow down my rapid breathing.

I chuckle, finally opening my eyes and flipping onto my back. I couldn’t believe how many times she had just gotten me off. Most of all I couldn’t believe I let her do that all to me with all the lights on, and enjoyed it too much to even care. 

We both lie in each other’s arms, completely naked. Paige’s blonde hair is falling out of her bun, sweat glistening against her bare arms, covered in veins from the strain. She’s breathing loudly through her nose, watching my face. Surely I looked horrendous, makeup all over my face, hair fully out of place, curls wild and unruly. But the younger girl’s blue eyes continue to stare, soft and adoring. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, loaded with emotion - feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige whispers, nuzzling her nose into mine. My heart flutters almost painfully. At that moment I know - I’m in trouble. That leaving Dallas behind after the season is over won’t be as effortless as I had hoped. I decide to worry about that later, wrapping my leg around the blonde and pressing my naked body against hers.

“So are you,” I murmur, letting Paige cocoon me with her big arms.

"One more time ma, please?"

-

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[leashybebes]

wip wednesday

tagged by @hereghostslive and uhhh, well. guess this is happening. heard you guys like vampires so here's some vampire to go with your vampires. more of this

It's an apartment building, so there are plenty of competing smells - other residents, visitors, food, animals. But the smell of Evan's blood is easy to distinguish, to follow up a couple of flights and along a corridor. He presses his palm flat to the door, every bit of him aching to be on the other side.

It almost feels like he's willed it when the door opens. There's Evan, a laundry bag in one hand, his bright blue eyes widening, surprise in every line of his body.

"Tommy? What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

Tommy can smell the blood under his skin, can hear his heartbeat, can feel the warmth radiating off him, the vitality, the life.

"Do you wanna - "

Tommy cuts him off before he can finish the invitation. "Do you have a death wish?" He can hear the edge of the snarl in his own voice and Evan frowns, drawing back a little, dropping the bag at his side.

"What?"

"You don't invite a vampire into your home, Evan."

"But you - "

"What? I go to the bank so you think I'm - what? Tame?"

Evan folds his arms over his chest and frowns. "The other night, I thought you seemed like a nice guy."

Tommy runs a hand over his face. "I nearly killed your friend today. Handsome guy, dark hair. Cute mustache."

"Wh - what?"

And there's the fear he didn't smell before. Crazy that it didn't show up when a vampire arrived unannounced at his door, but one little mention of the friend and Evan's flooded with dread.

"He touched you. And it made me - "

Evan's hand tightens on the door. He should be slamming it in Tommy's face right now, should be calling the authorities or finding something sharp and wooden. He swallows a little convulsively instead and asks, "Tommy, why are you telling me this?"

Tommy digs his fingernails into his palms, breathes in that heady scent, fights like hell against the descent of his fangs. "In two hundred years, I've never tasted anything like you. Don't go back to the bank, Evan."

not onward tagging because it's heading towards the end of wednesday in my time zone and my eyes are already half closed. if you have something to share, consider this your tag

[agwitow]

"Rumours are always so exaggerated," the boy said with a wry smile. "Ma might've been a heroine, but it's been years since she wielded a weapon."

The old woman frowned. Her eyes scanned him, head-to-toe. "You're too young to be her son."

He smiled. "I suppose getting rid of all of those soldiers and mercenaries stopped rumours from spreading about her other children."

"Other children?"

"I'm the third, ma'am, with two younger after."

"Huh." The old woman studied him again. His auburn hair wasn't a common colour, nor were the golden eyes, but the shape of his face, the way his smile lilted to one side, and how his eyes sparked with silent laughter were all-too-familiar. "Who is your father then?"

"The same as all my siblings. Ma and Pa are still as much in love as when they first ran off together."

"Huh..."

He chuckled. "Seems the rumours don't give any thought to why Ma ran off in the first place."

She smiled in return. "Seems so, lad. What brings you down this way?"

He scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Normally Ma and one of my sisters come by to get the supplies, but it's the littlest one's first moulting, so Ma didn't want to leave her. And the oldest two are away right now, so that leaves me."

"What about your father?"

"Ah... People tend to be frightened when they see him. Last time he went, we had mercenaries coming by for months. He was especially annoyed by that, as Ma was pregnant with the littlest one."

"Well, suppose it's for the best, then, that you came instead. Have you gotten everything you need?"

"Well... if you'd be so kind as to point me to where Missus Deirdre is laid, I need to lay the offering out before I head back."

She nodded. "This'll be your first time visiting your grandmother. I can take you there."

"Oh! You don't have to go to such trouble on my account! Just tell me where and I'll find my way."

"Nonsense. Deirdre was a dear friend. It's only right I show her grandson the way myself." She accepted no other refusal and called for one of her own grandchildren to mind the store while she was away.

It wasn't far, not after the distance he'd traveled to get there, but it stood apart from the little village in a copse of trees on a small hill, lifted just high enough that the sea was a thin, silver-blue shimmer on the horizon. When he'd paid his respects, he placed the palm-sized honey-oat cake on the stone marking her resting place.

"You'll be heading back then, I presume?" the old woman asked.

"Yeah. It's best not to linger too long."

She nodded slowly, her brows pinched as she mulled something over. "Lad, you let your mother know that those of us who still remember don't blame her a whit for turning down the king. Tell her Old Gwen misses her. She, and all of you, are welcome to come back. And even if your father's a frightening man, we'll get used to him in time."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll let her know. Though... Pa is a bit more than just 'frightening' for most."

"Ah... a Northern Barbarian, then?"

The young man laughed. "No. Even they are scared of him."

She gaped at him in disbelief. "How can that be? The Northern Barbarians are the fiercest fighters for six kingdoms around! They only fear growing weak, the restless dead, and their gods!"

"There's one other thing they fear," he replied.

"Lad, there hasn't been a dragon in these parts for over a century."

"Well, I suppose that means the Northeners don't spread rumours much. Pa will be pleased to know."

She sputtered her shock. "Wha- b- wh... how?"

He shrugged. "They met while Ma was still doing all the heroine things. When the king wanted to marry her, they ran off together."

"But... that would make you..."

"A dragon-spawn? Aye."

Fear lit in her eyes and she took a step back. "I've meant no disrespect, goodsir."

He sighed. "You needn't treat me any different. I'm still Brianna's son. Deirdre's grandson."

She shook her head, hands trembling. "How could I dare?"

"This is why my sisters went adventuring with the Northeners in hopes of finding husbands. Just 'cause we've got scales and a second form doesn't mean we aren't people."

"Dragons are second only to the gods."

"Right..." he smiled sadly. "I'll ask you kindly to not spread it around, about Ma, Pa, and my siblings."

She nodded quickly. "Of course, goodsir! I'll not tell a soul."

"... Thanks." He paused, frowning, then pulled something out from inside his tunic. He pressed it into her hands. "Take this. You were kind and treated me well, even though I was a stranger."

"What is it?" she asked, opening her hands to stare at the orange-yellow rounded triangle. It was cool to the touch, like metal. The top side was as rough as stone, while the underside was smooth and pearlescent like the inside of a shell.

"A token. And a promise. I'll not cause you any harm."

Her eyes widened. "Is this one of your scales?!"

He scratched his head and grinned sheepishly. "Aye. Did I do it right? Pa said offering a scale as a sign of friendship had to be a serious thing, but it's just one of the scales I kept after my last moulting."

"I've done nothing to deserve such a thing!"

He shrugged. "Well now, isn't that for me to decide?"

She stared at him, emotions swirling across her face too quickly to pick them out.

"I'll be off now. And I'll tell Ma to stop by and say 'hello' the next time she comes out for supplies," he promised. "Until then, take care, Missus Gwen!"

With that, he turned and headed off. She could only watch his retreating back in shocked silence. Once his figure was little more than a distant blot of auburn, she turned to the grave of her friend. "I always said Brianna was a troublemaker, but who knew she'd run off with a dragon!"

"So where are you from, young man?"

"To the north, by the sea." "That's a good joke, lad. The only building there is that old cottage. They say some heroine gave birth to an illegitimate heir there and kills any man or beast that walks within a mile of the place. Killed the king's army, they say."

[zorodrafts]

PUMPKIN DOMAIN .ᐟ ✷ ﹙sukuna﹚

⎯⎯⎯ ぉ｡ dad!sukuna × fem!reader

𝒄. pumpkin being a brat, dad!sukuna is actually patient in this ｜ 𝒈. fluff ⟢ 748 words

𖹭 notes .ᐟ hi!! ik i disappeared and all, but... i think i'm back? i can't really say that, because, i'll be honest, this blog depends on my mood, especially since i'm not that into anime anymore. but i hope you can understand and be patient with me :( i'm writing a few things so i hope you like it!

Sukuna never thought he deserved a blessing like this. Like you.

You were his angel—his perfect match. Beautiful, brilliant, kind, and endlessly patient. Somehow, you always saw the best in him, even when he struggled to see it himself. Sometimes, he wondered why you stayed. How could someone as radiant as you choose a man like him—someone with a past drenched in blood and regret?

And fatherhood? That was something he never imagined for himself. A ruthless, relentless force of nature, feared by all… reduced to this.

Which begged the question—why was he sitting cross-legged on the floor, squeezed into a dress that barely fit, his face covered in glitter (an attempt to “highlight” his markings), wearing earrings that dangled awkwardly and a tiara that kept slipping off his head? And, more importantly, why was he being bossed around by a six-year-old?

“Daddy, you’re doing it all wrong!” his daughter huffed, standing up dramatically for the fourth time that hour. “You have to hold it like this!”

He sighed, utterly defeated, shifting uncomfortably after sitting in the same spot for what felt like forever. “Pumpkin, I’m trying, but this cup is way too small for my hands.”

Tea parties were not his strong suit, but for her? He'd endure anything.

Let her paint his nails? Sure—even if more polish ended up on his fingers than his nails.

Try a new hairstyle? Fine—even if she yanked his hair so hard, he was sure she’d pluck out a few pink tufts.

Cover his markings in paint? Whatever—though the last time, she’d used the wrong type, and it took weeks to fade.

But this? This was your domain. And today, you had left him to handle it alone.

“Ugh, you’re so useless…” she muttered, crossing her arms.

Sukuna scoffed, rolling his eyes as he yanked off the tiara. “And you’re the most annoying brat I’ve ever seen. Even worse than your mother…”

“I’m a what now?”

Your voice rang through the room, and suddenly, Sukuna’s four eyes went wide.

“Mommy! Finally!” Your daughter abandoned the tea party, racing toward you and latching onto your waist. She looked up at you with big, dramatic eyes, ready to tattle. “Daddy doesn’t know how to behave at a tea party! Look—he doesn’t even know how to dress or hold the cup right!”

“I swear I’ll burn down alive whoever invented these fucking tea parties—” Sukuna muttered under his breath as he got up, yanking off the ridiculous dress.

“Language!” your daughter scolded.

“And burn alive? I thought we agreed you were done with that?” You gave him a deadpan stare. Deep down, you knew he had changed. He wouldn’t do anything reckless… not anymore. Well, unless it didn’t affected the both of you.

Sukuna strode over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist while the other gently shoved his daughter away, keeping her at a distance. Then, without hesitation, he captured your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Why did you take so long?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth as he guided you toward the living room—still keeping your daughter at arm’s length.

“I ran into Shoko, and we grabbed some coffee. I guess I lost track of time.” You offered him an apologetic smile, knowing you had promised to be home earlier.

He hummed, pressing his nose into your neck and inhaling your scent. “I missed you…”

“Ew! Stay away from my mommy!” your daughter shrieked before launching herself at him.

