#I know this room I’ve walked this floor

[ripcupid]

hiiii I have a request

Can you write Sevika x fem!reader whose insecure about having a large labia minora? Lots of body worship + praise 💗💗💗 big labia girlies are never rlly represented n it breaks my heart, but only write it if ur comfy Ofc!!!

୨୧ I feel like this mostly focused on body worship, it just has lots of compliments ngl

୨୧ word count : 1.8k

୨୧ also thank y’all sm for over 2,000 notes on my last 2 fics I’ve been bother my bsf abt it sm.

“Come on, baby,��� Sevika calls out before plopping down on the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You reluctantly walk out of the bathroom, Sevika's eyes trailing over your dress as you stand shy before her.

"I don't think I like it, Sev," you mumble, brushing down the fabric nervously, unable to meet her eyes as she stares at you.

"C'mere, baby," Sevika beckons softly, trying to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as you step closer.

She pulls you down onto her thigh and wraps her arms around you, her face buried in your neck, kissing softly as she whispers, "I think you look so pretty, far too pretty for anyone else to see."

Your cheeks flush at her words, chuckling softly as warmth spreads through you at the feeling of her hands roaming over your thighs and her lips trailing gentle kisses along your jawline.

"Thank you, Sevi," you murmur, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in front of you, feeling embarrassed as you meet Sevika's eyes for a second before looking away shyly.

"Maybe we should just skip the gala and stay here tonight," she suggests, her voice low as she whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod, your breathing growing heavier as you get lost in the sound of her voice and the feeling of her touch. "Yeah, does that sound good?"

"Yes," you breathe out softly, clinging onto her bicep as she nuzzles into your neck, the scent of your perfume clouding her senses. You can feel her smirk against your skin as she kisses your jaw, moving her lips to meet yours in a deep and passionate kiss.

As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your body closer to hers. Sevika's hand slides up your back, her human hand holding your face gently, while her mechanical hand rests on the curve of your ass, groping you possessively. You can't help but melt against her lips, whining softly as she pulls away, leaving you pouting and wanting more.

"Don't do that," she whispers in the small space, her gray eyes locking with yours as she strokes your cheek. Sevika's thumb brushes against your lips making you feel vulnerable as she stares at your parted lips.

"I wanna see all of you, baby," she murmurs, flicking her eyes back up to yours. You shiver under her intense gaze, slowly getting off her lap and facing the mirror as she sits behind you, her hand sliding down your legs.

Sevika stands up behind, tracing up the zipper of your dress with her fingertips, her breath hot against your neck as she whispers, "Let me show you how pretty you are."

You feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as she slowly begins to unzip your dress, the anticipation building with each passing moment. You nervously bite down on your lip, your face burning as Sevika pushes the dress off your shoulders, revealing your skin to the cool air of the room.

As the dress falls to the floor, Sevika bites her lip, her eyes roaming over your exposed body before locking yours through the mirror. "Don't be so shy," she chuckles, moving on to quickly undo your bra and letting it fall to the ground.

"This is kinda embarrassing, Sev," you mumble, curling in on yourself slightly. Sevika's soft laughter fills the room as she brushes back your hair to expose your neck, planting a gentle kiss on your skin.

"Just relax and let me make you feel so fucking good," she whispers, walking you over and onto the bed, pulling your back against her chest, "You know I can, baby." Her hands cup your tits, kneading them gently as she leans in to kiss your neck, sucking lightly on your skin.

You close your eyes and let out the sweetest whimper as she pinches and pulls on the sensitive buds, rolling her thumbs over to soothe them. Sevika rests her chin on your shoulder, her warm breath fanning against your ear as she whispers, "Open those eyes, baby," she commands softly, "look at me."

You comply, making her smile as you meet her gaze in the mirror. "I want you to watch me, okay?" she murmurs, "I'll stop if you look away."

"Okay," you breathe out, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. Sevika chuckles softly when she catches your eager movements, her human hand sliding down your stomach before stopping just above where you need her most.

"Good girl," she praises, her voice low and husky. "Now, spread those legs for me." You nibble on your bottom lip, feeling the dampness between your legs grow as Sevika squeezes your thighs gently.

"C'mon," she coaxes, "let me see you." Your breathing hitches as you slowly part your legs, shivering as the cool air hits your covered cunt, making you ache for her touch. Sevika's eyes darken as she takes in the sight before her, a wicked grin playing on her lips.

"Oh, baby," she groans, her fingers trailing lightly along your inner thighs. You shy away from the mirror, unable to look at yourself as Sevika cups core, slowly rubbing you through your ruined panties.

You twitch in her grasp as she lands a light smack your cunt, making your thighs close around her hand as you let out a choked moan. "Eyes," she commands, waiting for you to meet her gaze before continuing.

You meet her eyes and spread your legs again, unable to stop yourself from glancing down at how Sevika's hand easily covers your cunt.

"Good girl," she coos, placing her legs over yours to pin them open before pulling aside your ruined panties. She slides her fingers through your slick folds, causing you to gasp each time she swipes over your aching clit.

Sevika's eyes focus on your dripping cunt, humming in satisfaction as she feels your arousal coat her fingers. "My girl has such a pretty pussy, doesn't she?" she whispers, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she begins to slowly circle your clit with her fingers.

You nod dumbly, barely registering her words as you grind your clit against her hand, feeling your cunt clenching around nothing but the air. Sevika smirks, clearly enjoying the effect she has on you.

"I love your pussy, you know that, baby?" she teases, wrapping her mechanical arm around your waist to hold you still as you squirm helplessly beneath her touch. "I could play with her all night if you'd let me." You moan in response, feeling a rush of arousal surge through you at her words.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Sevika whispers in your ear, noticing the way your hips falter against her hand at the suggestion. You can't help drop your head against her shoulder, your breath coming in short gasps as she continues to rub circles on your clit.

"Yes please," you breathe out, becoming putty in her hands and willing to agree to anything she wants as long as it means she'll let you cum. Sevika chuckles softly, looking down at you on her shoulder with a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

"So cute when you like this," she murmurs before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, making you moan into her mouth as she increases the pressure on your swollen clit.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in her hair, desperately trying to hold onto her as you try to kiss her back. "P-please," you whimper against her lips, your voice breaking with need, "Please I need more."

Sevika smirks, pulling back slightly to see you. Her fingers slide lower to tease your entrance, feeling how your cunt tries to suck her in. "You want this?" she asks, slowly pushing a finger inside you, making you gasp and arch your back in response.

"Oh fuck yes," you moan, grabbing onto her wrist for support, your eyes fluttering shut as she begins to slowly pump her finger in and out of you, adding another finger as she watches you writhe against her touch.

"Eyes, baby," she reminds, slowing her fingers till they're barely moving, making you whimper in frustration before you look back at the mirror. Your reflection shows your flushed cheeks and parted lips, pretty moans slipping from them as you watch her fingers disappear inside you.

"Aren't you just so fucking cute?" Sevika groans, bringing her mechanical hand down to tease your clit, making you gasp from the unexpected cool metal against your aching clit. You cling onto her human arm, your nails digging into her arm as you feel the tension building inside your belly.

"Oh please Sevi," you beg, burying your face in her bicep, your soft moans muffled by her muscular arm.

"What is it, baby?" Sevika asks, already knowing what you want. You try to answer but all that comes out is a loud moan as she purposely curls her fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your eyes roll back. "C'mon baby, tell me."

"Wanna cum so bad," you manage to gasp out, feeling the pressure building in your core with each thrust of her fingers. Sevika's lips press against your neck, kissing and sucking gently as she quickens her pace, determined to make you come around her fingers.

""M so close," you whimper, your thighs trembling and breathing heavily as she continues to fuck you dumb, "oh fuck, 'm gonna cum," you cry into her arm.

Your whimpers turn into desperate cries as the tension in your belly reaches its peak, your body twitching in her grasp.

"I got you, baby, come for me," Sevika groans, watching you in the mirror as she helps you ride out your sweet high, her fingers never faltering against your sensitive cunt.

As you start to come down from your high, Sevika holds your trembling body close, slowly pulling out her fingers and rubbing them against your swollen clit, making you shake with gentle strokes.

"No, 'm too sensitive," you whimper, trying to push her hand away weakly. Sevika chuckles softly, kissing your neck and shoulder, "Sorry, baby." She pulls her hand away, letting you catch your breath and curl up against her chest. You lay on her chest in a peaceful silence, mindlessly playing with the buttons of her shirt.

You look up at her with a glint in your eyes that matched the one she had not long ago, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "What?" Sevika raises an eyebrow.

"Nothing," you reply, trailing your fingers along her button-up shirt, popping open one of the buttons with a mischievous smile. "I'm just so sad we aren't going to that gala tonight," you tease, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her lips.

