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The olive green velvet armchair usually sits empty in the corner of your living room. It looks right at home there, next to the overstuffed bookshelf and thrifted floor lamp, but you rarely sit there. It was just a hand-me-down from someone in your family, not something you sought out on your own, and unfortunately, it isn’t terribly comfortable for reading.
Today, you finally put it to good use.
It takes very little convincing to get Leon stripped down and seated, ravenous and ready for you. A few sweet compliments, a bat of your lashes, some pawing near his crotch, and he’s putty. But instead of settling yourself on the floor between his knees, you get a different idea.
After kicking off the last of your clothes, you brace your hands on Leon’s shoulders and kneel over his lap, legs spread wide. He holds your waist, steadying you as you hover over him. His chin tips back as he looks up at you with equal parts awe and hunger. Softly, he presses a kiss to your stomach as he relaxes into the plush chair, pulling you closer. With his grip keeping you balanced, you lower your hips and slowly grind back to front, then in circles.
Leon’s head drops back then bobs forward when you hit just the right spot. He groans, his lids fluttering while you get wet just from the friction. You start to glide over the ridges of his hard cock, and desire overcomes him, thick and sharp like pulses of electricity. His mouth finds your nipple to toy with, one hand massaging the opposite breast while his forehead softly grazes your sternum.
You hum sweetly for him, pressing your lips together to hold in the sound, but there’s only so much you can control as he turns what was supposed to be a treat for him into worship and praise lavished upon you. Admittedly, your legs are already getting tired, but it’s no big deal for Leon, who takes your waist in his hands and moves you up and down his length, teasing you as your heat builds.
“Gorgeous,” he mumbles, licking a stripe up your chest, and you shudder. His fingers dig into your sides when you moan for him.
“Ride me, yeah?” he asks.
“Please,” you beg, even though you don’t need to.
Leon guides you down to take all of him. His hips helplessly buck upwards at the familiar squeeze of you, and he draws in a heavy breath before sighing it out. Blissed out, you curl forward, burying your face in his neck as he bounces you on his cock.
“I got you,” he promises. You don’t have to do anything but enjoy it. There’s something slightly different at this angle, somewhere that shivers inside you that his curve doesn’t typically reach. You’re almost there, just need a little more, and you reach down to swirl your clit until your breath catches in your throat.
Your legs shake, and you reach your peak with Leon’s name ripped from your lips. You’re helpless, clenching and fluttering as he rocks your hips faster, faster, and then he breaks too with something between a swear and a whimper.
Panting, he strokes your back, dewy with sweat, and kisses your shoulder, your crown, whatever he can reach with you tucked safely in his embrace. It’s ages before you stop seeing stars. Gathering your wherewithal, you melt into slow, lingering kisses—an unspoken vow of love.
Then Leon snorts to himself.
“What?” you ask.
“Just trying to remember if there are any pieces of furniture we haven’t desecrated yet,” he jokes.
Summary: What did it matter, though? What use was freedom to a dog who only knew how to bite? While navigating the challenges of looking after Lena, Pope meets a children's librarian with her own troubled past.
18+ MDNI
A/N: More chapters coming soon. No set upload schedule. Expect spoilers through the beginning of Animal Kingdom Season 3, but this fic is mostly canon-divergent.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: emotional manipulation, grief/mourning, loss of parent(s), implied/referenced self-harm, bullying, canon-typical violence, crisis of faith, trauma, mental health issues
•••••••
Even before moving into Baz’s house on The Strand, Pope didn’t sleep much. But the memories that lived there only made it worse.
He kept the door to the master bedroom shut. There was a pillow on the couch, for whenever he did manage to close his eyes for a few hours. It put him closer to Lena, and he could listen to the steady rhythm of the ocean.
Bad memories slipped into his dreams. Cath’s fearful desperation, her pleading gaze. “It should have been you.” Lena watching him heat milk on the stovetop. “But I am sad.” Baz angrily pacing at the kitchen counter. “You got any other parenting tips for me, man?” Kneeling on the beach, Baz’s hands cradling his face. “I forgive you. You hear me? I forgive you. I love you, brother—I’ll take care of you, always. Always.”
Whenever he woke in a cold sweat, he would check on Lena and then take a shower, making sure the water was hot enough to hurt. Maybe it was a small way of punishing himself, or something to distract from the ache of grief. Hell, maybe it was both.