Sukuna sighed, unimpressed, effortlessly catching her by the leg and holding her upside down like a squirming fish.

“Can you not, brat?”

She gasped dramatically, sticking her tongue out. “I’m Pumpkin! Take that back!”

You covered your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter as the towering, fearsome King of Curses held his tiny daughter like a ragdoll.

“You’re a fucking brat, that’s what you are—”

“Language!” she shrieked, still trying to land a hit on him.

“Oh, and by the way,” Sukuna added, carrying her toward the bathroom. “You’re the one cleaning all this glitter off me. Got it?”

“I don’t take orders from you!”

“Oh, you bet you do. I’m still your father, you little piece of sh—”

“LANGUAGE!”

Their voices faded down the hall, their playful bickering echoing through the house. You smiled, shaking your head.

Sukuna had never imagined himself as a father, let alone this kind of father. But here he was. And deep down, you knew—he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[amara-scott]

Never been loved.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin!female Reader Tags: Angst, Angst, Angst

Prompt: "You've never been loved, I can tell."

It would have been a beautiful spring day in the courtyard of hogwarts. But standing before Mattheo—you knew this was possibly a turning point about to happen. Your best friend. Having built that trusting relationship with him was hard. On both sides. But you stuck together and knew each other well.

But now the tension between you and Mattheo is thick, like a storm ready to break. You can feel it in the air, the unspoken words that hang between you both, electrifying the space. And yet, the weight of it all crashes down with the finality of your words, words that you didn't even realize held so much truth. "You've never been loved, I can tell." You don’t know why you said it, why the words slipped from your lips like a confession, an accusation. But the moment they leave your mouth, they settle over him like a shadow, dark and unavoidable.

You watch him, frozen, as his gaze falters, as if a part of him dies with your words. His shoulders drop, and for the briefest moment, he looks almost… human. Vulnerable. The walls he so carefully constructed around himself seem to crack, and for the first time, you see the weight he’s been carrying—the one he’s never let anyone see.

But Mattheo doesn’t speak. Not right away. His lips tremble, just slightly, as if the words he wants to say are too much to bear. His breathing is shallow, uneven. It’s a quiet sort of pain, the kind that threatens to swallow him whole, but he refuses to let it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, the harshness in his voice an attempt to mask the tremor you caught. His jaw clenches, his eyes narrow, but they can’t hide the flicker of something deep within them.

You wish you could take back the words, erase the hurt you’ve caused him, but you can't. The damage has been done, and now all you can do is watch him retreat behind that mask again.

“You don’t know me,” he snaps, cutting your thoughts off. The rawness in his tone pulls at your chest, makes your heart ache for him in a way you hadn’t expected. He’s breaking, but he won’t let you see it. His walls go back up, taller and colder than before, as he presses his lips together, trying to maintain control.

“You don’t know my name,” he continues, but it’s not the name he’s referring to. It’s something deeper, something that has been built over years of pressure, expectations, and burdens no one should ever bear.

You reach for him, words forming on your tongue, but they choke you as he takes a step back. The tears that threaten to spill seem to freeze in your throat. You want to apologize, to explain yourself, but the words are too heavy, the apology too fragile.

He shakes his head then, and you feel the weight of his emotions like a physical blow. “No,” he says, voice cracking. “You don’t have the right to talk about me. Talk about love. You don’t know anything about me.” His voice raises, and you flinch, a tiny part of you bracing for the anger that you know is coming. But then—then his eyes soften, and a single tear escapes, rolling down his cheek, tracing the path of all the years of grief he’s kept locked away.

The world tilts as you see that tear. It shatters everything you thought you knew about him. The bravado, the indifference—it all crumbles. He’s not invincible. He’s not the cold, untouchable boy he’s shown everyone.

You want to reach out, to take his face in your hands and promise him that it doesn’t have to be like this, but the fear that grips you—fear of what he’ll do, of what this moment will mean—paralyzes you.

When he speaks again, his voice is low, but it cuts through you like a knife. “I think it’s best if we part ways from now on.” The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything goes still. The wind dies, the distant sounds of the castle fade. His voice is the only thing that matters now.

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s turning away from you, walking toward the castle with a speed that leaves you breathless, leaves you empty. You stand there, a hollow ache settling in your chest.

Your feet move before your mind catches up, and you grab his arm, forcing him to stop. “Mattheo, no—don’t say that.” But he doesn’t even look at you. His body stiffens, his hand brushes yours off as if it’s a weight he can’t bear.

“I’m only saying what you would expect of me. Your image of me is quite apparent. Since you know me so well.” His words are cruel, but they are truth. And it cuts deeper than anything he’s said before. You step back, your heart sinking with the realization that he’s right.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he’s gone, leaving you standing in the shadows of the evening, alone.

Days pass. You bury yourself in your studies, pretending like it doesn’t matter. You let the ache settle in your bones, telling yourself that you’re stronger than this, that you’re better off without him. But every time you close your eyes, you see him—his face, the way his eyes softened for the briefest moment before he pulled away from you, the tear that marked the end of everything.

Pansy finds you in the library, but even she can see the storm brewing inside you. She drags you out, forces you to confront what you’ve done, and somehow, you find yourself standing at the threshold of the common room, looking at Mattheo across the room.

You stand frozen at the entrance to the common room, your breath shallow, heart pounding. The noise around you seems to fade into a dull hum as you lock eyes with Mattheo. He’s sitting there, looking as casual as ever, but there’s something in his gaze that stops you cold—something colder than you’ve ever seen before. It’s like he’s trying to shut himself off from you, a wall rising in the space between you that feels miles wide.

Pansy’s grip on your sleeve is the only thing keeping you tethered to the present, but even her silent pressure on your arm doesn’t make your feet move. She knows what’s going on in your head, even if you’re too caught up in the chaos to say it.

Mattheo’s face remains unreadable as his eyes flicker between the fireplace and the others in the room, but the tension in the air is thick. You can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or simply indifferent—but the chill in his expression tells you enough. It’s the same kind of look he’s given you every time you’ve pulled away, each time you’ve said something wrong, like you’ve been a weight dragging him down.

“I think I should go,” you mutter to Pansy, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You can feel your hands trembling, the nervousness creeping up your spine.

Pansy doesn’t let go of your sleeve. Instead, she gently pulls you forward, her usual playful tone gone, replaced with a sharp, no-nonsense edge. “No. You’re not running away this time. Not from this.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you feel like you might suffocate under the weight of it all—the fight, the guilt, the fear that he’ll never forgive you. But Pansy is already moving, leading you towards the fire where the others are seated. The firelight flickers in your eyes as you step forward, your body feeling heavy, like you’re walking through quicksand.

Mattheo doesn’t look up right away, but when he does, you feel the full force of his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask you how you’re doing or what you’ve been up to. It’s like the space between you has grown into something vast and impenetrable, and no words can bridge that gap. You wonder if that’s what you deserve after what you said, after what you did.

“You don’t have to do this,” Pansy says softly, but there’s a firmness beneath her words. “But if you don’t, you’ll never know if things could be fixed.”

You can’t breathe for a moment. Everything in you screams to just leave, to hide away again, but you know she’s right. You’ve never been good at facing what you’ve done. But if you leave now, you might lose him forever. And you can’t do that.

You stop in front of Mattheo, the words stuck in your throat. For a long moment, you don’t know where to start. It feels like you’ve already said everything you could say, yet nothing at all. But it’s different now. You’re standing here, staring at him, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not running.

"Can we- talk?" You don't hear your own words as you speak and hold your breath while you wait, still contemplating if you could make a run for it—but Pansy is right. Mattheo doesn't spare you a glance as he simply stands up and walks past you, toward a secluded corner in the common room, two armchairs next to each other, a dim lit candle and tall bookshelves rising to the ceiling. You join him as he sits, fiddling with my robe until you take a deep breath, finally looking up at him.

“I—I’m sorry.” The words feel like they’ve been stuck in your chest for so long. You swallow hard, voice cracking slightly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

He stares at you in silence, his jaw tightening, but there’s something there now—a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something that tells you he’s listening. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. You don’t know if that’s a good thing, but it’s a start.

“I know I fucked up. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I—” You pause, unsure of what to say next, your chest tightening with the weight of all the things you should have said before. “I care about you, Mattheo. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

He doesn’t speak for a long while, and for a moment, it feels like the world has frozen around you both. But then, slowly, his lips part. His voice is low, almost like it’s coming from somewhere deep inside him, a place he’s been hiding for too long.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” His gaze is soft, almost vulnerable, and it shakes you to your core. “You don’t have to say anything you think I want to hear.”

“Then what do you want to hear?” you ask, almost desperately. “Because I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You don’t have to fix it. Just… be here. With me. No more walls.”

Your heart beats faster at his words. It’s not perfect, it’s not the answer you hoped for, but it’s something. Something you can work with.

And when he stands, taking a small step toward you, you feel the knot in your chest loosen just a little bit, so you stand as well. His arms, warm and familiar, slide around your shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel so alone.

“Let’s not do this again,” he murmurs against your hair, pulling you close as you clutch his dress shirt, shutting your eyes tightly.

And you nod, knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll keep trying. You’ll keep showing up, even when the storm inside you feels too strong to bear.

For him. For you.

For what you both deserve.

[gvshing]

Roommate Vi✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Masterlist C.W. mentions of being drunk

Roommate Vi loudly plays her games in the middle of the night. It’s 2 am and she’s screaming at 14 year olds for getting her killed in Fortnite. “Dude! What the fuck! You were supposed to cover my ass!” Is all you hear, all night long, through the paper thin walls. When she gets too loud you’re throwing pillows at the wall. Her big ass headphones planted atop her head, denting her hair into the shape of them, tuning out the sounds of quiet thumps against her wall. You eventually have to go knock on her door to tell her to keep it down around 3 am. She has work in the morning, you can’t quite wrap your head around how she plays all night and still makes it in on time. Vi will apologize, embarrassment etching her features. Though she would be lying if she said she didn’t like seeing your frazzled state standing at her bedroom door every night. Cozied into your pajamas and a blanket wrapped around you, sheltering you from the cold. She keeps it cold as hell in the apartment. She runs naturally hot so you never complain, enjoying wearing the hoodies around the apartment and the old stained sweats you’ve owned since you were a teenager. They were more comfortable than the shorts that rode up or the tank tops you were always worried would move and flash her. She loved seeing your sleepy eyes and frizzy hair from all the tossing and turning trying to tune her out. She stays quiet for as long as she can, but she has a hard time controlling her volume when she’s angry or heavily enthused. Usually, she’ll get loud about an hour after you’ve scolded her, but that works for you. By that time you’re sound asleep.

Room mate Vi comes home drunk on the weekends after nights of bar hopping with her friends you still have yet to meet. Except in passing when they’re helping her get into the apartment. You’ll do a silent exchange of taking the load of Vi’s weight into your arms, nodding and a quiet thank you slipping through your mouth before they’re gone again. You’ll pull her into the room, wrecked from her getting ready earlier. Clothes thrown all over her bed and hair products splayed across her dresser. Moving the clothes to the side, you carefully help her into bed, she throws herself the rest of the way down and cackles loudly. “Woah! Hi Y/N! When did you get here? Or me? I missed you~” In a sing-song tone she’ll realize she made it home safe once again. She cracks her eyes open into slits to glimpse you taking her shoes off. Sighing loudly as you place the shoes on the ground, she huffs in annoyance. “What could you possibly be annoyed about, Vi? I’m helping you.” You say, frustration lacing your voice. You’re not mad that she’s come home like this again, she’s still young, that’s what she’s supposed to do at this age. Still worry swirls around your chest at the thought of her friends not being there one day, but deep down you know she’ll always make it out safe. She’s strong, even shit faced drunk. And to be honest, you never mind helping her after a night of drunken adventures. It warms your heart to know you can be there for her in such an intimate way, even if her drunken self always finds something to groan and pout about. She’ll continue sighing loudly until you sit next to her lying body on the bed. Stroking her hair until she settles, “I’m going to grab you water and some medicine for when you wake up, okay?” She groans once more and throws her arms around your waist, rapidly shaking her head, holding onto you until sleep finds her. You sneak out of her room and return with the hangover remedies, softly setting them down on the nightstand and quietly exiting the room, fearful you’ll wake her up.