Sevika chuckles, letting you continue to pop open the buttons on her shirt as she leans in to peck you back. You pop open the last button, revealing in the sight of her abs underneath.

"Fuck the gala," Sevika whispers, leaning in to brush her lips against yours, her hand keeping your face close to hers, “we can have our own fun right here," she adds, pecking you once more before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

[monstersflashlight]

can you do a pt 2 of the hole in the wall with a tentacle monster? i’d think i’d pass out if that was me

A/N: Hi there! First of: thank you for your compliments :) Tried to mix all these requests together because all of them had tentacles in common, don’t know if I did a good job, but I hope this satisfies y’all, it was fun to write. Enjoy!

Good monster

Tentacle-monster x fem!reader || dom/sub (femdom), overstimulation, tentacles, double penetration (in the same hole), praise kink (light)

When the tentacle monster gave you your voice back to meet the prince, you were more than happy to get out of there fast. You didn’t think twice about why he did it, or why he would look so sad when you ran away from his cave. But you did it anyway.

And regretted it.

The prince was not only awful, but life at the palace was hell. You wanted to go back as soon as you two spoke twice, but you promised you’d be there for a while, you promised you’d make it work if you got your voice back. But the tentacle monster knew better than you did, he knew so much better. So when he showed up at the castle and eradicated every single one of the stupid royals who made your life living hell, you could only be grateful.

He took you back to his cave, and you stared at him for a long while before you were able to form words. “Are you going to take my voice away?” You asked him. You would gladly give it back if it meant not going back to those awful royals.

He sighed, as if your word pained him, his tentacles moving around his body. It was mesmerizing. “No, little human, it’s all yours to enjoy. A gift if you may.” He said and urged you to leave.

You didn’t fight him, but you regretted that, too. You regretted the pain in his eyes and the way he stared at you even when you were far away. You regretted so many things about him, but when you decided to go back and talk to him, he was gone. You didn’t see him again for a loooooong time.

And time passed. And you missed him in a way that made no sense but all the sense at the same time. He was like an old wound that hurt every time the weather changed. And you didn’t know anything else about him to find him, you made peace with that.

Until you were hired for a new human-monster experiment. (And maybe you only wanted to be fucked by a bunch of monsters until you couldn’t walk straight, that sounded like a great evening in your books.)

You were supposed to be fit into a hole, your lower half exposed to the air and ready to be fucked by as many monsters as they came. But that wasn’t what happened.

You were tied to the hole and completely naked when you heard the soft rustle of tentacles against the floor, your whole body trembling in anticipation as you heard someone behind you. Tentacles were one of your biggest fantasies, images of him flashing behind your eyes, anticipation and desperation mixing inside of you. You parted your legs a bit further, trying to look as enticing as possible to the monster behind you.

But they didn’t touch you. And after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple minutes, you asked: “Is something wrong?” You looked back, trying to peek through the hole but unable to do so.

“I- I don’t… I don’t know how to do this,” he confessed in a short breath. He sounded nervous and something inside of you stirred.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, your hand already pressing the button that unlocked your restrains.

“I’ve never fucked a human,” he let out, almost embarrassed.

You struggled out of the hole and turned around, you knew it was against the rules but you didn’t care. The monster was clearly having a hard time and you weren’t heartless. But when you were finally out and turned around your heart skipped a beat and you let out a gasp.

“You!” You both said in unison, looking at each other with utter surprise. “How? What? How”

Your stupor was short lived when a mechanical voice sounded over your heads: “Experiment over, move to the individual rooms.” You followed after him, grabbing a robe that was hanging next to the door. Your brain was swimming with a thousand possibilities.

“What happens now?” You asked to the researcher waiting outside the door.

“We detected abnormalities in your compatibility results, you need to be isolated and studied together. Follow me.” They lead you through the corridors until they open a door at the end of a hallway.

Your tentacle monster enters before you. “What are we supposed to do here?” He asked the researcher once you were in a cozy room that looked like an expensive hotel more than a lab.

“You fuck. We watch. Enjoy.” And they left, leaving both of you there, staring at each other with confused expressions.

“So… Do you want to…” He started, looking at you intently.

“YES,” you answered a little too fast and a little too loudly. He looks a bit dejected by your enthusiasm, and then you remember what he said earlier, at the glory hole. “Do you want me to take charge?” You questioned, all serious.

You wanted to be the one being fucked into oblivion and used like a fleshlight, but if your tentacle monster wants to be dominated you can totally do that. There’s more than enough time in the future for you two to play in other positions. In as many positions as your human body allows, actually.

“On the bed. Now.” You walked alongside him, and once he was looking at you pleadingly, you took pity on him and straddled his waist, his tentacles curling around your legs and middle. “Do all your tentacles feel the same?” He nodded. “Words,” you asked.

“Ye- yes,” he stuttered. You were rolling your hips slowly, spreading your juices over the tentacles trapped under you

“Yes, mistress,” you told him, falling back into your dom mode. He looked at you confused. “You have to say yes, mistress,” you explained.

“Yes, mistress,” he repeated.

“Good monster.” He blushed darker as you praised him, making you giggle as you caressed his chiseled chest. “Okay, so I’m going to tell you what we are going to do: I’m going to grind against the suckers of your tentacles and you are going to stay really still until I come once. Then, if you have been good, I’ll let you fuck me. You like that?”

“Yes, mistress.”

You ground against his suckers just as he said, your pussy was already so wet it made obscene sounds against his slippery skin. But looking down at him, seeing how flushed he looked and how his eyes were rolling back into his head, you knew you weren’t the only one having fun. He was enjoying you playing with him, and the slippery texture he was oozing was making everything more intense. You could see his muscles bulging as he tried to remain as still as possible, his hands going up to grab your hips and stopping just in time, pressing them against the bed and squeezing.

You smiled down at him. “You like that, monster? You like the feel of my pussy against your tentacles?” He nodded vehemently, making you chuckle. “You are a dirty, dirty monster, aren’t you? You say you didn’t fuck a human before but here you are, acting like a slutty monster for me.” He whined. “They all think you are so powerful, but right now you don’t look like it. You look almost pathetic with your groans and whines, but, so, so pretty.” And it was true, he looked great all flushed and frustrated, the noises he was making were driving you insane.

The orgasm caught you out off guard, too focused on him to notice it sneaking up on you. You fell apart over him, your head thrown back and your back arching as you convulsed. It was a good orgasm, but your body craved more. You reached under you and grabbed one of his tentacles with enough strength to make him whine again, chuckling at him as you guided it to your dripping pussy.

“Now fuck me like you mean it,” you instructed.

He looked at you confused for a couple seconds before his hands were darting up and grabbing onto your hips. He moved your body and his tentacles around you, touching and caressing all parts of your skin possible, fucking in and out of your wet pussy. It was almost too much, he was everywhere and the suckers were latched to every sensitive part of your body. Your brain was turning fuzzy with pleasure.

This time you felt your orgasm arriving, and you had enough time to order: “Come for me. Now.” And he complied.

He fell apart under you, and you didn’t give him any peace, your own orgasm going and going over him as you rode him to oversensitivity. He was crying out your name and you were desperate for more.

You grabbed another tentacle and pressed it against your already stretched pussy. You pushed it alongside the one already in, the stretch so big you could barely keep yourself from screaming. But you made it, the second tentacle curling around the first, creating the most amazing textured dick you’ve ever fucked. You rolled your hips slowly until his second tentacle was fully inside of you, until he was a whimpery mess of oversensitivity under you.

You leaned down, your chest pressing against his as you fucked yourself on his tentacles. “Be a good monster and give me one more orgasm,” you whisper against his ear.

“I- I don’t know if I can, mistress,” he whimpered, his tentacles twitching inside of you as you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

“Now,” you ordered. And he complied like the good monster he was, screaming your name until his voice sounded rough.

At the end of the day, he gave you your voice back for the wrong reasons, but you took his away for the good ones. And this time neither of you regretted it.

[kinzhae]

"Can We Not Do This?" Pt.2

Reader gets home after a long day. unfortunately for her she has a light argument with her partner making her more frustrated and tired like she was not enough,

Part 1; Reader x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru Nanami Kento Part 2; Choso, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro

Angst(?) to comfort, Tired Reader. Fainting. arguing

Here are the rest of the characters, let me know if you guys want me to add others <33

Choso

Choso had always been protective, but today, his concern felt suffocating. As you walked into the room, he immediately asked, “Why didn’t you call? I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” you replied, exhaustion seeping into your voice.

“You didn’t think it was necessary?” he repeated, his tone sharp. “I worry about you, Y/N. Do you not care about that?”

“It’s not like that,” you tried to explain, rubbing your temples as the pounding headache you’d been ignoring all day grew worse. “I just—”

“You just what?” he pressed, his voice louder now. “You don’t care how I feel?”