This afternoon, however, he was more preoccupied with the letter from Lena’s teacher—enough that it took him a moment to realize Deran had entered through the sliding glass door.
“You didn’t hear me knocking?” his younger brother asked, brow furrowed.
Pope shook his head. “There’s coffee,” he muttered.
“Nah, I’m good.” Deran glanced around, taking in the magazines stacked neatly on the coffee table, the stuffed bunny seated upright on the armchair by the TV, the kitchen countertops, scrubbed spotless and devoid of clutter.
His gaze lingered on the pillow and rumpled blanket tossed to one end of the couch. “You sleeping out here?”
“Bed’s uncomfortable.” Pope finally looked up at him, brandishing the letter. “What kind of kid bullies a sweet little girl about her dead dad?”
Deran sat down opposite him, elbows resting on the counter as he leaned forward. “Lena’s getting bullied at school?”
“Someone kicked her…” Pope’s jaw clenched as he looked back down at the teacher’s report. “A couple girls cornered her in a bathroom, and they told her that her dad was a criminal.”
“Jesus…” Deran ran a hand through his hair, startlingly short after a recent cut. “That’s fucked up.”
Pope frowned. “And what else is going on that her teacher doesn’t know about?” His voice grows quieter. “Lena won’t talk to me. But I know she’s having nightmares, and she wakes up every day, and she says she’s sick, she doesn’t want to go to school… And what, I’m supposed to make her go? This shit is happening every day.”
Deran hesitated, then asked, “Are you getting any help with her?”
Stubbornly, Pope replied, “I don’t need help.”
He kept the house tidy. Made sure Lena had clean clothes. Bought groceries. Cooked decent enough meals. He never yelled, and he was there, which was more than he could say for Baz—
No. Not that. Even as the thought occurred to him, he recoiled from it, its sharp edges too painful to navigate right now.
“Bullshit.” Deran looked pissed, but there was a familiar softness in his gaze. “I know I’m not around a lot, but I can try to make time. You can’t do this all on your own, man. It’s not good for you.”
Silence stretched between them, until Pope finally relented. “Yeah, okay…”
“Talk to her teacher about the bullying. And she liked ballet, right? Sign her up again. Or find some other kid stuff for her to do. There’s gotta be something.”
Pope nodded, and it was apparently a suitable enough answer for his brother.
Standing from his stool, Deran reached out and clapped a hand on Pope’s shoulder, warm and steady.
“It’s just us now. Who knows when or if Smurf’s gonna get out of jail. And we don’t need her anyway—you don’t need her.”
This pain wasn’t sharp. It was too deep for that—an old wound that yawned at the very center of him, dark and ugly. He could never look at it head-on, only in furtive glimpses. As if acknowledging it, naming it, might break him in ways that couldn’t be fixed.
Halfway out the door, Deran called back, “And buy a new bed. You’re too old to be crashing on the couch.”
At that, the corner of Pope’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
•••••••
That night, after a dinner of chicken nuggets and boxed mac and cheese (with broccoli thrown in, much to a certain seven-year-old’s dismay), Pope booted up Baz’s old laptop while Lena watched an episode of UniKitty! Earlier, they had sat at the dining table together, working through her multiplication homework.
First, Pope searched “oceanside california kids events,” which gave him information about Harbor Beach, the California Surf Museum, and Guajome Park. Swapping “events” for “programs” pulled up links for summer camps and cooking classes. But the top result was the Oceanside Public Library.
The website was colorful and organized. He navigated to the events calendar and slowly scrolled through, looking for anything Lena might enjoy.
Storybook Tea Time. Friday at 4pm. There was no registration fee, snacks and drinks would be provided, and the kids would do some kind of arts and crafts thing before watching a movie.
“We’re going to the library after I pick you up from school tomorrow,” he told Lena as he tucked her in an hour later.
“Why?” She smelled like strawberry shampoo from her bath, and she was wearing her favorite butterfly pajamas.
Pope watched as she snuggled under the covers with her current favorite stuffed animal, a green dragon with sparkly wings.
“They’re having a party. It’ll be fun. You like books, right?” She nodded. “Maybe you’ll make some new friends.”
“What if they don’t like me?”
He thought about her teacher’s letter, the bullying, the look of relief on Lena’s face when she ran to him at afternoon pickup today and hugged him tight.