In the morning, she’ll wake up in a haze, quickly take the medication and gulp down the water you left for her. She’ll stumble out of her bedroom, finding you in the kitchen making breakfast. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get that drunk or make you take care of me.” She apologizes profusely, clambering over to the table to sit down, wincing at the way her head pounds harder when she sits down a bit too hard. “I never mind, Vi. You’ll feel better soon. Want breakfast?” You both sit in silence until after she finishes eating. Slowly she’ll feel better and then you’ll recount your night of babysitting her drunken persona. Secretly, she loves when you take care of her, drunken or not. And you love to be the one taking care of her. Love the feeling of being useful to her. 

Room mate Vi has a bad day at work like 70% of the time. You’re not sure why she still works there if she hates it, but she needs the money and you can understand that. She slams the door open and closes it a bit loud and viscous. Stomping to her room to scream into a pillow and punch her mattress out of anger. You hesitantly walk up to her door and knock lightly. You hear a quiet ‘come in.’ through the door and you slowly open the door and stand in the threshold. “You- What’s wrong?” Anxiety spreading through you. You’re never mad at her for getting as rough as she does when she’s mad. But, it still makes you feel uneasy. She exhales a breath of irritation. “Just a bad day. Work fucking kills me. The customers have to be having meetings in the mornings about how they’re all going to come in and ruin my day. Like they have to be. It’s insane.” You give her a look of sympathy and walk over to her desk chair. “I’m sorry. Tell me about it?” She’ll rant for an hour about how every customer was rude, obnoxious or stupid. Ending it feeling better about her day having gotten it out of her system. You truly make her feel at ease.

Room mate Vi and you reserve Sunday nights to hang out together. Usually cozying up in the living room, a shared blanket and too many snacks for one night, a movie playing on the TV. Every Sunday you trade off who gets to pick the movie. Vi usually picks an action movie or a romcom that she makes you promise not to tell anyone she enjoys. You taunt her with the threat of telling whatever friend that brings her home that week and she’ll tickle you until you can’t breathe and you’re promising over and over you won’t actually tell anyone. She settles back into her spot and gleams with triumph. Throughout the night you guys always find yourself moving closer to the other until you’re practically cuddling. Snuggled into her side and her arm thrown around the back of the couch, that’ll eventually get tired of being up there and trail down to being wrapped around your shoulders instead. You fall asleep like that and she gently scoops you up and brings you to your room. Tucking you into bed, she’ll push your hair back behind your ear and lean down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. She tells herself it’s normal to feel the way she does with you. You’re friends after all. She walks out of your room and softly closes the door. She stands in front of your door for a minute and catches her breath, waiting for her heart to slow down back to its normal pace. She just likes being around you. Nothing more, you’re a good friend. She finds herself staring at you, often, yeah. Friends do that. Catching herself missing you when you walk away, and imagines kissing you, more than she probably should, it happens, it’s normal. Yeah, friends feel that way sometimes. Sure.

Room mate Vi who isn’t able to convince herself she doesn’t like you when you come home one day, giddy about a first date you have that night. She starts feeling a searing jealousy rising in her. She can’t push it away and she’s pouting all day long. Sending you off with just a “Yeah, have fun. Be safe.” when you’re leaving. It leaves you perplexed, her sudden coldness. She sits at home, brooding, the rest of the night until you’re home. When she sees the look of disappointment on your face, she feels her heart leap. She feels bad for finding joy in your disappointment, but she can’t help herself. “Are you okay? Date not go well?” She hears the eagerness in her voice and inwardly winces. You huff and trudge to the couch, throwing yourself on it. You lay across her lap and stare up the ceiling. She strokes your hair and raises her eyebrows. A soft ‘hm?’ sound leaves her throat. “It wasn’t bad, but there just wasn’t any chemistry. I feel bad. I was so excited but she was so bland. I almost feel like she did it on purpose to drive me away. Maybe she didn’t want to go out and was just being nice when she said yes… I don’t know.” you sigh in defeat and toss yourself around to shove your face into her lap, shading your face away from her. She exhales softly and clears her throat, unease setting in. “Maybe? I doubt it. I bet she was just boring. Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with you? You’re so pretty and funny.” You snort in amusement. Twisting around to face her again. “You’re just saying that because you have to. But, I appreciate it.” She stares at you in disbelief. “I’m not just saying that, babe. You are a catch, people should feel blessed to be in your company. Let alone in such an intimate way.” You stare at her, unable to convince yourself that she’s being real. “Thanks, Vi. I appreciate you. It was just disappointing, but my feelings aren’t hurt.” She nods in a solemn agreement. She swallows her anxiety and reaches over to grab your hand. You interlock fingers and smile down at your connected hands. “Go on a date with me. I’ll show you what a good time with someone who values you, should feel.” You choke on your spit when you hear her say that and sit up fast. “What? I-” you stare at her and she continues staring at you, confidence spilling out from her. “Come on. It’ll be fun.” She smiles mischievously. “Uh.. Okay. Fine. If you want to, you don’t have to do that just because you feel bad for me. That’ll make me feel worse.” You trail off and she shakes her head, chuckling lightly. “I mean it. I was going to ask you either way.” You laugh loudly and throw yourself back into her lap, covering your blushing face.

Room mate Vi plans the most thoughtful dates. A picnic with your favorite foods, stay at home movie night with a fort she made herself, though it looks janky and falls down a few times, surprise beach days. By the end of every date you share, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, feeling like you did a thousand sit ups from the pain of laughing too much and butterflies making a home in your chest. She always makes you feel that deserving feeling she preached to you. With her it felt easy, it made sense. And you felt silly for not seeing it earlier. It felt obvious that you both would be a good match together, but yet it took you so long. And it took her asking you. What if she didn’t say anything? Would you be living your life going on mediocre dates until the end of time? Either way, you’re glad you don’t have to do that. Glad you have each other.

Girlfriend Vi adores you and never goes a day without telling you how pretty and smart you are. She loves to see you shy away from her, loves to see your coy smile. You continue your Sunday movie nights, but with more kisses and cuddling now. You go with her on the weekends to watch how she gets herself to that point of drunken-ness. But, you’re the one taking her home now, not just tucking her in. You’re cuddling into bed next to her now. Her warmth radiates off her, no need for blankets when you have her to warm up. You wake up to her head shoved into your chest, arms wrapped around you and legs locking you in place. She snores lightly, peacefully resting off her hangovers, hard work days or rough workouts. You kiss her on the top of her head and snuggle closer into her, closing your eyes to drift off into that same peaceful rest. Feeling thankful you’ll never have to live without her or her calming presence. Even when she’s mad. 

[m-jelly]

Anything for my girls

Tension filled the room as impending doom dawned on the poor man kneeling in the dark office. He'd messed up for the last time and been caught as a rat. People had been watching him for a while, and he'd been given multiple chances, but the money was too good. Now, it was all over.

The room was large, but it felt so small at that moment. His hands were tied behind him while a guard firmly gripped his shoulder. The carpet felt uncomfortable under his knees, his throat was dry, and his body shook with fear. Ahead of him were two chairs angled a little as they faced the varnished desk. A computer sat to the side of it, and sitting at the head in a big leather chair with a look of murder was his boss.

The man believed his boss had gotten softer since he'd married and had a daughter, but he was deeply wrong. The iron fist that belonged to Levi Ackerman was harsher than ever when someone betrayed or put others at risk. Life was more precious than ever.

He flinched when Levi lifted his teacup and sipped a little as he listened to the guard's report, his boss's eyes never leaving him. Levi might have removed his blazer, but there was just something so commanding and imposing about his outfit. He wore a dark blue smart shirt with a tight black waistcoat. His guns rested in his over-the-shoulder holsters.

Levi placed his cup down, moved it so it was perfect and then parted his lips to speak. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I cleared your debts, I helped you with your family, I gave you a home, food, friends and money."

"S-Sir."

He slammed a knife into his desk. "I wasn't done talking." He turned the knife as he glared at the man. "I gave you a lot and my trust, yet you disrespect me like this?" He leaned across the desk. "In my own home?"

The man shook more as his bladder threatened to release. "I'm s-sorry!"

Levi rose to his feet and strolled around to the man pleading, bedding and sobbing on the floor. He yanked his knife free and took it with him. When he reached the front of the man, he came to a stop. Levi backed up a little to avoid getting spit on his shiny, smart shoes.

Levi tapped the bottom of his knife against the underside of the man's chin. "Tch, look at you. It's always I'm sorry. Sorry you were caught. Tell me the truth." He leaned down and spoke against his ear. "Would have continued fucking me over if I didn't catch you?"

"I-I-I."

The door of his office opened slowly. Levi was ready to shout at whoever it was, but then his heart filled with pure love and joy. His sweet little two-year-old girl, Lilly, had escaped you and come to see him. It was like second nature to everyone in the room. The guards dragged me man away, and Levi put his knife in its sheath above his bum.

Lilly gasped in delight, her pigtails bouncing as she ran over in her pink dress covered in bunnies. "Daddy!"

Levi felt panic for a moment; he still had his guns on him, and he needed to get rid of his weapons, but Lilly was rushing towards him. "Sweet little bunny!" He chuckled as she hugged his legs. "Hello." He ran his hand over her head before looking up at the most beautiful woman in the world, you. He lovingly said your name. "You look..."

You smiled as you walked over. "Thank you." You handed Lilly her bag and toy. "Go sit down while I help Daddy." You hugged Levi as soon as Lilly ran. "I'll get your guns and knife."

Levi growled at feeling your hands on him, your warm body against his, your hot breath on his ear, and your divine scent wrapping around him. "Fuck, you smell and feel good."

You kissed his cheek. "Down, boy." You pulled back with his things. "Go see your daughter. She has stickers for you."

He chuckled. "Stickers, huh? Exciting."

You winked. "Sorry we interrupted something."

"I'll take care of it later. You and Lilly are far more important." He scooped up Lilly, making her squeal with laughter. "Come here, trouble." He kissed her puffy cheek. "Mummy says you have stickers." He sat at his desk with Lilly on his lap. "What have you got for me?"

She patted her bag. "Here."

He opened it for her and pulled out a book of stickers. "Oh wow, so many bunnies."

She took one and stuck it on Levi's waistcoat over his pec. "Bunny."

"Yes, cute bunny." He flicked his gaze up as you perched on his desk.. "You look so tasty."

You smirked at him. "Thank you. You look incredible. The bunny sticker looks perfect on you. The more she adds, the better."

Levi chuckled. "I think so, too. She's even adding some to my desk."

"That man..." You reached over and moved some of his soft hair. "Was he the one you told me about?"

"Yes." He moved his teacup away from Lilly's reach. "I'll deal with it later."

You leaned over his desk, flashing him your cleavage. You lightly tapped a sticker on his chest. "With all these on you?"

"Makes me more intimidating." He looked down at Lilly. "Right?"