His words hit a nerve, and the stress of the day finally caught up with you. “I can’t do this right now!” you shouted, but your vision blurred, and your legs gave out beneath you.

“Y/N!” Choso’s panic was immediate as he caught you before you hit the ground. His usual stoic expression crumbled as he held you close, his voice trembling. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?”

When you woke up, his hands were still cradling yours, his face inches from yours as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. I just... I was scared.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you like you might break. “You’re everything to me. Please don’t scare me like that again.”

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna had been in a foul mood all day, and you returning from a mission late only added fuel to the fire.

“You’re pathetic,” he sneered, watching as you dropped your bag by the door. “Can’t even handle a simple mission without dragging yourself home like a corpse.”

“Not everyone’s as invincible as you,” you bit back, your voice trembling with fatigue.

He smirked, leaning back. “Clearly.”

The pounding in your head made it hard to think straight, but you weren’t about to let him win. “Why do you always have to be like this? Just—”

Your words cut off as your knees buckled, and darkness overtook you.

“Tch. Idiot,” Sukuna muttered, but he moved faster than you thought possible, catching you before you hit the floor. His crimson eyes scanned your face, his usual arrogance replaced by a flicker of concern.

When you stirred, you found yourself lying on a soft surface, Sukuna sitting beside you with his arms crossed. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he said gruffly, his voice quieter than usual. “If you’re going to collapse, at least have the decency to warn me.”

You managed a weak smile, and he rolled his eyes. “Rest. I’ll deal with anyone who tries to disturb you. You’re useless like this, but you’re mine to take care of.”

Toji Fushiguro

Toji leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you with a smirk as you walked in, exhausted from your day.

“You look like hell,” he said, grabbing a beer.

“Thanks, Toji,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t get snappy with me, sweetheart,” he replied, his tone turning sharp. “I didn’t make you overwork yourself.”

“I don’t need this right now,” you snapped, rubbing your temples.

“Then don’t bring that attitude home,” he shot back, slamming his beer on the counter. “You’re acting like a brat.”

The pounding in your head became unbearable, and before you could respond, your vision blurred, and the world tilted.

“Shit!” Toji cursed, catching you before you hit the ground. His rough hands were surprisingly gentle as he eased you onto the couch. “Y/N, wake up. Damn it, don’t do this.”

When you opened your eyes, his expression was uncharacteristically soft. “You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered, brushing a hand through his hair. “Don’t push yourself so hard.”

His hand lingered on yours as he added, “Take it easy, alright? I’ll stay here until you’re back on your feet.”

[misswynters]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

featuring. caitlyn kiramman x reader

warnings: only angsty and hurt, no comfort

synopsis: In which you and cait are friends with benefits and she decides that you aren’t worth it.

requested! by @trikalovski

There you stood in a room, as the cold air of Piltover’s rooftops seemed sharper than ever. The beautiful midnight sky cloaked in thick clouds, hiding the stars. Shadows twisted between the flickering lights below, the city’s tall spires casting an oppressive atmosphere. It was a world untouched by the grime and grit of the undercity, yet somehow, you felt even filthier here, wrapped in this strange, transient arrangement with Piltover’s prodigal daughter.

A small, hidden room on the upper floors of an old building became your meeting place, a secluded space to avoid curious eyes. Caitlyn liked it for its anonymity, far from the eyes of her colleagues and, more importantly, her family. The space was sparsely furnished, with only a worn couch and dim light filtering through cracked windows. Cold and utilitarian, just like her.

Tonight, you’d waited longer than usual, feeling the tension knotting in your stomach as each second passed. This wasn’t how you’d imagined it would feel; the anticipation gnawing at you was nothing like the excitement you once felt. When Caitlyn finally arrived, you barely heard her footsteps, but you knew from her sharp, purposeful stride that she was irritated. She walked in, her coat still on, eyes shadowed with fatigue and annoyance as they landed on you.

“You’re here,” she said flatly, as if it were an inconvenience.

“Yeah,” you replied, watching her carefully, feeling a strange mix of longing and bitterness coil inside you. For a moment, silence filled the room, and you could sense the weight of her exhaustion, the frustration simmering just beneath her cool exterior. There was something about her tonight that felt colder, more detached.

As she shrugged off her coat and tossed it on the couch, you decided you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Cait… we need to talk,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound calm.

She shot you a sharp glance, clearly annoyed, already reaching for the buttons on her cuffs as if eager to skip past whatever you were going to say. “Really? You want to do this now?” she asked, a hint of exasperation in her tone. “I’ve had a long day, and I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I just… I need to know what this is to you. What I am to you,” you said, barely able to keep the vulnerability from showing.

Caitlyn’s gaze hardened, her hands pausing as she looked at you with a cool detachment that cut deeper than any words could. “What you are?” she repeated, almost mockingly. “I thought that was pretty clear from the start.”

Your heart sank as her words hit you with brutal clarity, but you forced yourself to press on. “I thought… maybe things had changed. That maybe this was something more than just… just a way to pass time.”

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, and she shook her head. “You’re delusional if you thought this was more than what it is,” she replied bluntly. “You’re a distraction, something to take my mind off everything else. That’s all.”

Her words stung, each one landing like a knife twisting in your chest. You tried to hold back the emotions that were threatening to spill over, but the pain was raw and uncontainable. “So that’s it?” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just something to keep you entertained, something to make you forget about Vi, Jinx and the damn war?”

“Yes,” she replied coldly, not a trace of remorse in her tone. “If that bothers you, you’re free to leave. No one’s forcing you to stay.” Her callousness was shocking, but you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the anger and hurt bubbling up until you couldn’t contain it any longer. “I thought you cared,” you said, hating how desperate you sounded, hating how vulnerable she’d made you feel.

Caitlyn crossed her arms, a faint sneer on her lips as she looked at you with a mixture of irritation and pity. “Feelings are a luxury I can’t afford right now,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “I have responsibilities, a city to protect. You think I have time for… romance? For whatever it is you think this was?”

The coldness in her words, the absolute dismissal of everything you’d felt for her, was more than you could bear. “Then why keep coming back to me? Why use me like this if I mean nothing to you?” you demanded, a spark of anger igniting in your chest despite the heartache.

“Because you’re convenient,” she replied bluntly, her words like a slap to the face. “Because you don’t ask questions, or at least I thought you didn’t.” She took a step closer, her gaze piercing, unapologetic. “And because if you don’t want this, there are plenty of others who would.”

The finality in her words hit you like a blow, and the anger drained away, leaving only a hollow ache in its place. She was willing to replace you with no hesitation or remorse. Just a cold, unfeeling practicality that made it clear just how little you’d ever meant to her.

“So that’s it then?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, your hands clenched at your sides to stop them from trembling. “You’d throw me away like I’m nothing?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Caitlyn replied without hesitation, her gaze steady and unforgiving. “I don’t have time for drama, for emotional attachments that complicate things. If you want more, you’re in the wrong place.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a tear slip down your cheek despite your best efforts to hold it back. “I thought… I thought maybe you felt something for me,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

She scoffed, shaking her head as if your words were an inconvenience. “Feel something? I told you from the beginning what this was. If you decided to make it something more, that’s your problem, not mine.”

You felt your heart shatter at the casual cruelty in her voice, the complete lack of empathy or care. She didn’t care about you, and she never had. You’d been nothing more than a means to an end, a distraction she could discard whenever it suited her. Taking a shaky breath, you nodded, swallowing the pain as best you could. “Fine,” you said quietly, barely able to keep the bitterness from seeping into your voice. “If that’s all I am to you… then I’ll leave.”

“Good,” she replied curtly, turning away without a second thought, as if you were already gone. “It’s for the best.”

You hesitated, feeling the sting of her words, the finality of her dismissal. She didn’t look back, didn’t offer any parting words or a hint of regret. She simply walked away, her focus already elsewhere, leaving you standing alone in the cold, empty room that had once felt like a place of refuge. As you walked out, you felt the weight of every unspoken word, every shattered hope. Caitlyn had used you, and she hadn’t cared. The realization hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you feeling hollow, betrayed, and utterly alone. And as you stepped back into the shadows, the familiar bitterness of the undercity swallowed you whole, the echoes of her callous words lingering long after you’d left her world behind.

taglist: @thesevi0lentdelights @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @ekkosh

[damiansgoodgirll]

WOOOOO THE REQUESTS ARE BACK!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this day.

SO

Would it be entirely insane of me to ask for a Damian x Fem! Reader comfort fic.

Basically

Damian gets home and finds reader has had a horrible week while he was gone and he just comes home, gives her all the love.

Kisses, cuddles, hugs…comfort food.

JUST LOADED WITH ALL THE FLUFF

What ever you want, just fluff and tlc. Maybe even comfort sex if you wanna throw smut in there cause comfort.