“We don’t gotta stay,” he murmured. “Only if you want to. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Bending down, he kissed her forehead. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Uncle Pope.”
After making sure her nightlight was plugged in, he started to pull the double doors to her bedroom shut when Lena whispered, “What if I have a bad dream?”
“I’ll be right out here,” he assured her. “I promise.”
Only when Pope heard her breaths slow into a steady, slumbering rhythm did he step out onto the front porch. It was a clear night. There was a bonfire burning further down the beach. When he looked down the street at neighboring houses, he could see some still had Halloween decorations up.
It was yet another reminder of time passing. Two months since Baz’s murder, and Pope wasn’t any closer to finding out who killed him.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he scrolled through recent calls and texts. One missed call from Central Valley Women’s Prison—Smurf. A text from Craig, who was back in Mexico with Renn: a photo of a tiny gecko clinging to a window overlooking lush foliage. A brief exchange with J, checking in on the state of the family’s finances.
And then there were several calls from Lucy. Their conversations had been brief. She was convinced that Smurf had Baz killed. Pope disagreed. When she asked if it was because he thought Smurf was incapable of ordering a hit on one of her boys, or if Pope just didn’t want to admit how likely it was, he’d hung up on her.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care. Of course he fucking cared. Baz had been shot in the driveway of this house. He would never see Lena grow up. And Pope would never know how things might have been, after the truth came out about Cath—what he had done, all because Smurf wanted her gone.
But Lena… She needed him. Their situation was precarious. With his criminal record, DCFS could decide he wasn’t a suitable guardian. They could take her away, put her in the foster system.
Pope couldn’t let that happen—he wouldn’t.
As he slipped back inside, locking the sliding glass door behind him, he numbly recalled his last night with Amy. Asking her if forgiveness was possible. Wanting to know if Jesus could ever love someone like him—someone who had done something horrible, something he could never take back.
Deep down, he suspected the answer was no.
•••••••
Pope couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped foot in a public library.
At Folsom, there had been shelves packed full with donated books—mass market paperbacks, dog-eared hardcovers, law textbooks, self-help guides, an absurd number of James Patterson titles, copies of the Bible in multiple languages…
Some inmates spent most of their time in the library, working to improve their overall literacy or earn credit for college courses. Pope had never been a big reader, even before dropping out of school. But he’d liked The Outsiders and To Kill a Mockingbird.
The Oceanside Public Library was large and bright, with tall ceilings, white walls, and rounded archways painted in various shades of blue. Wooden bookcases stood in between doorways branching off from the central lobby, and carefully arranged tables showcased local authors and the most popular new releases.
An older woman with short gray hair sat at the front desk, reading glasses perched on her nose as she typed away at her computer. Looking up, she smiled brightly at both Pope and Lena.
“Welcome! Are you looking for the children’s section?”
Lena’s little hand grasped at his jeans as Pope nodded. “There’s a, uh… tea party today?” he asked, as if the words were foreign to him.
“Oh, yes! I peeked in earlier, while they were setting up.” The librarian pointed to a doorway at the far end of the room. “Right through there.”
Pope murmured his thanks and placed a hand on Lena’s back, guiding her along.
The children’s reading room was also painted in whites and blues, but there were colorful plastic chairs placed around kid-sized tables, overstuffed bean bags patterned with pastel rainbow stripes, and laminated posters on the walls: Open a Book, Grow Your Mind! Today a Reader, Tomorrow a Leader!
Opposite the squat rows of shelves was an open space with a big rug designed to look like the ocean, complete with sea turtles, an octopus, and fish of all sizes.
It was clear that the library staff had decorated for the event. Paper stars hung from the ceiling. A nearby table was set up with small plastic teacups, a platter of cookies, and two pitchers of juice. Another table was laden with what looked like craft supplies—wire hoops, pipe cleaners, ribbons, artificial flowers…
“Here for the tea party?”
Pope turned and met the gaze of a young woman. In contrast to the older librarian’s polka-dotted blouse and pressed pants, she wore a costume dress with long, flowing sleeves and ribbons that laced up the front. Her hair was braided and pinned at the back of her head, topped by a crown of pink and purple flowers.
When he managed a nod, she crouched down to Lena’s eye level, smiling warmly. “Hi there. I’m Tessa. What’s your name?”
“Lena…” Her voice was soft and hesitant.