Lilly gasped at Levi before giggling. "Daddy."

He kissed the side of her head. "See?" He looked up at you. "Now, give me some sugar."

You leaned closer and kissed him. "Mm, love you."

"Love you, forever."

Tags under cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

[ragnarockz]

Ok but what happens when Rio asks to learn more about Nicky to feel closer to the both of them? How does our favorite detective react?

🥺

Agnes is super defensive over him and her memories of him; the little amount of time they had together

They're sitting at the kitchen table, their coffees gone cold between them as Vidal tries to break through the crack that is Nicky

Agnes does the whole 'if I can be jovial about this it'll hurt less' approach and that all lasts for about a sentence or two before her face darkens and she's sucked back into that excruciating long day at the hospital

"He got very, very sick, Vidal...it all happened so fast..."

Agnes slumps in her chair and holds her forehead, elbow to the table as if still trying to figure out how to save her son

Vidal can only sit there and embrace Agnes' pain

Her own thoughts rush in, thoughts of how she' heard whispering since coming to Westview of how Agnes' son died. How she mistreated him. How she was too young and how it was because she was a runaway with no family and no job and access to drugs. How it was because she didn't have a good man in her life. It makes Vidal want to vomit

She never tells Agnes this; she's pretty sure she's heard all these rumors herself. How many times did she lay awake at night and maybe even start to believe them? How many times did she tack them on to the ever growing list of faults?

"Did you do this all alone, Baby?"

"No, I had Alice with me."

And that crack suddenly starts to get chipped away and Vidal and breathe a little easier as Agnes starts to let her in

"You and Alice...you must have been close? Trusted each other a whole lot."

"Yeah, we were...I did. We...she took me under her wing after I left my mothers and she took care of me while I took care of Nicky."

"And you two?"

"What about us, Vidal? That's ancient history..."

"I'm not jealous! I just want...to know you. I want to know you from then. What got you to here?"

And Agnes has to stop and think because can she tell Vidal? Does she want to tell her? What difference does it make now since neither Alice nor Nicky are in her life anymore

"I was just a baby myself trying to navigate motherhood and my sexuality...I felt alone, alienated, and then Alice just... accepted me."

"You two..."

"Five years. Until...Nicky died and she went away to school, and I stayed in Eastview."

"That's a long time to be with someone at that age..."

And Agnes bites the inside of her cheek, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Her hands are shaking, leg bouncing under the table. She can't look at Vidal, not yet

"...I had a ring picked out; kept it in my pocket for months...waiting for the right time..."

And the silence expands throughout the house. A different time and place; Agnes feels like she's suffocating

"You...never went after her?"

And Vidal's words suck Agnes back to the present, their eyes finally meeting

"I couldn't. Didn't feel right. She had so much going for her...I didn't want to tie her down to me."

And it's Vidal's turn to choke back her tears because at the end of it, that is all just so Agnes it's painful. The fear of having someone stay; asking them to stay. The fear of shared sorrow over joy. The fear of being seen. Te veo

"You should reach back out to her...I see the cards from her you bring in and hide...she still cares."

"It's pity."

"It's love, Agnes. Please. She still cares about you; she still considers you her friend."

Agnes stares down Vidal, studying the calm expression on her face. She blows out a deep exhale

"I wouldn't know where to start...does she want me back in her life like that? Does she care? Does she just send me cards because she feels just as guilty as I still do?"

Vidal bites her lip then, digging into her pocket before she takes out her own business card with a number scribbled in pen on the back of it

Agnes reaches forward timidly as if the paper is going to burst into flames; a secret she's is not allowed to know

[aboutcustardcreams]

Time. I want more time.

Summary: Rio finds you, or rather you find her. But things don't go as planned. They simply can't. And when together with Nicky and Agatha, you make her an offer, one so tempting, so impossible to refuse, it makes Rio forget why she should. So she takes it. Just for now, just for this moment, Rio -not Lady Death- allows herself the thing she’s denied for so long. Time.

a/n: I’m so, so sorry it’s been so long! As I mentioned before, I was busy studying for a public competition, which I finally took a couple of days ago. On top of that, I came down with the flu, which slowed me down a lot. But I’m feeling much better now, so here I am!

I hope there aren’t too many typos or mistakes—I didn’t reread but I'll do it latr today (let’s be honest, it is very on brand for me at this point). Anyway, I hope you like it! ❤️

previous chapter

They gave her a job, a very specific one, that clashed with every fiber of her cosmic being. Only then did Rio realize why mortals loathed and resented her so much, why each and every time she showed up to collect a soul, all she saw was fear and despair swimming in the eyes of those whose life had sadly come to an end. 

Lady Death always found a way to justify herself, until now. She persuaded herself into believing that those who feared her were just… ignorant to the real purpose of her visit. She was meant to be welcomed as a friend and not dreaded as an enemy. And some did see her that way, as a release, a quiet mercy. But most didn’t. Most couldn’t. And now, she could see why. 

Rio couldn’t help but wonder, what kind of balance was she trying to achieve by condemning you to years of torment. What good was to the world if she made sure you suffered for having used your power to save your child? She searched for the meaning of it, but this time she failed to see it. 

The Fates had been outraged, that was the truth. The punishment  she was meant to inflict to you had nothing to do with what was fair and what wasn’t. 

She sighed deeply, as she leaned against a tree. Was it better to warn you or to do it, from night to day? Should she speak to Agatha? Should she show up at all, or complete the task hidden in the shadow?

She brought her hands to her face and then rubbed at it, out of sheer petulance. She inhaled and exhaled shakingly. Silent tears welled up in her eyes then slid down her cheeks like a raging river, the moment her eyelids fell shut. 

Rio couldn’t do this to you, without granting an explanation. She couldn’t distort Agatha and Nicky’s life by acting behind their back and yours. 

Then she heard it, a voice, one she had been allowed to listen to, from the fragile veil between the two realms. She froze before crunching down behind the tree she laid on to stay put. Quickly she wiped her eyes, before tugging her hood over her face. Silence was one of her crafts. Death could come unexpectedly, like a hurricane as well as softly and subtly like the faintest whisper of wind. And now, despite the tragic drumming of her heart, she was the latter. She had to be. 

“I’m so full, mama,” she heard Nicky say, with a sigh, though by the tone of his voice, she caught how satisfied he actually was. 

A smile tugged at her lips, small, yet sincere. 

“I can see that,” Agatha mused, her blue eyes flickered from him to you, “your stomachs are like bottomless pits.” 

Your head lolled to the side, kinda dreamy. “But the lamb stock was so good, Ags.” Agatha rolled her eyes at that. She wasn’t there to deny that, her point was another. “I know that, but you had three refills, my love. Three–” she repeated, playfully elbowing at you. 

You stuck your tongue out at her in response. 

Rio watched the interaction unfold, struggling to keep her soft side at bay. She tried to see you as another task to complete, and as soon as she did that, she cursed herself because you simply were not. To separate her love for you from the things she had to do against you was impossible. 

Before meeting you and Agatha, her job was relatively easier– if not completely, it was at least partially bearable. Without emotional ties, her tasks were just that: assignments to be completed, objectives to be met. But you weren’t one, and you could never be.

“I had four!” Nicky squealed, catching her attention once again. You turned towards the boy, and so did Agatha, whose eyebrows shot up. “My, my, four you say–?!” Playfully, you draped an arm around his middle, pulled him snug against your side. His back bumped into you and before he could react your fingers found his tummy, wiggling silly. “I wonder how all that food fits in this tum-tum of yours, lil champ!” 

His reaction was immediate. Laughter burst from Nicky as he squirmed and squealed, his small hands pushing at yours but to no avail. Agatha watched with a fond smile, her eyes glimmered to the sound of her son’s giggles mingled with yours.

“I’m a grown up now, mama–” he protested between laughs. “I can eat more than both of you, if I want to!” 

“Oh-ho, hear that, Ags?” You leaned in, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to the top of his head before finally setting him free. She hummed, a playful sound slipping past her lips. “We’ve got a tween on our hands–”

Nicky braced his hands on his knees and bent forward to collect his breath. But the glimmer in his eyes gave it away– he was happy, perhaps the happiest he has ever been. 

He could have it all now: a long life ahead, his mothers by his side and no more battles to fight. Rio’s hands turned into fists, her nails dug in so hard she ripped at her skin, but she felt no pain. The only ache– the most painful and persistent inhabited inside her chest. Nothing could top the feeling of her heart turning darker little by little. 

Agatha grimaced, brows furrowing in feign disappointment. “Well, it’s a shame really–” she rummaged through her nosebag, quickly catching the boy’s attention. And yours. His eyes locked onto her hands the moment she pulled out a bundle wrapped in cloth. She peeled it back, revealing two soft oat cakes, still warm, their golden surface glistening under a thick glaze of wildflower honey. They looked delicious. Nicky felt his own mouth water at the scent they emanated. “I was going to give you these later today as a snack, but since you’re a big man now, perhaps you’d rather donate them to younger children?””

His brows furrowed, his mouth parted ajar, ready to protest, but you were faster. 

“Or–” you rolled your tongue, drawing closer, eyes on them. “I could eat those.” 

Agatha should have known. “You’re worse than him,” she mused, keeping the oat cakes at a fair distance, giving you an innocent push. 

An impish grin tugged at your lips, before you giggled, “you do call me baby girl, don’t you?” 

Agatha snorted out a chuckle as she glanced at you. Her eyes spoke louder than any words. “This is not the appropriate context…”

You played dumb, “is it?” 

Nicky, completely ignoring your staring contest, decided to interfere. “If mama can eat those, so can I,” he reasoned defiantly. 

Oh yes, your boy was sharp. 

“His logic is airtight,” you admitted with a nod. 

A toothy grin played out on his face, one of victory. 

“Fine, fine,” Agatha snorted in defeat. “Both of you can have it. But later– unless you want a serious stomachache now.” She put the treats back in her nosebag, silently enjoying the way your lips turned into a slight pout, matching Nicky’s. It took all her willpower not to pounce on you two and pepper your faces with sloppy kisses. 

“We can wait, right kid?” 

Nicky nodded promptly, muttering a soft ‘I guess’, before resuming his walk, trotting ahead and busying himself searching for pieces of wood. 

You and Agatha remained a few steps behind him. It was peaceful. It was everything you always wanted. 

You were looking for a spot to settle down for the night, but in the meantime, something caught your attention. There, on the forest floor, nestled against the green of the leaves, were clusters of red berries. Their deep crimson skin gleamed, looking so smooth, plump and perfect, you couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Something about them felt off, though. You crouched down, fingers grazing the soft, delicate surface of one berry. You squeezed one between your fingers and then leaned in, inhaling it softly. There was something faintly bitter underneath its apparent sweetness– like decay. It made you wince.

“Are there any good?” Agatha asked, lowering herself to crouch beside you.

Her hand brushed a strand of hair from your face behind your ear and when she did she caught the way your nose scrunched up. 

“I’m afraid not, unless you’re eager to lose your sense of taste,” you hummed, discarding the berry and wiping your fingers on a large green leaf lying there.

Agatha chuckled softly, with a shake of her head. “Pass.” 

“Thought so,” you grinned, pulling yourself up. 

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” 

You met her gaze, the subtle shift in her tone inevitably caught your attention. “That not everything is as it seems?” 

“Yes,” she began, leaning in just a fraction closer, so that her warm breath crashed against your cheek, tickling your skin and making your stomach flutter. “But also that something so good looking, juicy and rich like those barriers can also be potentially… lethal.”

You couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle at that, your head dipping with amusement. You got the feeling it wasn’t just the berries she was talking about. Nicky, a few steps ahead, was too engrossed in his own task to notice the conversation going on between you and Agatha, his back turned as he collected wood and pines. 

“Are you calling me lethal, Ags?” You said, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in. 

Unable to resist, she pulled you by your hips, her eyes bore into yours and you saw a flicker of arousal swim within them. There was hunger there, barely restrained. One you understood very well, because it was similar to yours. 

She hummed, her hands squeezed your hips, fingers kneading slow, deliberate circles. Each stroke of hers sent a shiver running up your spine and goosebumps to rise over your arms. Her breath ghosted over your lips, so close it made your skin tingle. “No, not lethal.” She shook her head. 

You swept your tongue over your mouth, and her eyes followed there helplessly. She wanted to claim you, pull you close and devour you right then and there, but the sun was too high in the sky. And then there was Nicky… “But easy to fall for, yes.”

You bowed your head, a quiet chuckle slipping past your lips. One Agatha found herself going mad. When your eyes bore into hers again, only a second passed before you kissed her. Agatha exhaled, her mouth parting instinctively as her eyes fluttered shut. Yours did, too. A soft hum vibrated in your throat when she deepened the kiss, drinking you in like the succubus she was. Your hands cradled her face, fingers threading into her hair as you tilted your head, surrendering to her. Her tongue crashed against yours, teasing, chasing, until she caught the very tip between her teeth, giving the lightest, most maddening nip. 

You couldn’t help the faint little chuckle that slipped past your lips, one she promptly reciprocated. “You’re being unfair now,” you whined, before laying your forehead against hers. “I– we can’t do this now.”

A flicker of amusement danced in her gaze, as she inhaled deeply in your scent, “I know, but perhaps when the night falls–” her breath was hot on your skin. 

You nodded way too quickly. “I’d like that,” your voice came out hoarse, “please,” you added eagerly. 

Agatha smiled against your lips, her fingers still tapping at your hips. “Such a good baby girl for me,” she closed the distance between you one more time to give you a gentle peck on your lips. She used that pet name on purpose, knowing the things it did to you, especially in such intimate contexts. 

“Ags–” you whined, but before you could say anything else, a sound came to your ears. It felt like a crunch in the grass that interrupted, gladly or less so, it depends on how you see it– the moment between you and Agatha. You three turned, but not at the same time. Nicky had noticed a slight movement coming from a point in the distance, a glimpse of a green cloak, one vaguely familiar to him. 

Before you and Agatha could tell him to wait, he trotted in that direction. 

Rio could have disappeared. With a snap of her fingers, she could have. She should have. But what was the point? She was never a coward and she clearly wouldn’t start now. For once, in centuries, Lady Death felt like she needed the contact– a physical one. Looking at her family in the eye, and enjoying a glimpse of normality she always wished for herself. So she stayed. 

She came out of her hiding spot, and took her hoodie off, a soft smile tugging at her lips. 

You and Agatha froze, eyes widening but for different reasons. 

Nicky’s face lit up as he ran to her. “Rio! It’s you!” 

With a chuckle, she caught him in her arms, and buried her face into his hair, while he nuzzled underneath her chin, “my dear– It’s so good to see you.” 

For a moment, time itself seemed to hesitate. It was as if Death and the very essence of Life had met halfway. It felt so right. Rio and Nicky there, together. Your eyes watered, a single tear slipped down your cheek but you wiped at it before it could wet your chin. 

Beside you, Agatha tensed up, her magic flickering at her fingertips. One wrong word, one bad movement and you knew she would have snapped. Her magic stilled when you reached out and curled your fingers around hers. She looked at you, brows furrowing, a plea in her eyes. She was conflicted, you knew that. Honestly, who better than you could, after everything you went through?

“Don’t– she’s not here to hurt him,” you reassured her, voice soft and kind.

“Moms!” Nicky called out, as Lady Death pulled him down, ever so gently.  His hand in hers as he dragged her towards you and Agatha. “It’s her! She’s the woman I told you about! I found her!” 

He looked so happy, your heart swelled. When he let go of her hand, he ran to you and pulled at your clothes, barely containing himself. 

Rio didn’t say anything, she waited for you and Agatha to do so first. 

“Rio,” saying her name felt like finally taking a breath after being underwater for ages. 

She turned, hazel eyes bore into yours with such a raw intensity, you felt the need to get even closer. She looked at Agatha too, with the same love and… what you thought being regret. Guilt gnawed at you as you did, memories of your last encounter came back to you like a hurricane. You had treated her unfairly, let yourself be fuelled by harshness– so deeply foreign to your person and pushed her away. 

“I’m sorry for-”

“I need to apologize for–”

Realizing you had talked at the same time, a soft laugh slipped past your lips. She smiled, instead, eyes flickering towards Agatha, catching the moment she started nibbling the inside of her cheek. You caught a gentle blush coloring Rio’s cheeks, when she turned to you once again and your expression softened even more. 

“You first,” Rio muttered softly. 

You rubbed at Nicky’s back, still clung to your side before speaking, “I shouldn’t have said those things,” you started, your voice barely above a murmur. “And I’m sorry I’ve been cruel to you. I regret pushing you away… it was selfish– you were as scared as Agatha and I were and–” you swallowed a lump in your throat getting bigger and bigger.

Rio’s face fell, her brows furrowing. “No, no, shhh, it’s okay–” She was quick to cut the distance between you. “

Nicky looked up at you, a pout forming on his face, recognizing you were this close to crying. “Mama–?”

You inhaled a deep shaky breath. Your eyes flickered to him, “it’s okay, my love,” you smiled, softly but sincerely. “I’m just– emotional. I’m okay.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, because you indeed were. However, there was more to it: things you weren’t ready to confess to your son. 

The sight of your lip quivering, only caused Rio’s heart to feel heavier. Agatha wasn’t doing much better, but she resisted, she had to. With one hand atop Nicky’s shoulder, she kept the other in yours, thumb gently tickling your palm as a way to reassure you. 

“I never blamed you for a second. Not you, Agatha…” A bitter smile ghosted her lips as she shrugged. “What other choice did you have?” she murmured.

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. 

“You had no choice either–” you croaked out. 

“Yeah, I s’pose.” Rio pursed her lips, trying to offer a smile, but it wavered, tilting into something closer to a grimace. “It’s okay now. No hard feelings,” her attempt at teasing worked quite well, because you chuckled. Weak, quiet, but real. And for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The ache remained, but it was softer now, dulled just enough to breathe. 

Agatha scoffed. She knew the pull Rio had on you, knew it because she felt it too. But unlike you, she couldn’t let herself be swayed. She needed more time, proof that it was safe to let the guard down now. No catches. No hidden prices to pay. She wanted to ask, she wanted Rio to be straightforward about her intentions, but sadly that was not the right moment, not with Nicky listening to the conversation. 

When Rio reached out a hand towards Agatha, she whimpered without meaning to. The image of the four of you gathered so closely– closer than ever before, was a lot even for her. She hated how she loved it. She hated how much it terrified her: to be shown something she wasn’t sure she could keep for herself, for Nicky and for you. She swallowed, blue eyes boring into hazel ones, searching, digging deep, trying to find clues, anything, pleading even. 

"I know this is hard for you– I see you trying, and I appreciate it. Truly." Rio said, her voice thick with emotion. You smiled at Agatha, it was encouraging, lovingly. "What you’ve done here—” Rio’s eyes flickered to Nicky, then. Her hand grazed at his cheek. “It’s nothing short of a miracle. And I couldn’t be prouder."

Agatha could have answered with one of her usual bitter remarks, but decided against it. 

Instead, she shot you a teasing look and said, “she did all the work, but insists on giving me the credit, too.”

An amused scoff slipped past your lips, as you rolled your eyes. “We talked about this, Ags–” 

“No kidding,” her remark caused Rio to barely stifle a chuckle. 

“Wait–” Nicky, his brows furrowed, mind racing, found himself bubbling with a very important question, his mouth parted, before he finally asked, “so, you do know each other?” 

A watery chuckle slipped past your lips, as you nodded. Agatha’s smile grew and so did Rio’s. Of course he would have noticed by now, considering you and Rio were talking as if there was a history and indeed there was one. There was no point in lying on that part now, wasn’t there?

“Yeah–” you confirmed, with your hand resting atop his shoulder. “Guess we know the same Rio after all–” 

“What were the odds, huh?” Agatha added, her gruff voice taking on a note of fondness. 

“There aren’t many like me,” Death teased lightly. 

Agatha folded her arms to her chest, “thank the stars for that–”

You shot her a playful elbow, despite knowing full well there was no real bite behind her remark. And Rio– she, too, knew better than to take offense. Agatha and you noticed the way she tried to hide her amusement, by pressing her tongue against her cheek. A thing of hers. 

Nicky grinned. In his perspective, this coincidence only made things easier for you to get along. “My moms and I were looking for you.” 

Lady Death frowned at his words. “Oh?” Her tone held a note of surprise, though she stopped herself from asking why. She had a feeling you’d give her the answer soon enough.

Nicky glanced up at you, as if searching for the right words. His wish was simple: he wanted Rio to be with you all. And while you knew it wasn’t that easy, that it couldn’t fully happen, not when Rio’s duty was unlike any other, you still hoped to find a compromise. 

And as for Agatha– she wasn’t sure what scared her more. The fact that Rio might actually stay, or the possibility of another betrayal coming from her. Because unlike you, she didn’t forget. She wasn’t even sure you did, to be honest. Perhaps you simply pushed the thought aside because you were desperate for some peace and quiet. Some normalcy in your life. And quite frankly, how could she blame you for wishing such a simple thing? 

Rio had mentioned a price to pay that night. So if you wanted to let your guard down, then fine, she would have to be the one with a clear head, ready to have your back. To fight, if necessary. 

When you spoke, Rio’s heart clenched in a way that almost hurt.

“We were hoping you’d… tag along,” you murmured, so softly you weren’t even sure she heard.

But Rio did. And it stole the breath from her lungs. Not that it could kill her– but it almost felt like it. She looked at Agatha for further confirmation, only to find her nodding at your words. 

“I know you’re busy,” you continued, hesitating, your fingers curling slightly at your sides, as a way to cope with your own jitters. Because yes– there was the possibility that your request would be denied. That your hope would burn out as easily as it came to  light. “I know your job is part of who you are, but—” You turned, searching for Agatha’s eyes and your heart pounded even faster when she looked at you in a way that made you feel seen and protected. “But you’re also needed here,” you pressed on, your voice steadier now. “With us. You’re not just your job, Rio. And I hope you know… you’re so much more.”

Rio didn’t say a word, she couldn’t trust her own voice yet. She had shown up with a purpose, one certainly less flattering than yours. She curled her fingers into fists, and inhaled. She almost thought the Fates did this to her, manipulated yours and Agatha’s mind into asking her such a thing. And quite frankly it wouldn’t surprise her if that was true. Only to make her suffer more. Only to make her task even more impossible to be carried out. 

“I–” she hesitated. She wanted this. She really did. 

Nicky tugged at her cloak, with adorable impatience. “Please–” he half whined. “There’s no need to hide. No need to meet in secret anymore. We can be your family–” The way he said that, with such simplicity, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, affected you three at the same time and with the same force. 

You, Agatha, Rio and Nicky. A family. A real family. 

You reached out, cupped her cheek and stroked her skin ever so gently. “What do you say? Want to give it a try?” 

She leaned in, lips a few millimeters from your face, eyes staring at your lips. She loved your hope. And she would absolutely hate it to be the one taking it from you. 