What ever you want. I enjoy anything you write tbh.

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ a lot of comfort and love

walking zombie

you were tired.

no, not tired - exhausted. and not only physically but mentally too.

as christmas approached, work suddenly multiplied and you found yourself from working almost 12 hours a day.

barely getting any sleep or eating unhealthy food, you got to the point where you were almost ready to explode.

you and damian barely saw each other. if you were at home, he was travelling for work and if he was at home, you were either at work or passed out in bed.

you missed him. you missed his comfort, his hugs, his sweet kisses, his smile, his hands over your body. you missed him and you felt like you’ve been neglecting him, hating yourself even more.

damian understood.

he knew how much you loved your job even if he didn’t agree on the overworking part, he still supported you and tried to help you as much as he could around the house.

you didn’t know how it happened but on friday afternoon you got to leave work earlier. a smile spreading over your face as you ran into your car and drove back home.

there was peace as damian wasn’t home yet - he’s been working almost all week and you couldn’t wait to see him. he was supposed to come back around dinner time and a sweet idea of cooking him a welcome home dinner crossed your mind but the moment you stood up and reached for the kitchen, all of your energies left your body.

you loved damian so much but you weren’t in the mood for cooking. you weren’t in the mood for making a mess in the kitchen knowing that you would have to clean up everything. you just weren’t in the mood.

instead, you opted for taking a warm shower. you needed to release some stress and a shower was all that you needed. looking for something to wear, you found a damian’s hoodie and a pair of his boxers - you loved the way his clothes smelled of him - so you opted for those.

once in the shower you felt all your muscles relax and thinking that the weekend was approaching put you in a good mood. you already imagined yourself spending all weekend in bed with damian, eating chocolate and watching romantic christmas movies - that was your meaning of paradise.

feeling a little relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and did your short skin care routine before wearing your boyfriend’s clothes and heading back to the living room.

you were so eager to see him after a week that you tried your best to stay awake and wait for him but the moment your head touched the comfort of your couch, you were far gone.

a creaky noise woke you up. coming from the front door, your eyes opened a little and saw damian’s figure standing in front of you as he was putting his suitcase on the floor.

“damian…” your tired voice made him turn to look at you.

“hey mi amor, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up” he immediately apologised when he saw your sleepy face.

you fell asleep? “what - what you mean? what time is it?”

“it’s already nine o’clock” he smiled.

“what? i’ve slept for three hours? i wanted to make dinner for you and me…i can’t believe i slept all this time” you were slightly disappointed in yourself. you wanted to wait for him. you wanted to welcome him home and yet you managed to fall asleep.

“woah, mi amor, take it easy, it’s okay, you were tired and you rested a little bit, nothing’s wrong with that…” damian slowly approached you and sat down on the couch next to you.

“i wanted to make something nice for your welcome home” you confessed making him smile even more “but i fell asleep, i’m sorry…”

“why are you apologising hermosa?” his soft voice asked.

“because i really wanted to do something for you…but i just had the worst week of my life, i really missed having you here, i even took a shower to relax myself and i still managed to mess it up…” you didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable but the week that just passed took a big toll on you and you were feeling all of the stress and anxiety left behind.

“you don’t have to do anything for me hermosa” his hand gently took your chin and made you look into his eyes “you had a rough week and you have all the right to take time for yourself…in fact, why don’t you stay here, you can rest a little more if you want, i’ll take a quick shower and then i’ll order take out for the both of us? i missed you so much this week and i wanna take care of you…”

how could you say no when he asked so politely?

“okay…” you gave up knowing that he wouldn’t take a no for an answer.

“perfect” he smiled before leaving a gentle peck on your lips “rest a little mi amor, i’ll wake you up when food comes, you look like a zombie”

you laughed a little “i feel like a zombie…”

“that’s why you gotta rest” he reminded you.

softly closing your eyes, it took you less than a minute to fall back asleep. damian was cautious and trying to make less noises possible as he moved around the house.

quickly washing himself, he changed into more comfortable clothes and ordered some food. he unpacked his suitcase and once everything was done, he sat on the couch next to you. turning the tv on, he put on something fun to watch as his mind wasn’t in the mood for some kind of weird plots.

feeling a shiver down his spine, he looked at you and saw how curled up on yourself you were. he took a fluffy blanket and gently covered your body.

hearing a knock on the door, he stood up and got the food.

“amor…” he whispered in your ear, trying to wake you up gently. leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, you felt something tickling you “wake up princesa, food is ready…”

yawning, you opened your eyes and the first thing you noticed was the blanked upon your body. before you could ask damian about it, he answered for you “you seemed cold, i wanted you to be comfortable” he said.

your heart melted. damian was so thoughtful and you knew you couldn’t live without him “thank you” you genuinely smiled.

“shall we eat? cause i’m starving” he joked making you smile.

“oh absolutely…”

“here, come here baby, i wanna feel you close” damian patted next to him as you sat back on the couch “no, not there, here” he pointed to his lap.

“how are we going to eat in that position?” you asked.

“trust me, i’ll find a way, i just wanna have you close” and so you sat on his lap.

it was a little uncomfortable for him to eat but he wouldn’t tell you. he missed you and he knew that you missed him too. from the way you were laid on his chest, your head between his shoulder and neck as you ate the hamburger he got for you, watching whatever the tv was playing.

you missed soft moments like those.

once finished damian insisted that you stayed there on the couch as he cleaned the coffee table from all those food papers.

“how are you feeling hermosa?” he asked once he sat on the couch with you in his lap again.

“better…”

“yes?” he softly asked.

“yeah, i feel like it’s you…you got me in a good mood” you snuggled your head between his shoulder and face again as you inhaled his scent.

“well, i’m glad to hear that” he smiled “you tired?”

“no, not physically at least, even if my body it’s a wreck” you joked but before you could speak, damian’s hand slipped under your shirt and began to massage and softly stroke your back.

“relax your body baby, and relax your mind…i’m here now” he whispered before his lips touched the skin of your face “relax against me” and you did as he told you.

while his hand was working magic on your back, his lips kept leaving soft kisses over your face, making you completely relaxed into your lover’s arms.

“we’re gonna stay in bed all weekend baby” he whispered making you nod your head “and i’m gonna properly take care of you, you need to relax and rest” and you honestly loved that idea.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he softly looked down at you.

“thank you, for everything…”

“don’t thank me, i love you, i love taking care of you” he smiled before gently kissing you. you missed having his lips on yours “close your eyes baby, let me take control…you’re safe”

and in fact, you knew that you were in good hands.

[giggle-guru]

Okay, so here is the audio you’ve been waiting for! I’m not entirely confident with my abilities to do Lucifer, but I gave it my best shot. I utilized one of the AI websites for my voice overlap (because I cannot make my voice go that deep or anything for the life of me, I’ve tried) so some parts are slightly glitchy but other then that it seems to have exported okay. I’d love to hear your feedback, other things you’d like to hear, etc etc! Thanks for listening :)

Background: Alastor and Lucifer joined Husk and Angel Dust in a few rounds of poker. Of course, Angel managed to coerce Lucifer into having one too many drinks, and Alastor ensures that he gets back to their room within the hotel safely. He figures this might be the best time to point out a little…quirk he’s noticed in Lucifer’s behaviour.

Script is below the cut for those interested (note I did go off of it a few times and sometimes didn’t write out effects I was planning aha):

[Sound Effect: Two sets of footsteps. One stuttering. One consistent.]

Alastor: [chuckling softly] Lucifer, my dearest... you really must be more careful with how many drinks that charming little Spider manages to convince you to indulge in. I’d hate to see you so... inebriated again. You know what happens when you’re under the influence. [He chuckles slightly.]

Lucifer: [grumbling, defensive] Relax, Bambi. I hic I am the King of Hell! I can… I can handle a few [hic] drinks…

Alastor: [mocking, with a wide grin evident in his voice] Of course, my liege! Why, how could I ever doubt the infinite prowess of the almighty Lucifer Morningstar? [chuckling] Though, if I may be so bold, your "infinite prowess" seems to have trouble walking straight at the moment.

Lucifer: [grumbling, defensive] It's... hiccup the floor. It's uneven. You should fix it.

[Sound Effect: A stumble, followed by a quick grab.]

Alastor: [amused] My, my, such treacherous flooring! Let’s not test gravity further, hmm? Hold still, my darling. Let me get the door.

[Sound Effects: A door creaks open, and the two step inside. Alastor guides Lucifer toward the bed.]

Lucifer: [grumbling, slurring slightly] Hah... you fuss over me too much. I can take care of myself, you know.

Alastor: [with a smirk in his voice] Oh, of course you can! Why, you’re practically a paragon of self-sufficiency... when you’re not half-conscious and leaning on me for support.