“That’s a beautiful name.” Tessa pointed to a clothing rack on the other side of the room. “Do you want to come with me to pick out some fairy wings, Lena? We have a whole bunch of colors you can choose from.”
Lena looked up at Pope, silently asking permission, and he gave another small nod before murmuring, “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”
He watched as Lena took Tessa’s hand and walked away. Normally, he would have followed. He had a hard time trusting strangers, especially when it came to his niece. But something in the way the woman—Tessa—had spoken to her, how she had waited for Lena to reach out first, eased some of the tension coiled in his shoulders.
Still, he remained nearby. He watched as Lena selected a pair of blue fairy wings, edged with silver glitter. Tessa introduced her to the other little girls present, and Lena sat with them at the crafting table as another librarian—a twenty-something with lavender hair and a nose ring—walked them through how to make their own flower crowns.
Pope was hovering close enough to hear when Lena asked Tessa, “Can you braid my hair like yours?”
“Of course! I have some extras here somewhere…” Tessa dug around in her dress pockets until she produced a handful of bobby pins and elastic hair ties.
She sat Lena down facing away from her and deftly began to separate the little girl’s long hair into even sections.
Pope hadn’t realized he was walking over until he stood beside Tessa, just over her left shoulder. When she looked up at him, he gruffly asked, “Can you… show me how to do it?”
Since becoming Lena’s full-time caregiver, he had tried to learn what to do with her hair. Watching videos didn’t prove as helpful as he’d hoped, and Lena herself could only manage a ponytail or a simple side braid.
Tessa’s gaze softened. “Yeah, definitely. Pull up a seat. I’ll go slow, so you can see each step.”
And so there Pope was, hunched over in a too-small chair, watching with rapt attention as Tessa’s fingers moved through Lena’s hair—sectioning both sides, showing him where to start each braid, repeating aloud every movement as she did it. Once she had two braids, she showed him how to tuck them up against the back of Lena’s head, inserting bobby pins to keep them in place.
When she was finished, she picked up Lena’s flower crown, full of blue blooms to match her fairy wings, and placed it atop her head.
“Look at you!” Tessa beamed as Lena hopped to her feet and spun around. “A proper fairy princess.”
Lena smiled, big and joyful, and Pope’s chest ached at the sight. When was the last time he had seen her smile like that? Before Baz died? Before Cath—
He furtively pushed that thought away, instead forcing himself to focus on what Tessa was saying.
“We’re gonna watch a movie soon. Have you ever seen The Swan Princess?” Lena shook her head. “It came out a long time ago,” Tessa told her, “back when I was even younger than you.”
She pointed to where her coworker was arranging the beanbags in front of a large projector screen. “Go grab a seat. We’ll bring out some popcorn soon.”
Lena dashed off, and Pope watched as she sat beside a blonde girl with glasses. The both of them were talking animatedly, Lena turning her head this way and that, showing off her braids.
“Sorry—I never got your name.”
Tessa was speaking to him now, her smile sweetly apologetic.
“Andrew Cody.”
She nodded in Lena’s direction. “She told me you’re her uncle.”
“Yeah.” He hesitated before explaining, “Her dad died a couple months ago. And her mom’s gone.” That last word, “gone,” stuck in his throat a little. He hoped Tessa didn’t notice.
“Oh, wow… I’m so sorry.” She stood and gestured for him to join her. “C’mon. Jennie’s got the kids handled. We can talk over here.”
She led him to the reference desk, a wooden half-circle with two office chairs behind it. Leaning against the wide surface, she crossed her arms, brow furrowed with concern. “Her dad was your brother?”
Pope nodded, standing beside her. “Adopted—different last name, but… yeah.”
Tessa gave him a sympathetic look. “That’s awful… Has she been holding up okay?”
He wasn’t used to fielding so many questions. Some part of him instinctively wanted to put up walls, shut her out, give short, vague answers until she stopped asking. After all, that was his usual tactic.
In his experience, people didn’t really want to hear the truth—they were just fulfilling a social obligation, giving a performance of compassion. Some were more convincing than others.
But for whatever reason, it all felt different coming from her.
“She doesn’t talk about it,” he said, his voice quiet as the movie began to play. “I don’t know if that’s normal or not.”
Tessa nodded, following his gaze over his shoulder to where Lena sat. “It’s a lot for someone her age to be dealing with,” she murmured. “When you’re a kid going through something like that, it can feel impossibly big.”