To her surprise, Agatha drew closer, too. Gently, almost absentmindedly, she reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Rio’s ear. And for the first time in a while, she allowed herself to truly look at her, not as the witch, and even less as Lady Death. But as the woman beneath it all, who never truly stopped, not even once to be hers and yours. 

“Make it right,” she added, and before you and Rio could ask her what she meant by that, she continued, “for us and for you. Just– for the love of the gods, make the right choice,” she finished, her voice barely above a whisper held a pinch of urgency.

Rio let out a quiet scoff, her smile touched with something almost amused—almost, but not quite. The right choice, she said.  She had made choices before, choices that defied fate itself. And if she had to do it again—if it meant giving you all something, even if just for a little while—then to hell with it. Her hands were still tied, but she could live with that a little longer. 

Her gaze flickered to Nicky, something unreadable passing through her eyes. She knew– Hell, she knew this choice would break her. But it wasn’t just about her. It never was. You all needed this. 

So she made up her mind, by offering you the same thing she once did.

“I’d very much like that.” 

Time. She could only offer time. 

“That means–?” Agatha began, head lolling to the side, suspicion warring with hope in her eyes.

“That I’ll stay.” She confirmed, her voice trembling as tears welled, faster than she could blink them away. “If you all will have me.” 

You smiled. Nicky cheered. Agatha swallowed hard, then nodded. The answer to that couldn’t be clearer.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Paper Cuts." Intro—Daryl Dixon.

(Not my gif)

A/N: Hello everyone.

Once again, with great fear, I show you the intro of this little series, set before the apocalypse. This story is to show a little bit of how you and Daryl met before the end of the world, so I hope you like it! Thank you very much for giving it a chance. (I'm taking the liberty of tagging the people who commented on the post I made asking if you would like to read this story, and those who read "Like there was no tomorrow" but if you don't want to, don't hesitate to say so :)

Endless nights wondering why?

The emptiness in his uncomfortable mattress, always in the same position, counting the cracks in the ceiling. Insomnia, always alert, waiting still for the screams from the other side of the door and everything that brought, even if the perpetrators became ghosts a long time ago. Memories of his childhood desecrated, nightmares in his failed attempts to fall asleep, alone, until eventually boredom and tiredness forced him to close his eyes, only to then repeat the cycle in which he lived for many years. But not completely asleep, but always knowing the answer to: why I can’t? although never accepting the truth, living with it like a paper cut in his hand that burned.

All of that and more turned the boy into a young man who grew up unable to heal the wound, but that, at some point in his existence, found a way to live with it and without feeling any pain no more, because someone told him that, in the end, we’re all a little broken, and that's okay. At that moment his hand stopped hurting, and although it turned out rough after a lifetime of working with them, now the callousness of his fingers is invisible to you, nonexistent as Daryl continues to slide them over the small of your back, under your black t–shirt, up and down lazily because now, not sleeping is a choice.

Lying on his right side, his outstretched arm is the nest of your head and warm body while sleeping on your stomach, your hand in a loose fist against your face, a habit that makes him chuckle before he gently pushes it away, only to put his finger under your nose, just to check that you’re still breathing. Yeah, there you are, the responsible for the collision of his little world, fracturing the silence that Daryl Dixon had managed to achieve in his solitude. But he wouldn't change this for anything.

However, when the door of his old apartment opens and hits the wall with a thud, his natural protective instinct, the one that was born the first time he took care of his mother after witnessing her first blackout, makes his hand, a second after that resounding sound, leave your back only to press it against your ear to block out the loud giggles coming from the hallway.

As a reflex, your body moves in your sleep.

“Fuckin' asshole.” Daryl grunts in frustration, listening to the way his older brother silences whoever is accompanying him that night.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Merle laughs from the other side of the closed door on his way to his own room, intoxicated by alcohol and other things. “M' sure ma baby brother’s lil' angel is in there and we don’ wanna wake 'em up, darlin'...”

Although a short time later, the small apartment is filled with moans that travel through the thin walls.

“Goddamn it.” Tired, Daryl closes his eyes, wondering why the hell he hasn't been able to leave that shitty place.

Maybe it was the fear of starting, never something new because Daryl always lived tied to the past, to the pain and his scars, to the usual, to old habits, to his older brother who despite everything, is still his family. Although the ring hidden in his last drawer weighs with the opportunities he missed, that he let pass by for fear of rejection, for fear of his feelings overflowing when he had lived a life feeling little, or nothing at all. But then, there is a giggle on your part that forces him to open his eyes again, taking his hand away from your ear when Daryl sees you rubbing your closed eyelids before opening them, (with the fist you use to block your own breathing as he usually says to mock you) little by little to get used to the semi–darkness of the room and the partial light that enters through the only window.

“I think someone is filming a very dirty porno in your house.”

Daryl chuckles.

“M' sure the idiot paid her a lot of money to do that.”

You shrug, agreeing with him.

“Though I’ve never met such a religious person calling God that way.”

Surprised, Daryl lets out a laugh as he rubs his face, waking back up just as he was managing to fall asleep.

“Maybe we should jus' keep sleepin' at yer place.”

You nod softly, bringing your loose fist back up to your face.

“I think so. No offense, but your mattress is kinda hard.”

“Shit. Sorry, peach.” His hand finds its way back to your exposed skin, pushing himself close to your body. “M' gonna buy a new one. Now try to sleep 'cause I have to take yer pretty ass to work in the mornin'.”

You chuckle, closing your eyes, knowing well that now, easily, he too will go back to sleep.

You and Daryl had more in common than he ever thought you two would have, because he never met someone like you: a little broken but determined to live life to the fullest, as if you had never left little pieces of yourself behind. Maybe it was the memories of an interrupted childhood, the cigarettes shared on the edge of that lake of the woods where he usually takes you, the jokes you make with your sassy mouth, making fun of him like no one had ever done before, while showing him that laughing more than once a year was allowed, and that trips on his motorcycle were more fun in pairs.

But between meeting each other and breaking up, there was a life that was worth living even with those pains in our scars. Because now you know that the important thing about being alive is to live, even with those paper cuts on our skin that sometimes feel like bullet wounds, but those that, at some point in our lives, will no longer hurt at all.

@spookygothmommy @walkingtalkingsomething @m1nda0 @fluffy-dixon @stunkbiggu @kurogxrix @ffsjustletmesleep @kaz11283 @daryldixmedown @enretrogue

[residentwordsofaffirmationdealer]

barbara gordon + her disability, anger, fear, grief, dedication, revenge, closure, and moving on

"everyone talks about 'closure' now. when tragedy strikes they say you need 'closure'. what a crock. i wanted revenge. swear you won't tell anybody... part of me still does. i remember that night every time i answer the door. and i think about what was taken from me." from birds of prey (1999) issue 8

"a lot of the time it's like you batguys want me to hold on to the past because you can't get over it. i understand-- i have. i have a new life now. one i like -- one that fulfills me. it's not the same one i had before, but its good. maybe even better." from birds of prey (1999) issue 8

"do you understand how humiliating, how demeaning that is?! my life has no importance save in relation to you!" & "oh, yes, i heard about that. i heard how you two stood there, laughing over some private joker. tell me -- was it me?" from the batman chronicles (1995) #5

"i've lost so much. i've lost everything i thought i was. who am i now? how do i go on?" "you have lost nothing that matters. you have everything you need." from the batman chronicles (1995) #5

"a little over a year has passed since my life ended, since i died and was reborn." & "i'm me--more me than i have ever been. my life is my own. i embrace it, and the light with a deep continuing joy." from the batman chronicles (1995) #5

"there is hardly a crime fighter on the planet who has not come to rely on her skills and dedication. over time, she has become more to batman than a trusted ally or dependable resource. she is an inspiration to him:" from gotham knights (2001) #6

"but there was some i knew would soldier on. some who could stare adversity, grief, death in the face and, if not quite laugh, evolve and continue fighting the good fight. barbara gordon was one of those people" from bruce wayne: the road home (2010)

"what? you're not impressed?" "i wouldn't expect anything less from you" from bruce wayne: the road home (2010)

"not bad... for a cripple" from nightwing (1996) #87

"don't you dare! not one word about the past!" from nightwing (1996) #87

"that anger is really i know know anymore. every day." from batgirl (2009) #1

"i know what you must be going through. how angry you are. just know you don't always have to be" from batgirl (2009) #2

"i mean, what kind of stupid superhero rolls around in a wheelchair?" from batgirl (2009) #4

"bruce. dick. they'll always be a part of my life... but i owe it to myself to start looking forward...regardless of how painful that can sometimes be" from batgirl (2009) #7

"once upon a time, cormorant killed me. i've been dying ever since. but i've never let it stop me. never." from batgirl special (1988)

"who do i save -- him or myself? there's no choice. i can't let anyone take a life i can save!" from batgirl special (1988)

"i shot a defenseless girl" from the killing joke (1988)

"i mean, whos leading the JLA these days?" "batman." "superman." "martian manhunter." "owacle." from titans (1999) #1

"i really do run this city. they have eyes everywhere, they're listening to everything we say. i know that technique. i invented that damn technique. the reason i couldn't go with you to fight in the rocks to the north...? it's because im barbara freaking gordon. also known as oracle. and i started fighting them ten minutes ago." from convergence: nightwing/oracle (2015) #1

"you are defeated." "...lady. do i look defeated to you?" from convergence: nightwing/oracle (2015) #2

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi hello good morning/afternoon/night<3 I’m quite new to Tumblr and I really like your writing style! I haven’t read too much yet but I think it’s really good, and if requests are open could I please suggest anything Riddle x reader related? If that’s okay, of course.

It’s winter and cuffing season so there’s a WIDE range of fic scenarios I can imagine just now—then again, only if you’re up to it of course, not pressing or anything, I just really like how you write the characters plus Heartslabyul is my fav house and I love Riddle.

Sorry this is long.

Thank you for reading if you do 🫶

Hello, hello, newcomer ^^ I hope you continue to enjoy your time here on this blog~

For your prompt, I decided to go for a prompt of "sick!Reader reunites with Riddle (now Dr. Rosehearts) 10 years later"~ (When I think of winter, I think of getting sick, lmao)

What comes after Ever After?

You didn’t even notice you were falling until you collided with something solid and fleshy. Another body—that of the man that had been walking a little ways ahead of you. He had turned in time to catch you, and now awkwardly held you against his chest.

The buzz of people around you is dullened by your sickness. It’s like you’ve stuffed cotton into your ears, yet your head still spins as if you’ve climbed off a roller coaster. Your eyes and mouth and nostrils are so chapped they burn, your nose running like a leaky faucet.

“Are you feeling alright?” came a posh-sounding voice littered with concern.

Though your head felt heavy as cinderblocks, you managed to crane it and weakly nod. It was a barely passable lie, even to yourself.

“Let me see,” the man insisted. “Are you able to stand on your own?”

“Y-Yes.”

You stepped back with a sniffle—and realized that the man standing before you was a smallish redhead with prim blue-grey eyes. Two strands of hair formed an almost heart-like shape atop his crown. Wrapped up in a pristine white coat, he resembled a rose laid in the snow.

Red hair… heart-shaped… like a rose…

You audibly gasped. “No way. Is that you, Riddle…?!”

He frowned, but it was slight. There was an attempt at a smile, although that, too, was slight. “These days, I go by Dr. Rosehearts—but for an old classmate, just ‘Riddle’ will suffice.” He lifted a hand, allowing it to hover over your clammy forehead. “May I? I fear I lack a thermometer for a more exact reading.”

“O-Oh, sure,” you squeaked, half dazed.