Lucifer: [small chuckle] You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

Alastor: [teasing, delighted] Oh, my dear Lucifer, you wound me! Enjoying this? Why, I’m simply being a concerned partner, making sure my precious King doesn’t topple over like a drunken mortal. I do think it’s time we get you out of that dashing suit and into something a bit more... comfortable, hmm? Sit.

[Sound Effects: Bed creaking. Clothes rustling.]

Lucifer: [groaning, slightly annoyed] I don’t need help with this, Bambi. I can undress myself.

Alastor: [with a teasing voice] Oh, Lucifer, darling, I’m sure you can. But let's be honest, you’ll never manage to get those buttons undone without my assistance in this state. [pauses, his voice dropping to a more affectionate tone] Once I finish changing you, my dear, why don’t we simply cuddle for a while? After all, what’s a night of indulgence without a little rest and relaxation?

Lucifer: [huffs, but there’s a soft smile in his voice, small giggle] Fine... fine. But I’m not some... helpless creature.

Alastor: [grinning] Of course not. You’re the most powerful being in Hell... when you’re sober.

[Sound Effects: Clothing changes. Bed creaking as they get under the covers.]

Alastor: [grinning] Are you comfortable, my dear?

Lucifer: [mumbling, relaxed but still with a hint of his usual pride] Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just... stop smothering me for a second, Bambi.

Alastor: [teasing] Oh, but I can’t help it, darling. You’re so much more charming when you let your guard down. [pauses, his voice softening slightly] Besides, what could be more relaxing than being pampered by your favorite radio demon?

Lucifer: [grin in his voice] Pampered, huh? More like nagged…

Alastor: [Teasing, amused] My, my... is this how you treat me, darling? After I spend all night taking care of you—guiding you to bed, making sure you’re comfortable—this attitude is the thanks I get? [Pauses, his voice lowering with a mischievous edge] I’d watch your tone, my dear.

[A soft chuckle as he moves closer.]

With how much you’ve had to drink tonight, I’m sure you’re quite sensitive… [His voice turns playful, teasing.] Don’t try to hide it, Lucifer. I know you’re feeling it now.

[Sound Effects: A light shift in the bed, followed by the faint sound of a finger trailing lightly over skin.]

Alastor: [Teasing, delighted] Hmm... What’s this? [His finger traces gently up Lucifer’s side, the movement soft but deliberate.]

Lucifer: [Chuckling softly but with a slight edge of excitement] Bambi, don’t—

Alastor: [Mockingly innocent] Don’t what, darling? [He trails a finger higher, a light tickle along Lucifer's ribs.] I’m just trying to help you relax.

Lucifer: [Trying to suppress a laugh, but fails and giggles softly] Alastor, I swear— [His tone softens as he shifts slightly under the touch.] I told you, stop that…

Alastor: [Chuckling softly, playful amusement] Oh, quit pretending you don’t enjoy this, my dear. I’ve seen the way you act—always teasing me, poking at my nerves, just to get me to... [He pauses for effect, leaning closer as his voice drops slightly.] do exactly this. [He chuckles again, a hint of mischief creeping in.]

How naïve do you think I am? [There’s a slight hum in his tone, as if savoring the thought.] Ever since that first time I tickled you into submission. [Sing-song] Admit it, darling, you’re simply begging for attention in the most roundabout way.

Lucifer: [Pausing, his voice stumbling slightly, trying to sound defensive but failing miserably] W-What? That’s—ridiculous, Bambi! I don’t— [He shifts uncomfortably, a faint blush creeping into his tone, betraying his embarrassment.] I-I don’t try to get you to do anything! You’re just... imagining things! And even if I did—which I didn’t—you wouldn’t be able to prove it... [Soft giggles, soft voice, a hint of defeat mingling with his embarrassment.] ...J-Just shut up and stop grinning like that. And stop with the light touching! [giggle]

Alastor: [Sly chuckle, his voice dripping with mock innocence and teasing delight] Oh, dear. It seems I’ve struck the nail right on the head, haven’t I? [He leans in closer, his tone dropping to a smooth, mischievous murmur.] Tell me, Lucifer... do you enjoy being tickled?

[He pauses, letting the question hang in the air, his grin practically audible in his voice.] You can’t hide it from me, darling. Not in this state.

Lucifer: [His voice falters slightly, embarrassed and defensive] I-I don't enjoy it, Al! Stop trying to twist things! [He shifts uncomfortably again, trying to hide his reaction, but failing to suppress the soft giggles that escape him.] I-I don’t need you to do... whatever this is. [He trails off, unable to fully argue, as his voice still holds light giggling]

Alastor: [Grinning widely, his voice laced with amusement and satisfaction] Oh, Lucifer... You can deny it all you like, but your body is betraying you, my dear. [He trails a finger gently across Lucifer's ribs once more, his voice laced with playful menace.] How many times have you tried to get me to do this? Teasing, poking, all those little comments, your lack of the ability to speak the word tickle just now... I’m not blind, darling. I see right through you.

[He pauses, lowering his voice as he leans in closer, enjoying the subtle shift in Lucifer’s reactions.]

Alastor: [Softly, almost a whisper] So are you going to admit it? Or do I need to tickle it out of you?

Lucifer: [His voice cracks slightly as he tries to maintain his composure, a mixture of indignation and poorly masked laughter] A-Admit what? There’s nothing to admit! You’re just being your annoying ass self—and making things up! [He squirms slightly, his voice trailing into a nervous chuckle.]

Alastor: [Delighted, with a smooth, teasing edge] Oh, darling, denial suits you so poorly. [He lets his fingers glide teasingly down Lucifer’s sides, savoring every little twitch and suppressed giggle.] But don’t worry—I have all night to help you... [His grin audible as his tone becomes lower and conspiratorial] come to terms with the truth. [Alastor begins to ruthlessly tickle him.]

[Sound Effect: Bed sheets rustling.]

Lucifer: [Bursting into a fit of laughter, his attempts to hold it back completely failing as his voice becomes higher-pitched with each giggle] N-Nononono, Al—st-st-stop it! [His body twists and jerks, trying to escape the relentless tickling, but he can’t stop laughing.] Th-this isn’t funny, you—hic—you’re not going to—[He lets out another startled laugh, voice cracking as he squirms helplessly.]

Alastor: [Mockingly gasping, his voice playful and light] Oh, how terrifying! The mighty Lucifer, undone by a bit of... [He pauses, drawing out the word with a chuckle] tickling. [He leans in, his voice dropping to a sly whisper as his hands continue their assault.] Admit it, darling. You love this. You’ve been begging for it without even realizing it.

Lucifer: [giggling] No- I haven’t! I don’t enjoy this! You’re just being an ass!

Alastor: [Amused, continuing his tickling] Oh, my dear Lucifer, you're absolutely adorable when you're like this. [His voice lightens, teasing with a hint of mock sympathy] What was it you said about not liking it, hmm? Sounds to me like you're thoroughly enjoying yourself—don't worry, I won’t tell anyone. [He chuckles darkly, the sound of his fingers dancing over Lucifer’s stomach now, filled with a teasing melody.]

Lucifer: [giggling] No! Nonono [squeak] not there!

Alastor: Oh, not there you say? I see, this little spot on your tummy seems particularly effective. Let’s explore that a little more, shall we? Tickle tickle tickle!

Lucifer: [giggling] S-shut up!

Alastor: What’s wrong? Do you not like that word? How unfortunate, I happen to love it! Tickle tickle tickle! Oh, you have the sweetest little giggles, don’t you Luci?

Lucifer: [giggling] I can’t! I can’t!”

Alastor: "My, my, you’re squirming so much! Are you trying to get away, or are you trying to stay close? Something tells me it’s the second option!”

Lucifer: [giggling] You’re so mean!

Alastor: [In a low, teasing voice] Mean? Why, how rude. I’m just giving you what your heart desires! You can’t deny it forever, darling. Every laugh, every squirm... it tells me everything. [He wiggles his fingers around Lucifer’s stomach, delighting in the way he reacts]

Lucifer: [giggling] [trying to push Alastor’s hands away] You— [laughing] You’re impossible! Stop it already!

Alastor: I’m yet to hear an admission from you. Alas, desperate times do call for desperate measures!

Lucifer: [squealing] Ah! Not my wings, not my wing!

Alastor: "It’s almost like I’m discovering new things about you every moment, Lucifer. Who knew you’d be so sensitive here? Tickle Tickle! Just admit that you enjoy it and I’ll cease my attack on your sensitive little spots! Or would you want me to continue, hmm? Do you want me to keep going for the rest of eternity?

Lucifer! Okay! Okay! Okay, I like it! I like it, please stop! It’s too much!