“Yeah.”
“Has she seen a grief counselor?”
Pope automatically stiffened, his expression darkening. Every shrink he’d ever talked to had been useless—some smug white coat who made assumptions about his “troubled childhood” and tried to determine the root cause of his “violent nature.” Like he was nothing but fodder for a future case study.
“If she doesn’t wanna talk, how would that help?” he asked, voice rough.
Tessa turned to face him, speaking with a practiced sort of patience, as if unsurprised by his reaction.
“She might be worried about making you sad. As strange as it sounds, she might find it easier to talk to someone she doesn’t know—someone who has a lot of experience with helping kids her age through parental loss.”
She might be worried about making you sad.
Pope’s arms went slack against his sides. Fuck… Was that what was happening?
He remembered how sensitive Lena had been to Baz’s shifting moods, how her behavior changed depending on the volume of his voice or the sharpness of his words. Even now, she grew quiet whenever Pope was deep in his own thoughts.
Could she tell how much Pope was hurting, even though he tried his best to hide it? Was she keeping her own feelings bottled up because she cared too much about his?
He sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
Tessa didn’t reprimand him for his language. She simply placed a hand on his arm, giving it a small, comforting squeeze before pulling away. “Here—hold on a sec…”
She quickly rounded the desk, the hem of her dress fluttering behind her. Pope watched as she opened a drawer, then another, sorting through stacks of papers and folders until she found what she was looking for.
Returning to his side, she showed him the first printout. “Once a month, we have a mental health drop-in. Sunset Coast Therapy, a local practice, comes to the library and offers free counseling services.”
“Free?” Pope echoed, surprised.
“Yeah. Cost is an issue for a lot of people,” she explained, “so it’s an opportunity for them to get the care they need without worrying about being able to afford it.”
When Pope remained silent, staring down at the flier, she quickly amended, “Not that I think you can’t—I mean, I’m not trying to assume—”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs. “Thanks.”
Tessa seemed relieved as she flipped to the other paper. “And this is our events calendar for next month. Some are for toddlers and younger kids—storytimes, things like that. But there’s a few on here Lena might enjoy.”
Plucking a highlighter from a nearby cup of pens, Tessa bent over the reference desk and began making notes. “She said she likes to draw. We have some art days coming up… here and here. We’ll be watching Paddington in a couple weeks and doing a fun little bear craft…”
Pope did his best to listen and follow along. But he found himself paying more attention to the way she spoke—with such earnest enthusiasm and kindness. He wasn’t used to that, at all. His gaze wandered, shifting from the printed calendar to her profile.
A few curls had escaped from her braids, poking out under the peonies that crowned her head. Her nose scrunched a little when she was focused. There was a small swipe of glitter on her cheek, whether from handling the fairy wings or helping the kids with their crowns. And as he leaned in closer to look at the activities she was highlighting, he could smell a faint hint of floral perfume, along with printer ink and apple juice.
“Here. You can keep these.” Tessa handed him both papers, and Pope blinked, looking down at the marked-up calendar. “And you probably need a library card, right?”
He looked up at her, his expression settling into its usual blankness. “A card?”
“To check out books. We also have DVDs and Blu-rays, CDs, instruments and STEM kits for kids, kitchen supplies, baking pans, recreational stuff like backyard tents and bike pumps…”
“Oh. That’s… cool.”
As a comfortable silence stretched between them, she grabbed a form from a small stack and placed it in front of him, along with a ballpoint pen. “Just fill that out, and I’ll grab a card for you.”
By the time the movie was over, Pope had a brand new library card tucked into his wallet, the papers Tessa had given him now folded in his pocket.
Lena was pleasantly worn out, fingers salty from popcorn, fairy wings dusting the arms of Pope’s dark jacket with faint traces of glitter. When she began to shrug out of them, Tessa gently stopped her.
“Go ahead and keep them,” she urged Lena, her smile warm. “They look perfect on you.”
Lena smiled shyly and grabbed Pope’s hand, swinging it back and forth. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. It was great to meet you.”
Pope gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Say bye, Lena.”
His voice was soft in that way it always was with her—only ever with her. It wasn’t even something he did consciously. It simply was, like an undeniable fact of nature.
“Bye, Miss Tess.”
Tessa gave her a small wave. “Bye, Lena.” Then she looked up at Pope. “Bye, Andrew. Thanks for talking with me.”