In your delirious state, you wondered if this was even real. Riddle’s touch on your bare skin, his serious face so close, the ease with which you picked up from where you had left off 10 years ago. Those long, drawn out days in a balmy rose garden, the aroma of Darjeeling permeating the air.

It was like a dream, one you weren’t sure if you wanted to take up from.

“… You’re flushed and burning up,” he announced, retracting his hand. “It’s a wonder you were able to drag yourself out of bed. You should have stayed home and rested.”

“Then I’d have missed the reunion,” you protested hoarsely. I’d have missed seeing you again.

“Of all the foolish reasons to jeopardize your health! As a medical professional, I cannot say that I approve of this decision.” Riddle heaved a sigh, his eyes half-lidded and judgmental. Then a brief smile flickered onto his lips. “… But as a friend, I am glad that you feel so strongly about rekindling those lost connections.”

He reached into the pocket of his white coat and retrieved a packet of tissues, offering them. From his other pocket, cough drops appeared. “Here, take these. They should help tide you over for the duration of the event.”

“Thank you,” you said shyly, accepting the items. Your cheeks warmed, and you didn’t know if it was from the cold or from his kindness. “Um…”

“Yes?” he prompted. Patient, steady, like a rock in a river.

“Would you mind walking by me? And staying by me, too. I-In case I get dizzy again!” you blurted out.

Riddle chuckled into a fist. What a lovely, soft laugh he had, like summer wind chimes melting the icicles. “I would be honored to. It would allow me to monitor your condition—and it would also be an excellent opportunity for us to catch up.”

“I’d like that,” you murmured. “I’d like that a lot.”

[starshideurfics]

A Mother’s Love - Part Seven

part one… part six

Steddie, omegaverse, wayne x benny, the plot appears, mdni🔞

Steve’s panties are soaked, clinging to his pussy, all from kissing Eddie.

From finally kissing Eddie.

Eddie’s hands are on his waist, holding him in place, and Steve can feel how hard he is through their jeans. All from kissing.

He pulls back to catch his breath, and Eddie tucks his face to Steve’s neck, nuzzling below his ear. Blunt teeth drag over Steve’s mating gland, and he moans, his pussy clenching as his dick twitches in his pants. Steve grinds down, feels so powerful when Eddie gasps against his neck, confident enough to murmur, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Eddie freezes underneath him, but they’re both panting, the sounds of their breathing filling the room. Slowly, Eddie lifts his face to gaze up at Steve, dark eyes shining, and Steve is forced to confront his shiner again. Eddie’s been protecting him for years, and now he’s been hurt, even if he claims it isn’t that bad. He can’t help it, his thumb moves to delicately trace over Eddie’s eyebrow, bending to softly kiss his forehead above the bruise.

“Steve?” Eddie breathes, his grip on Steve’s waist like a vice, grounding them both.

“My parents are out of town, and I don’t want to be alone,” Steve murmurs. “I want you to stay.” He can feel the conflict in Eddie’s emotions—the desperation and desire and devotion warring with honor and respect and fear. “Please, Eddie, come upstairs.”

His sweet alpha—and Steve knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Eddie is his—simply nods, staring at him with such profound adoration that Steve feels on fire with it. He grins as they separate, taking Eddie’s hand in his and dragging him up to his room.

The air is thick when they cross the threshold, filled with tension and possibility. Eddie has been in Steve’s room before, but now he’s an alpha being invited into an omega’s space. It feels more intimate than having Eddie’s tongue in his mouth, more intimate than rubbing his clothed pussy over Eddie’s hard-on.

And it is. Steve has every intention of losing his virginity, now, to Eddie. Of being filled and knotted and so, so wet.

Of making love.

Even though the house is empty, Steve closes the door behind them. He guides Eddie over to sit on the edge of his bed, just outside his nest, and reaches back to take off his shirt, tossing it in a corner. Eddie’s seen him plenty without a shirt before, what with how much swimming they do all summer, but now he has permission to stare. Steve’s nipples feel tight, sensitive, and he’s sure they’re peaked.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Steve wants Eddie’s mouth on him, imagines that tongue swirling around his nipple, and shivers.

He takes the two steps to close the distance between them, and reaches for the hem of Eddie’s shirt. That’s enough to get Eddie to pull it off himself. Eddie’s lanky, his muscles wiry instead of bulky, but strong. And he’s pale, his own pink nipples looking like rose petals against cream. Steve brushes a thumb over one and purrs, inviting Eddie to touch him back.

Eddie presses a kiss to his sternum, and whispers, “So pretty, Stevie. Beautiful.” Then he does exactly what Steve wants, kisses over to his nipple and sucks.

Another trickle of slick fills Steve’s panties.

Steve reaches for the button of his jeans with one hand, the fingers of the other threaded through Eddie’s curls to hold him in place, to keep his lips and tongue on Steve’s tit. Eddie nips, teeth scraping over sensitive skin, and Steve moans, begging, “More, Eddie, please!”

A possessive purr rumbles through Eddie’s chest, his arm locking around Steve’s waist as he nips harder, hand coming up to pinch the other nipple. Then he leans back to admire his handiwork, Steve’s nipples red and hard, before guiding Steve’s mouth down to his. They fall back into kissing easy as breathing, Steve sinking down to straddle Eddie’s lap again, reminding him what’s waiting for him.

It takes a minute to get Eddie to let go of him, his alpha whining as Steve loosens his hold, but then Steve can step back and unzip his fly. He pulls down his jeans and panties, lets them fall to the floor and kicks them aside. His socks stay on.

Eddie’s attention zooms in on Steve’s dick, small and hard and covered in slick from his pussy, standing out from the dark thatch of his bush. He looks up at Steve, awe in his eyes, along with the hint of a question, and Steve answers with a tiny nod.

A single callused finger slides along his pussy lips and strokes up the underside of his dick. Eddie immediately slips the finger into his mouth and moans at the taste. “So sweet, Stevie.”

“Eddie,” Steve husks, breathing suddenly shallow. “Touch me.”

The finger returns, touch careful as Eddie slips it inside.

It’s so different from having his own fingers in his pussy; Eddie can reach places Steve can’t, can rub in ways Steve can’t, and he feels himself hurtling towards the edge. His whole body tingles. His pussy aches. Steve wants-

“Stop.”

Eddie freezes.

“I wanna come on your knot.”

“Steve,” Eddie groans, “I dunno if I can last-”

Steve presses his thumb quickly to Eddie’s eye socket.

“Ow!”

“Do you think you can last now?”

“Oh my god! Steve!” But Eddie’s chuckling. He pushes up to his feet, kissing Steve as he does. “Go lay down,” he orders against Steve’s lips. When Steve refuses to budge, Eddie nips at his lip and adds, “I’ll be right there, sweetheart. Let me take my pants off.”

Steve crawls into his nest and sits, watching Eddie strip out of his jeans. He struggles to get his cock out, too hard to maneuver easily, the head dark red and wet. Once Eddie’s bare, Steve can see that his knot has already begun to swell, making the base the slightest bit thicker than the rest of him. Saliva pools under Steve’s tongue.

He has enough sense still to crawl over to his bedside table and pull a condom from the box in the drawer, smiling sheepishly as Eddie climbs into his nest beside him. Gently, he rolls the condom down Eddie’s length, fingers trailing further to cup his balls, to explore him.

Then Eddie’s guiding him to lie back, covering his body with his own, kissing him with such tenderness that he almost doesn’t feel Eddie slip inside. But as he pushes deeper, the discomfort grows, Steve’s pussy stretching too fast. At the same time he feels the intensity of Eddie’s pleasure, the ecstasy of being sheathed in tight, wet heat.

Eddie moves his hips, his hand finding Steve’s, lacing their fingers together, still kissing like he’ll die without Steve’s lips on his. Steve can feel his orgasm building, intensified by feeling Eddie’s as well, and Steve comes hard, feels it in every part of his body as a cry rips from his throat. He feels the pressure of Eddie’s knot inside him, tying them together, and he wraps his legs around Eddie’s waist, tying his own knot. “I love you,” he whispers, exhausted and overwhelmed and so deliriously happy.

“Love you so much, Stevie,” Eddie whispers back. With those words in his ears, Steve drifts off to sleep, barriers still down to feel the warmth of Eddie’s love in his chest.

❤️❤️❤️

Steve wakes with a scream, heart pounding in abject terror. He cries out for his mother. Needs his mother.

Something terrible has happened, but he doesn’t have the words. He falls asleep again, crying against Eddie’s chest.

❤️❤️❤️

Steve wake before dawn to the feeling of fingers on his scalp as Eddie lazily plays with his hair. “Go back to sleep, Stevie.”

“Can’t.” His heart is pounding again just remembering the fear he felt.

“It was probably someone having a nightmare.”

“Eddie…”

“We don’t know how… everything we did last night will affect you. C’mon, sweetheart, it’s Hawkins. Nothing here to be that scared of, right?”

“I guess,” Steve agrees softly. He still hasn’t fixed his barriers; having Eddie’s emotions jumbled up with his is comforting. And then it hits him: “I’m going to have to tell my mom.”

“What?” Eddie asks, nonchalantly, still focused on swirling patterns along Steve’s skin.

“That we had sex. I’m gonna have to tell her we had sex and that it did weird things to my range.”

“Do I… have to be around for that conversation?”

“I’d prefer if you weren’t.”

“Thank god.”

Steve hums, tucks his nose to Eddie’s neck so he can breathe his spicy, wild mint scent. “But her and Dad won’t be home until Wednesday… I really don’t want to be out here alone.”

“You want me to spend the night again?”

“Yes.” Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s pulse point. “I know I could spend the night at Mama’s, but…” It feels silly to say, that he just wants to be with Eddie. That now that he has him like this he never wants to be away from him. Silly, teenage notions about love that he can’t shake.

Eddie’s hand comes up to cup Steve’s cheek, guiding Steve to look at him in the dim morning light. He smiles and Steve feels his heart flip-flop in his chest. “We can make spaghetti, do our homework, make a night of it.” Softly, he kisses Steve’s forehead, and glances over at Steve’s clock. “Still a couple hours before we need to get up. Please, just try to sleep? For me?”

“I’ll try.”

And trying works. Steve drifts off in the safety of Eddie’s arms, waking when Eddie tries to get out from underneath him a bit over an hour later. They both decide they may as well get up, going to take separate showers and getting dressed for the day, Eddie in borrowed underpants and jeans.

Steve makes them sit down to eat breakfast, and he makes fun of Eddie for heaping spoonfuls of sugar onto his Cheerios. “Well, if you had something appropriately sweet here, I wouldn’t need to add anything!”

“I thought I was sweet?”

“You offering to be my breakfast, sweetheart?” Eddie kisses him then, distracting them both until the remains of their cereal is a step away from mush.

There’s no rush to get to school, but at the door Eddie asks, “We driving separate, or together? Since we’ll just be coming back here…”

Arriving together isn’t that out of the ordinary. Eddie drove Steve plenty before he got his license, and Steve has picked Eddie up when his van is in the shop. Still, Steve wants to stake his claim, show off his alpha. “Can you drive, I still feel a bit shaky after…”

“Sure, Stevie, but we should head out now. I need to stop for gas.”

When they walk into Hawkins High from the parking lot, people stare. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are holding hands. They kiss at Steve’s locker. Steve’s got a hickey, and Munson’s got a black eye.

So does Billy Hargrove.

By the start of first period the whole school knows.

By the end of the day, everyone knows that Will Byers is missing.