Alastor: [grinning in his voice, pulling back slightly] But darling, you’re far too cute when you’re a little... flustered. [pauses, his voice softening slightly] Though, I suppose if it’s really too much, I’ll stop. For now.

[Sound Effect: Fixing blankets]

Lucifer: [sighs deeply, but with a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying the attention despite his protest] Thank you. You were getting close to a limit, Bambi.

Alastor: [teasing tone] Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior... for now. [humming lightly as he settles in beside Lucifer, his voice warm and affectionate] Wouldn’t want to push my luck too much. I’m glad you enjoyed it.

Lucifer: [muttering with a slight chuckle, eyes still closed] I’m going to get you back for this, you know.

Alastor: [laughs lightly, still teasing] Oh, I’m sure you will, my dear. But for now, I think it’s time you let go and just... relax. [pauses with a softer tone] No more teasing, promise. Come, let me cuddle you to sleep.

Lucifer: [relaxing again, a quiet smile in his voice] Fine. [yawn] You’re lucky I love you.

Alastor: [smiling warmly] You aren’t wrong, my dear. I’m beyond lucky.

[supernovafics]

completed series masterlist

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 6k words

warnings:  explicit language, established relationship, lots and lots of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, smut (18+), unprotected piv sex

summary: you and steve get to spend the weekend together 

author's note: this takes place about six ish months from the epilogue of this series. you don’t really need to have read everything to read this, just know that actor!steve and reader are dating and have been for the past six months, and reader works in film (production/behind the scenes stuff)🫡🫡🫡 this whole thing turned out to be so much longer than i expected omg but i was really missing actor!steve and star of the show so yeah this happened! enjoy<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

BONUS | ❝𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒅❞

You were practically jumping into Steve’s arms when he exited the car, not even giving him a chance to grab his bag from the trunk before you were hugging him tightly. 

The soft and happy laugh he emitted in response to your antics made you smile into his neck.   

“God, I’ve missed you.”

His arms tightened around you. “I’ve missed you too.” 

You two stayed just like that for a bit, simply savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms after two and a half months of not having that. Until the cold was hitting you and the red knit sweater you were wearing and Steve’s arms wrapped around you were sadly not enough to keep you warm. 

Reluctantly, you pulled out of the embrace and looked up at him. “Okay, it’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside.”

Steve nodded as he went to grab his bag from the trunk of his Uber; a small suitcase that made sense for this weekend trip to the small town that was an hour away from where the documentary you’d been working on as a producer for the last few months was filming in upstate New York. 

“Does the inside actually match the pictures on the website?” Steve asked as his free hand found yours and the two of you walked up the small path that led to the house you rented for the weekend. 

“Surprisingly yes,” You answered, about to open the front door, but then you remembered something that had somehow slipped your mind in the last few minutes; which actually made sense because being with Steve always managed to do that to you. You stopped walking before you pushed open the door and looked up at him. “Oh, okay, so I kinda fucked up.”  

He gave you a confused look. “What happened?”

“It was really cold in the house when I first got here a couple hours ago, so I turned on the heat,” You started and Steve nodded along to your words. “But, it’s broken or something because when I tried to turn it down, it didn’t work and it won’t turn off, so it’s… pretty warm inside.” 

“Oh, okay, that’s fine,” He said with a quick shrug, completely underestimating just how bad it was because you were downplaying the entire situation. “I thought you were gonna say you flooded the place or something.”

You finally pushed open the front door and let Steve walk in first, taking note of his reaction as he was hit with the heat and immediately went to pull his jacket off. 

He raised an eyebrow at you. “‘Pretty warm’?” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” You said as you pushed the sleeves of your sweater up to your elbows. “I called the lady that owns the place and she said that she can send her brother over tomorrow to fix it.”

Aside from the heat, the place was nice. You gave him a quick tour of the small space; well, only the parts that mattered— the living room that didn’t have a TV but you already had your laptop set up on the coffee table, the kitchen that was actually the perfect size for the meal that you two would be cooking later, the backyard patio that had a fire pit that you quickly told Steve would be perfect for making smores. 

And then there was your bedroom on the second floor. It wasn’t until you were closed behind the door of the room that Steve finally kissed you, spinning you around as you were pointing at the door that led to the bathroom and slotting his lips against yours. 

You knew why he had waited, and why you had put it off too— that first kiss after being apart for so long was never just a kiss; it always quickly led to more and you both hated having to interrupt it. 

You yelped in surprise before instinctively melting into your boyfriend’s touch. His hands were cupping your face so tenderly that it didn’t even bother you how cold they were; in fact, you found it as a nice contrast from the heat that took over the entire house.  

Steve guided you back toward the nicely made bed and then softly pushed you down so that you were lying on it, breaking the kiss. You wasted no time in pulling your sweater up and over your head and tossing it somewhere in the room, leaving you in your black bra. You felt near desperate to get Steve out of the long sleeve he was wearing too, but before you could make any move to do so he was leaning over you and kissing you again. 

Your fingers slipped into the belt loops of the dark jeans he was wearing and pulled him firmly against you. Feeling his hardness pressed against your thigh made you softly whine into the kiss and the quiet groan Steve let out in response sounded like music to your ears. 

He grinded against you roughly and your hips bucked upward at every one of his movements, trying to feel anything through your jeans. You suddenly wished that you had opted for wearing the skirt that you had ultimately decided to save for later. 

With a particularly rough stir of his hips, you moaned into his mouth and your hands shot up to find their home in his hair.  

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled against your lips. 

You hummed in confusion. “For what?”

His mouth found your neck, nipping harshly at your collarbone and making you mewl. “I really don’t wanna take my time with you right now.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Good, because I don’t want you to either.”

Clothes were shed and littered on the floor in a matter of what felt like seconds. Your head fell back against one of the pillows and Steve settled comfortably on top of you and between your spread legs, his body enveloping yours completely. You two didn’t even bother getting under the blanket; it was too hot to do so anyway.  

The feeling of his cock pressed against your inner thigh, so close yet so far from where you needed it to be, made you moan and you could feel yourself dripping at the thought of what was to come. You needed him badly and right now. 

As if reading your mind, Steve positioned himself at your entrance and pushed inside of you; your wetness making it easy for him to fill you up completely in one swift movement that made you both gasp. 

Your mind effectively became a pile of mush, but you still were coherent enough to reach up and give his hair the soft tugs that you knew he loved. It made him groan and his thrusts started to pick up speed, not taking things slow just like he said. 

It was the pent up frustration and build up from not having been with each other in person that made you both practically feral for each other. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you so much. Your pussy always feels so good. Takes me so fucking well. Shit, fuck. I love you. I love you so, so much.” Steve’s rambling was a given in moments like these. 

It was always this “hello” sex or subsequent “goodbye” sex where he would ramble on and on about how much he loved you and how perfect you were. His words came out quick and rushed as if they’d been living inside of him for so long and they were finally able to burst out. 

You became pretty much the opposite in these moments, mind running on autopilot as you took everything he was giving you. It was always so hard to form coherent sentences when all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you. 

“Shit, I’m not gonna last long, honey,” Steve said. His hand had a near-bruising grip on your hip as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper inside of you with every thrust. 

“I don’t care,” You told him, finding your voice. “I need you to cum inside me, Steve. Please.”

His hand moved from your hip and snaked between your bodies to find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the sensitive nub to bring you there with him. You let out the loudest moan and clenched around his cock in response and it abruptly sent him over the edge. He came inside you with a groan and a surprised “fuck,” hand finding and squeezing your hip once again. The feeling of his cum painting your walls nearly made you burst with him. 

He buried his face in your neck and you could feel his racing heart against your chest and it made you smile, it also made you want to kiss him. You turned your head a little, pressing a kiss into his hair, but it wasn’t enough for you. 

You gave Steve a little nudge and he lifted his head, looking at you curiously. 

“Let me kiss you,” You told him and he smiled as he leaned in and you closed the rest of the small bit of distance between you two. It was slow and languid, a surprisingly nice contrast from how rushed and intense everything had been a few minutes ago. 

When you felt sated, you pulled back. “Okay, let’s go shower.”

“No, no, wait,” Steve said, lifting off of you a bit. You should’ve known what was coming; Steve hated finishing before you— although, you didn’t really care that much because it never happened that often anyway, and honestly when it did happen you found it quite endearing. But, there was no way that he’d let you get up in this moment without making you come. 

His middle finger found your clit again and you couldn’t help but let out the softest whine and clench around his cock that was still inside you as he started slowly circling the bundle of nerves. “Need you to come for me, baby, okay?”

Your eyes fell shut and you were nodding immediately. “Mm, okay.”

You felt him kiss your cheek and then his mouth was right at your ear as his finger started moving faster and you were bucking your hips upward to feel more. “God, you look so perfect spread out for me like this. Be a good girl and come for me.”