Pope’s lips tugged up at the corners, something in the set of his brow relaxing just a little.
I’ve been thinking about how one of the things Lucanis can say to Rook in his romance scene is, “Would you talk to me? Your voice is a comfort.”
And the fact that Rook’s voice was the first kind one he had heard after a year of captivity and torture.
A year of Zara and Calivan saying he’s a failure, that he’s a “useless abomination,” that nothing is waiting for him, that he’s “long dead.”
He tells Davrin that, in order to survive it all, he had to “shut down completely. Think nothing. Feel nothing. Except what you need to escape.”
And then Rook showed up to save him. And the first thing they said is, “I’m guessing you’re the reason we’re here.”
They opened door after door to help him escape, and it reminded him that there’s plenty waiting for him on the other side of this — including someone who doesn’t hesitate to show him kindness, even after realizing he’s possessed by a demon.
Rook’s voice is a comfort because it makes him feel safe, and seen, for exactly who he is now, and wanted all the same.
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Lucanis is surprised to find you in the kitchen when he returns from a visit to Treviso.
Typically, he and Bellara take turns cooking meals for the team, with an occasional assist from Emmrich or Neve. Davrin claims he’s only decent at stews and soups, while Harding has surmised that it’s better for her to stick to basic meals — and even then, Lucanis is tempted to supervise. And the last time Taash made a traditional Rivaini dish for everyone, it was so spicy that no one else could finish their portions.
“What are you making?” he asks you, his gaze wary as he crosses the room.
Picking up on his tone, you laugh. “Don’t look so scared. I promise I won’t set the place on fire.”
A small smile tugs at his lips as he moves to stand beside you, peering down into the pot sitting on the magical stovetop. “It smells good,” he murmurs. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”
Resting your hip against the countertop, you tell him, “It’s cacio e pepe. You couldn’t tell?”
“Oh, I could. I just didn’t want to get my hopes up.” He closes his eyes and inhales, the scent taking him back to his childhood. “I didn’t realize you knew any Antivan recipes.”
“Just this one,” you tell him, glancing away. “I’ve been wanting to help out more —”
He raises an eyebrow. “You do plenty already.”
“— and I thought you would like it.”
The admission catches him by surprise, and he briefly finds himself at a loss for words. The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for Spite, whose voice seems to echo in the deep recesses of his mind.
She learned to make it just for you, he whispers, sounding both amused and delighted. When Lucanis gives a small shake of his head, Spite merely snickers, pleased with himself.
Realizing that he’s now been quiet for much too long, Lucanis looks back up at you before grabbing a bowl and helping himself. It’s clear that you’re trying not to stare as he expertly twirls the noodles onto his fork and takes a bite. But your nervous gaze gives you away…
… until relief floods your expression when he smiles softly and murmurs, “It’s perfect.”
What he truly wants to say — You’re perfect. — remains a secret. For now, at least.
After you’ve been laid off from your job, your friend Rangiku recommends a very specific kind of dating app — one where rich, lonely men seek younger partners to spoil. Reluctantly, you decide to give it a try. You tell yourself it’s a one-time thing, and that you have no plans on becoming dependent on anyone, let alone falling for them. But Sosuke Aizen makes you rethink everything.
Toshinori Yagi should be excited. He’s living abroad in America and enrolled as a freshman at the renowned California Institute of Hero Studies. Instead, he’s struggling to balance his bright and sunny public persona with his personal anxieties and debilitating grief. But when he meets you, he begins to find his footing and realize there’s a place for him here after all. In the midst of beach trips and frat parties, hero training and internships, setbacks and tragedy, he finds lifelong friends, a renewed sense of purpose, and, most unexpectedly, love.
I enjoy reading, writing, painting, cooking, and yoga. I’m a homebody, but I also really love traveling. My last solo trip was to London. I have six tattoos. I’m a former college professor + technical writer. Full-time AI hater.
My asks are always open! Feel free to come chat with me.
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You never expected to become friends with your intimidating, tattooed classmate, Sukuna. But you soon find yourself spending more and more time with him — studying together, meeting his friends, seeing each other over breaks. As the two of you grow closer, you realize there’s much more to him than his bad boy persona implies — and that your feelings for him are becoming harder to ignore…
Spellbound (Nanami x Reader)
Stuck between jobs and desperate for something, anything, that will pay your rent, you reply to a strange help wanted ad seeking a personal assistant. You get more than you bargained for when you realize that your serious, straight-laced, and obnoxiously-attractive employer is a powerful sorcerer — and you’ve been recruited as his unwitting apprentice. Determined to exceed his expectations, you study in earnest, growing closer to him in the process.