❤️❤️❤️

Benny is doing prep work in the kitchen before opening, he’s made a test batch of fries to make sure the fryer is up to temp, and is snacking on those instead of eating a real lunch. Janice won’t be in for another hour, open always slow on Mondays. He carries out refills for the napkin dispensers, mind wandering.

Marsha and Richard are out of town, so he’s planning to stop out to check on Steve after school, ask about what happened with the studious alpha girl. They really seemed to be hitting it off, and Benny knows Steve has never brought-

He hears the slightest rustling in the back. Hawkins is small enough and quiet enough that he’s never worried about being robbed—not enough in the till to bother with either—but he moves as silently as he can to check on the source of the noise.

There, scavenging at his basket of test fries, is a child, head shaved and wearing a hospital gown. He must breathe too loudly, and the child looks up, eyes wide with fear, turning to run.

Benny’s instincts make him move faster, catching the pup—the girl—and murmuring, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You ain’t in trouble here.” He checks them over, sees no shoes on their feet, but no obvious injuries. “Where’d you come from?” he asks more to himself than the girl, which is for the best since he gets no answer beyond a nervous stare.

He changes tack. “How about we get you something more to eat? You sit down and I’ll get you set up, just need to know your name, huh?” Benny keeps his eye on them, as he goes to the freezer and pulls out the ice cream, not above bribing a pup in order to keep her safe. “My name’s Benny, what’s yours?”

The pup still stares, and Benny was worried before, but now he’s pretty certain he’s got an abused child on his hands. “How about your favorite flavor? My son loves a chocolate shake, but maybe you like vanilla?”

“Chocolate.”

“Alright, your tongue works. I’m glad to hear it. One chocolate shake coming right up.”

The girl smiles, and shivers.

“You cold?”

A nod.

Benny heads to his office to grab one of Wayne’s flannels, offering it slowly to her, smiling when she accepts it with a smile of her own. “Sit on down, I’ll be right over with that shake…”

“Eleven.”

The word reverberates through Benny’s brain. Marsha said the program was shuttered. That she was pretty sure Brenner wasn’t even in Indiana anymore. And yet here he has a pup with a number for a name in his diner.

They aren’t safe here. He’s not sure they’ll safe be anywhere. But he promised her a shake, his hands moving easily through the motions of making one, pouring it into a styrofoam to-go cup.

He needs to get her to Wayne, and then he needs to find his son.

❤️❤️❤️

Even with his barriers back in place, the school day is long for Steve. Exhausting.

Nancy smiles at him when he tells her he hopes they can still be friends; she’s heard, just like everyone else, about him and Eddie. She only looks a little sad, wistful maybe, as she says, “Sure, I still need my algebra study buddy.”

Billy glares a hole through Steve’s head, but Nancy sticks close to him until the bell rings, keeping anyone else from approaching. It’s a real kindness, one Steve wasn’t expecting. He hopes Billy doesn’t give Nancy a hard time over it.

During sixth period, Cartwright has the radio on while they do their lab work, an alert cutting into the broadcast asking for anyone with information regarding the whereabouts of 12-year-old Will Byers to contact the Hawkins PD.

The Byerses don’t live that far from Steve. If Will’s been missing since last night… But what good does knowing someone was scared do? He doesn’t know if it was Will or not. He doesn’t know anything for certain.

But he wants to help.

When the last bell finally rings, Steve rushes to meet Eddie, easily tucking himself against his alpha’s side as they make their way to the parking lot. Steve talks quietly, probably a bit too fast, trying to justify himself, “I don’t know why, but I can just- I feel it. In my gut. And it makes sense, if he was home that’d be pretty close, for a feeling that big, it might not even be out of my normal range. I just don’t know what to do, I should ask Mama-”

“Well, he’s right there,” Eddie interrupts, pointing across the lot to Benny, waiting outside his truck.

“He musta heard about Will, too. Got nervous. You know how he is.” Steve takes Eddie by the hand and drags him along as he half-runs to reach his mother.

Benny is silent, but he catches Steve to his chest, holding him so tight it hurts.

“Mama,” Steve whines, “You’re squishing me.”

“Hush,” Benny chides, but he relaxes his hold. “Baby, I need you to be extra careful right now. No talking to anyone you don’t know, no going anywhere you don’t need to, I don’t want you alone in that big house tonight-”

“Mama, I know Will Byers is missing. And I’m a little old for stranger danger.”

“This ain’t about Will Byers-”

“But I think I felt it, Mama! Will going missing.”

“What?”

Steve tries to explain again, and Benny quickly cuts him off. “We need to go.” Only then does he notice Steve still holding Eddie’s hand. “And when did this happen?”

“Last night.”

“Wayne owes me ten bucks.”

“Mama!”

“Not now. Eddie, we’re just going to your place, Wayne’s waiting, we’ll meet you there.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t I ride with Eddie?”

“Baby, I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know what’s going on.”

❤️❤️❤️

Eddie makes it back to the house first, surprised when he needs to pull his keys back out to unlock the door. Inside, the TV is on, and he can hear PBS playing from the living room. Normally, Wayne would be asleep, and with his hackles already raised by everything that’s happened so far, Eddie is on edge.

He walks in to find Wayne on the couch sitting next to a kid. A kid wrapped in a blanket, absolutely enthralled by the tranquility of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. “Um… Wayne?” Eddie asks, drawing his uncle’s attention.

“Hey,” Wayne says with a nod.

The front door opens again, hinges creaking. Steve and Benny come in behind Eddie, Steve’s eyes going wide as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh,” he whispers, staring at the kid, whose head snaps to him, their eyes locking.

“How’s she doing?” Benny asks, hands settling on Steve’s shoulders.

“Good. Nothing exciting to report since you left.”

Benny nods. “Steve, Eddie, meet Eleven.”

“Eleven,” Steve echoes, and the girl pushes to her feet, crawling out from her blanket.

She gives Eddie an appraising look, and moves past, tentatively reaching up toward’s Steve’s cheek. “Brother,” she whispers, her fingers still ghosting above his skin, not ready to make contact.

Steve leans into the touch, and his world explodes in a riot of pain and fear and confusion.

[baronessblixen]

O Holy No (1/10)

Using the last ten prompts from the 24 Days of the X-Mas Files Challenge to write a multi-chapter fic with angst, humor, and fluff in an alternate season 7.

Today's prompt is: sexy santa costume

Summary: It's Christmas time and Mulder and Scully are getting closer - or are they? And as a special gift for the season, Diana is around to wreak havoc, too. Only one thing is certain: it's going to be a Christmas to remember.

(Chapter one, wc: 1,103)

Tagging @today-in-fic

Four days til Christmas Eve and Scully feels giddy with excitement from head to toe. They closed their latest case, neither of them got injured or sick, and there’s nothing else to do until after the holidays. A rare moment in time and one she appreciates.

Mulder promised her that this year, he’d not even check any internet forums, and wouldn’t pick up the phone if anyone were to call him with a lead. She hasn’t asked him what he’s doing for Christmas yet this year and knows that if she invited him to her family Christmas, he’d decline. It's the same every year.

And this Christmas, she wouldn't just invite him to her mother's house. This time, they're celebrating in San Diego. If he were to come with her, it would mean more. And she’s not sure they’re ready for that particular more yet. As much as she wants to be. She’s caught herself daydreaming about catching Mulder under the mistletoe and fulfilling a fantasy she’s had for years.

Kissing him.

They’re getting closer. It’s as much in the air as the scent of fresh pine and gingerbread. Her heart pitter-pattered when Mulder asked her if she was busy after they got home. Said he wanted to exchange Christmas presents before she left for San Diego. She said yes. They’re not even pretending they didn't get each other anything for Christmas this time like they did last year. This year they’re unabashedly honest. At least about the fact that they got each other gifts. She’s been carrying one of his gifts with her for a while. It’s nothing special, just something she thought funny, and that she hopes he’ll appreciate.

“After exchanging gifts,” Mulder says, fetching his keys from his coat pocket and glancing at her. “Would you like to stay and watch a movie?” The way he blushes makes her smile. They’ve known each other for seven years, and they’ve spent countless hours together, and yet, he blushes asking her this.

“I’d like that,” she replies with a soft smile. Mulder unlocks his door with his eyes still fixated on her face. He’s grinning from ear to ear and Scully has to stop herself from not just skipping a few steps and jumping his bones. She’s the rational one here, after all.

“I think I know what- what the fuck.”

Scully doesn’t register right away what made Mulder stop dead in his tracks as she’s about to take off her coat. She stops with her arms mid-air when she sees what Mulder is seeing too. There, in front of his desk, surrounded by soft glowing Christmas lights, stands Diana. Wearing a tiny Santa costume, a smile, and not much else.

“There you are,” she says sounding chipper. There’s not a hint of discomfort on her face or in her behavior. She glances at Scully and blinks, but then her attention is back on Mulder. “You should have called and said you’d be late.” She throws herself at him and he catches her – much to Scully’s chagrin.

“Did you drive Fox home?” Diana asks Scully with raised eyebrows. Up close, she can get a good look at the other woman. Who isn’t at all shy, despite Scully’s presence. As if, as Mulder’s partner, she was of no consequence to Diana. The other woman is waiting for her to say something. But what? Scully’s mouth is dry. She fears that if she does open her mouth, she will be sick.

What she knows for sure is that this sight will haunt her for years to come. Diana’s dress clings to her, revealing every curve the woman has. Except where the dress ends mid-thigh. Scully wishes she could close her eyes, cover her ears, and run out of here. Her heart tightens, and so does her throat, when she realizes what this means.

The way Diana is acting, the way she’s not as all taken aback, she knew when Mulder was coming home. Meaning he must have told her. Which also means he knew she would be here. Diana is still hanging from his neck, and while Mulder looks pale and surprised, Scully doesn’t think it’s because of Diana. It’s because he forgot she was here and he invited her in. She was never supposed to see this, or know about this.

Her fantasy crumbles like a dry piece of cake. There’s not going to be a kiss under the mistletoe for her and Mulder. There’s not going to be a shift in their relationship. All these little moments she’s accumulated over the months amount to nothing. His touches weren’t lingering, his smiles weren’t brighter. Or if they were, it was because of Diana. Knowing she was waiting for him at home. Knowing he had someone to come home to. Who knew Mulder would get out of the car before she did – and with someone else, too.

“I’m just- I’m gonna go,” she says, falling over her words as much as her feet.

“Good idea,” Diana says sweetly. There’s bloody red lipstick on her teeth when she gives Scully a devilish smile. All the fight has gone out of Scully and she finds herself walking backward towards the door.

“Scully, wait,” Mulder says, shaking a clingy Diana off, who pouts at him. For a moment, though, his full attention is on Scully. There’s a haunted look in his eyes and he’s pleading with his words, and his gestures, but Scully barely hears him. She backs away, needing the distance between them.

“This is not what it looks like,” he says.

“Don’t lie to her, Fox.”

“I’m not lying.” His voice is menacing when he turns back around, addressing Diana. “I don’t even know how you got in here.”

“You gave me your key last time, remember?” It’s that last blow. Her words feel like a slap and Scully gasps. Tears sting her eyes, and she knows that if she doesn’t leave right away, she will break down in front of Diana, and she refuses to give the other woman that satisfaction.

“I’m leaving,” she says so quietly she’s not sure either Diana or Mulder hear. And if she’s honest, she doesn’t even care. She needs to get away and lick her wounds. Alone.

“Scully, please.” But she just keeps going, the clack of her heels her only companion because Mulder isn’t running after her. She keeps the tears at bay until she’s in a cab on her way back home.

How could she have read these last few months so wrong?

And when, she can’t help but wonder, did Mulder and Diana start dating?