You’d already been close so it didn’t take long for you to come around his softening cock, especially with the soft praises he was giving you. 

“Fuck, fuck, Steve.” He continued stroking your clit through your orgasm, not pulling away until he could tell that you were becoming too overstimulated. 

“Okay,” He said, lips pressing against yours in the softest kiss. “Now we can shower.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You and Steve were really good at long distance— texts and calls and FaceTimes were always frequent and you never went a day without talking to each other, even if it was just a quick conversation— but nothing would ever beat seeing each other in person. The last time was a couple of months ago when you had a few days free and you went back to Los Angeles to see him. It was great, but felt so short, and it already slightly saddened you that this weekend would be the same thing. 

Steve was making grabby hands at you the second you two stepped into the cool shower. 

“Hey, hey, no funny business right now,” You said, playfully swatting his hands away as you pulled the curtain closed. “We need to make this shower quick because there’s this outdoor Fall market thing I want us to go to. It’s like a five-minute walk from here.” 

He pressed a soft kiss against your neck and then gave you a curious look. “Is that a good idea?”

You two were still navigating how to be in public with one another and how to make it work; and if it would even be possible to make it work in the way you wanted it to. You really didn’t want to get pulled into the spotlight and Steve was completely understanding of that, so staying in when you two were together wasn’t uncommon to either of you. And it had yet to feel like a huge deal because when you two only had a few days to spend with each other at a time, going out wasn’t on either of your minds. However, these current circumstances felt pretty different because of where you two were.

You pulled back a little and let your arms come up to circle his neck, your hands finding home in the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, we don’t have to worry here, this is such a small town and a paparazzi-free zone. I promise.”

“Okay,” He nodded, and then his eyes fell shut as you softly started stroking his hair. “So, what do they have at this Fall market thing?”

“I only quickly drove past it so I don’t really know,” You told him. “But, I did see a hot chocolate stand and we have to get that.” 

“Mm, that sounds good.”

“Oh, oh, oh, that reminds me, did you bring me chocolate from San Francisco?” You asked, smiling up at him. 

His eyes opened then and he smiled back at you. “Of course, it’s in my suitcase.”

“God, I love you,” You tilted your head upward to give his lips a quick peck. “We should probably take it out soon and put it in the fridge because of how hot it is.”

 “I’ll grab it after this,” Steve said and you nodded. 

You were the one to pull out of his arms and force you two to do what you were supposed to be doing in a shower, and five minutes later, you both were clean but neither of you made any move to turn off the water. Instead, Steve was turned away from you and you were softly running your finger across his back, doing a sort of connect the dots with the few freckles and moles that were littered across his skin. It would be pretty safe to say that you two were using the shower as a way to cool down from the heat that was taking over the entire house. And although you had proclaimed that this needed to be a quick shower, you didn’t mind wasting a few more minutes in it with Steve. 

“Hey,” He said softly and you hummed in response to let him know that you were listening. “I think that I’m gonna turn down the role for the movie that’s filming in Toronto in January.” 

You abruptly stopped tracing random patterns on his back. “What? Really?”

At first, he simply nodded in answer, and then you poked him a couple times so that he would turn and face you. 

“Yeah, I’m not really into the script or the role that much. And it also would overlap for two weeks with the next thing I’m gonna do in Europe. Those producers said that they can make this overlap work, but I don’t know, I just don’t really want to do the one in Toronto, anyway,” He told you, and then his hands settled on your bare waist. “Plus, if I don’t do it, then that means we’ll get three uninterrupted months together in LA instead of just having December.” 

You tried not to let yourself get too excited at the idea of things working out like that. Once the documentary finished, you wouldn’t have anything big planned until you worked as the Assistant Director on Jessie’s, your good friend’s, next film that was starting in three months. Your plan in the meantime was to go home to Los Angeles and just take a break until then; maybe help out on some local projects here and there because it was hard to completely push your mind away from working. Now knowing that Steve would also be home the entire time made the thought of actually taking a break sound nice.

You gave him a look in this moment, though, because it was impossible for you to not think logically about this too. “You’re not really doing this just for that last reason, right?”

If his answer was yes, you were ready to launch into an explanation about how he didn’t need to do that just so you two could spend more time together. Your schedules had already aligned perfectly and you two would get to spend the holidays together— and that felt lucky and great in itself— so he didn’t need to turn down roles he wanted just so you two could have more moments like this one. You’d been making it work these last six months and you knew that you’d continue to make this relationship work without either of you having to make any crazy sacrifices just yet. 

“No, I meant all of that other stuff,” Steve told you, wrapping his arms around you completely and pulling you closer. “Things were entirely different before you and before us. I used to like taking every role that I was offered because I wanted to stay busy and because I hated taking breaks between projects. But now I don’t wanna work all the time and take roles that aren’t that interesting just to stay busy. Especially not when not doing the movie or whatever else means I get to spend that time with you instead.”

It was honestly really endearing seeing how things were shifting for him because of you and your relationship; it was also a little scary. 

“And you’re completely sure about this?”

Steve didn’t hesitate to nod. “A thousand percent.”

You let yourself accept his words then, knowing that he was telling you the truth.

“Y’know, this means that we’ll finally get a chance to get sick of each other instead of constantly missing each other,” You said, playfully poking his side.

Steve laughed a little. “That’ll be a nice change.”

It was a possibility, but neither of you could actually see that happening, you couldn’t imagine growing sick of him. 

You had wanted to keep things fairly PG, but it was too hard not to kiss him in this moment; threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him close to you, chest to chest and hands grabbing at your hips. He guided you back to the wall of the shower and softly pressed you against the white tile. You could feel his half-hard cock twitch against where it was pressed to your lower stomach and you suddenly felt so close to telling him to fuck you against the wall. 

Before you could beg or even simply ask for that, Steve was pulling away from your mouth and pressing his forehead against yours with a soft breath. “Remember when this was supposed to be a quick shower?”

He was being the logical one in this moment and you were simultaneously happy and annoyed about it. 

You nodded. “Sadly yes.”

Steve moved away from you completely, finally turning off the water and pushing the curtain to the side to grab the towels that you two had hanging up. He wrapped one around your shoulders and then grabbed the other one for himself and wrapped it around his waist. 

You readjusted your towel and before he stepped out of the shower you grabbed his attention with a soft, “Hey.”

You held up your pinky and then continued. “I know you said that you didn’t even want to take this role anyway, but promise me that if there is something that you do really like and wanna do or even like a little or whatever, you won’t turn it down for me and because of us, okay?” 

You weren’t entirely sure why you felt the need to say that in this moment, to remind him that you two would always figure out how to make things work despite all of your guys’ work stuff, but it felt important to. 

He nodded as he lifted his hand and linked his pinky with yours. “I promise.”

“Remember, I take these very seriously, Steven,” You said, smiling up at him. 

“I know,” He said, a small smile on his face, and he was the one to kiss you that time around.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The hot chocolate was warm in your hands and it felt so nice that it made you not want to drink anymore of it yet; it was still a bit too hot anyway. 

You and Steve were settled on a random bench in the park where the market was happening. After an hour of walking around and buying a few things, you two were away from the busyness of the little shops and stands that took over the park and the hordes of people; it had ended up being more crowded than you had expected it to be.

You looked up at Steve and his beanie-covered head. “You do like the candle, right?”

“Yes, I do,” He answered. “It smells really nice. And you made a very compelling case about smelling it in my place when we’re together and doing fun holiday stuff in December so that really sold it for me.”

You could imagine that probably too easily, and that was exactly what you had told Steve. The cinnamon and vanilla scent perfectly defined Fall and Winter in your eyes and it was nice to think about the cozy smell taking over his apartment in LA as you two spent the holidays together for the first time; watching Christmas movies and baking cookies because why not? The thought of doing that, and especially doing it with Steve, warmed your heart. You hadn’t done anything like that in what felt like forever. Instead, you had always figured out a way to busy yourself with work during that time, knowing that you’d just feel lonely otherwise. Now things were very different.

“I can’t wait for that,” You told Steve softly.

He switched his hot chocolate to one hand so that he could wrap an arm around you. “Me too.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then your cold nose and then your lips. Before either of you could make the kiss deeper than the chaste peck that it was, your phone started ringing in the pocket of your coat. 

Reluctantly, you pulled back from Steve and fished your phone out of your pocket. When you saw Jackson’s contact name on your screen, you were quickly both annoyed and worried. He was the director of the documentary and technically your boss, but the entire small crew felt more like family at this point, so that made you feel more inclined to answer the call. 

You sighed, looking away from your phone still ringing, and up at Steve. “I told him that I wouldn’t be available this weekend and he said he’d only call if it was something really important so…”

“It’s okay. Take it,” Steve told you and you gave him a small smile before swiping to answer the call and standing up from the bench. 