Sweet Tooth (Gojo x Reader)
It’s not too surprising when you find out that the latest occupant of the apartment next door is a vampire. What is surprising is how much you have in common, despite a centuries-long age gap. The fact that he’s sexy as hell is just an added bonus. But you have to remind yourself that you can’t possibly have a future together. Or can you?
When you meet a handsome stranger at the hotel bar, you decide to make some terrible decisions. But where’s the harm in a one-night stand? It’s not like you’re going to catch feelings, let alone see him again… Right?
In the Woods (Kenny x Reader)
While hiking at your local park, you wander from the trail and meet a man in the woods. He’s not exactly what he seems, but the more time you spend with him, the more enthralled you become. As your feelings for him change and deepen, you learn the secrets of the strange forest in which he resides. But some secrets have teeth, and you will have to decide what’s more important — your love or your humanity.
Heartbreaker (Zeke x Reader)
You’re excited to start your first year of teaching at Marley Prep, an exclusive private high school… until you’re introduced to your assigned faculty mentor, Zeke Jaeger. You haven’t seen him in almost ten years — when he broke your heart in college. He seems different now, but will you be able to stay friends? Or will everything fall apart as your feelings towards him grow more complicated?
More Than Maybe (Reiner x Reader)
While working at a hospital café, you’ve somehow fallen head-over-heels for one of your regulars, Reiner Braun. You see him every Wednesday, and even though you’ve had many conversations over the past few months, he’s still something of a mystery. But when his secret is revealed, you worry things may never be the same.
Love Languages (Bertholdt x Reader)
You have an ongoing arrangement with the florist across the street. He brings you flowers every week, and you allow him to borrow as many books as he likes from your small shop. When you realize that the flowers are more than just beautiful — they confess something you never expected — you have to decide how best to convey your own feelings in response.
How Sweet It Is (Miche x Reader)
When your car gets stuck in the snow, you take shelter from the storm in a nearby bakery. And as luck would have it, the very handsome owner is the same “Greek god among men” (per your friend) who made your birthday cupcakes. As the two of you pass the time and grow closer, drinking whiskey-spiked hot chocolate and shamelessly flirting, you find comfort when you need it most.
Buttercream (Reiner x Bertholdt x Reader)
What better way to celebrate Bertholdt’s birthday than to give him anything he wants?
Just My Luck (Nile x Reader)
You’re sent to Las Vegas on a work trip, and you can’t seem to catch a break. To make matters worse, you’re stuck with your office nemesis, Nile Dok. But when Sin City works its magic and leaves you both in an unexpected situation, you start to wonder if there’s more to him than his gruff, snarky attitude suggests.
Private Show (Nile x Reader)
NOTE: This is a bonus scene that takes place after the events of Just My Luck.
Nile is out of town, and you notice something different about him. On top of that, you’re both feeling a little lonely. Let’s see if you can fix that…
Heat Waves (Nile x Reader)
Nile Dok had no intention of ever seeing his daughters’ babysitter in lingerie. But after a private dance gone wrong at Miche’s bachelor party, he’s forced to confront his shameful feelings and remind himself they will never be reciprocated… Or so he thinks.
Into Your Open Arms (Zeke x Reader x Erwin)
Zeke is finding it difficult to carry the weight of his past life, while Erwin must reconcile his decision to move on from a past relationship. In the midst of their struggles, they meet you and wonder if it really might be possible to have a better future and lay their troubling memories to rest.
Just a Kiss (Zeke x Reader)
“Have you ever thought about it?”
"About what?"
He leans in closer, gaze flickering down to your lips for just a moment. "Kissing someone else. Seeing what it's like."
Deeper Into You (Erwin x Reader)
Your friends convince you to go to a traveling circus. While they're distracted with magic acts and other attractions, you explore the grounds and stumble upon something truly fantastical.
Four Christmases (Erwin x Reader)
You’re supposed to be on a tropical vacation, but instead, you’re snowed in at the airport on Christmas Eve. Little do you know then that the man you meet will be in your life for many Christmases to come.
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
2087
stormborns
titsay