For the next ten minutes, Steve watched you on the phone a few feet away, pacing back and forth as you talked because it was too hard for you to be still when you were on a call, especially an abrupt work one. He found you so goddamn adorable; the furrow of your eyebrows and how you’d chew on your lip or become fixated on something as you talked and listened. In this moment, it was the hot chocolate in your hand.  

He loved how serious you got about work, it reminded him of himself in a lot of ways, and he also loved that he got to see both sides of you. The side that happily became consumed by work, and the not-so-serious side where you and he would talk about anything and everything that didn’t involve work. He vividly remembered one night in his bed when you went on the longest tangent about early 2000s music. It was so random and a little weird, but it only made him fall deeper and harder for you. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked you once you were sitting back next to him on the bench and your phone was pocketed away in your jacket again. 

“Yeah, now it’s fine, thank god. Jackson was freaking out because one of the parents wanted to pull her kid out of the entire thing, which would fuck up pretty much everything we’ve been doing for the past few months because she’s one of the main kids that we’ve been following at this performing arts school. According to Jackson, I’m the best at talking to the parents so he put me on a call with the mom, and I managed to convince her to be back on board with everything— I reminded her about how much exposure the documentary is gonna give the school, and in turn her daughter, and she was really happy about that. Apparently, she was getting annoyed that the cameras haven’t been “following them enough” lately, which I think actually has been true, but it’s only because one of the other girls is having more interesting stuff happening right now or something. I don’t really know. But, I told her that that camera time doesn’t really matter because everyone’s gonna get the same amount of screen time in the final cut; which might actually be kind of a lie, I don’t know…” You trailed off with a sigh when you realized how long you’d been talking. “Sorry, now I’m just rambling about nonsense.”

Steve shook his head, smiling at you. “No, I think it’s cute when you ramble about work.”

You two were on the same page about that; there was something about hearing his work stories that had yet to get old to you too. Whether it be about random castmate drama or filming delays, or even stuff outside of filming— like interviews that actually ended up being fun, or ones that had one too many awkward questions— you loved hearing about it all, and Steve was a really great storyteller. 

“If I ever mention wanting to work on something that will involve kids and their parents again, please remind me of this annoying moment,” You said and Steve nodded amusingly at your request. “Oh, and I stress-drank my entire hot chocolate during that phone call, which sucks because I wanted to savor it.” 

“Let’s get you another one and then head back to our sauna for the rest of the night.” 

You laughed at his joke and then nodded. “Solid idea, Harrington.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was barely nine o’clock when you and Steve fell asleep. You two had cooked a quick meal in the kitchen when you made it back from the park and then promptly ended up in bed, watching a movie with your laptop opened up next to you two because the living room couch wasn’t as comfortable as you thought it would be. 

You two were not even halfway through the movie— some random rom-com that was the first thing you saw when you went to Netflix— when you fell asleep. It was early, but it made sense; Steve had had a long flight from where he had just finished filming in San Francisco and you hadn’t been getting more than five hours of sleep lately because of work.

You honestly didn’t expect to wake up until late in the morning, after you successfully caught up on all the sleep you’d been missing lately with Steve right next to you; you’d come to have the best sleep ever when he was with you. So, when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, it was because you didn’t feel him next to you. Despite how hot it was in the house, you remembered his arms had been wrapped around you when you fell asleep.

You sleepily opened your eyes and noticed Steve standing in front of his opened suitcase in the corner of the room with his phone pressed to his ear. He was shirtless and had one hand slipped in the pocket of the basketball shorts he was wearing. You were pretty much dressed the same, only in a tank top and a pair of small pajama shorts because it was pretty impossible to wear anything else in the warm house. 

“We’ll figure it out…” Steve said and then you heard him sigh. “She’s sleeping now, so I’ll tell her when she wakes up… Yeah, uh-huh, okay. Bye.”

The call ended and you saw him slip his phone into the pocket of his shorts and then he sighed again, it was a longer and more annoyed-sounding one that time. 

“Tell me what?” You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed, the sheet covering your body slipped down as you moved, but you didn’t mind. 

Steve turned to you and gave you a smile that even in the darkness that took over the bedroom you could see didn’t reach his eyes. You turned on the small lamp that sat on the nightstand next to you to bring some light to the room. 

“Okay, don’t be mad…” He pulled out his phone again as he walked over to sit back next to you on the bed and then handed over his phone. 

The first thing you saw was the headline— Steve Harrington Spotted with Mystery Girl in New York. You scrolled down and there were a series of pictures of you and him at the park; laughing, smiling, smelling a candle at the candle stand, and your hot chocolates in hand moments after you’d gotten them. It felt weird seeing yourself like that; invasive. It was exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

The remaining bit of tiredness you felt was quickly wiped away and you shook your head. “Oh, oh, fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“That’s not true,” You heard Steve say as you still looked at his phone. 

“Yes, I definitely am. I should’ve known this would happen. Why did I think that just because this is a small town, you’d be able to be normal for a couple days?” Now that you were saying it out loud you knew just how stupid that assumption had been, and you were actually surprised that you hadn’t realized that sooner, or that Steve hadn’t called you out on it. “Was that Tom on the phone?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“First, he was pissed that he had to find out this way; it was very ‘blindsiding,’ and as my publicist, he should’ve known this huge thing. But, he’s glad that it’s at least you because he likes you,” Steve said and you nodded along to his words. “Second, he wants to know what we want to do about it because there are a bunch of other articles coming out calling you my girlfriend and trying to figure out who you are, and also calling Tom and asking for comments and confirmations and all of that stuff.”

The wheels in your brain were already turning, trying to figure out what to do now that the initial shock had worn off. Your eyes were still solely focused on Steve’s phone because maybe the answer would hit you if you kept staring at the picture of him smiling at you as you took what had been the first sip of your hot chocolate. 

Steve kept going when you were quiet for too long. “Tom said that the pictures aren’t too ‘romantic-looking,’ so he can put denials out if we want.”

You still couldn’t figure out what to say. Your mind was moving a million miles a second but not one coherent thought or solution or anything was forming. 

Steve spoke again after a few moments. “I’m really sorry about all of this.” 

That made you finally look at him; he was leaning back against the headboard and pushing a hand through his hair. “What? Why are you sorry?”

“Because I know this is the opposite of what you wanted to happen.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but it’s not your fault,” You told him, placing his phone down on the bed and scooching closer to him. “At all.”

You didn’t want to get pulled into the spotlight, but it was pretty much inevitable, you were finally realizing now. Being with Steve meant that. There was really no way around it, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized that it was kind of surprising that this actually hadn’t happened sooner.

“Whatever you want to do about this, we can do it,” Steve told you, pulling you out of your thoughts with a reassuring hand squeeze. “I’m used to the bullshit pap stuff and articles talking about me, but you’re not, so we could deny this and forget it happened.”

Maybe he was right and you two could forget about it for now, but something like this was bound to happen again. Steve was only becoming a bigger actor— which made sense because he was insanely good, and you loved telling him that and watching him turn a little red and playfully roll his eyes at you whenever you did.

It meant that more eyes would be on him, so what were the options? Lie and hide your relationship forever? Never go out in public with him again? 

That sounded a thousand times worse than what this article and whatever the other ones were already saying about you and him. 

“I don’t think we should deny it,” You told Steve as you moved even closer to him and settled in his lap, knees on either side of him. “This was bound to happen sooner or later, right? So, maybe it’s okay that it happened now.” 

His warm hands found your hips immediately, slipping in the space where your tank top had ridden up and touching your bare skin. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” You nodded and a part of you wanted to simply leave it at that, but then you continued. “We could deny this and forget about it, but something like this is just gonna happen again.” A playful smile tugged at your lips. “Also, it would probably get really annoying keeping us a secret because I don’t know if you know this, but I love you and I’m planning to be with you for a really, really, really long time.” 

Steve matched your smile. “I do know that, but I also really love hearing it.” 

Your hands came up then, settling on his bare shoulders and then moving to the hair at the nape of his neck. You leaned in, brushing your nose against his and his head tilted upward, closing the final bit of distance between you two. 

The kiss was soft and teasing. Steve’s arms circled around you completely and he pulled you impossibly close to him. You let out a soft sound into his mouth at the feel of your chest brushing against his, the only thing that separated you two was the thin black fabric of your shirt.  

He thumbed at the strap of the tank top for a quick second before slipping it off your shoulder, mouth and tongue still solely focused on you as he did so. 

You finally found it in you to pull away after a moment and you met Steve’s eyes and the small pout quickly taking over his features. “Shouldn’t you be texting Tom?”

He shrugged as if that was the absolute last thing on his mind at this moment; you were pretty certain that you knew what the first thing was. “I’ll do it in the morning.”

You decided against questioning and teasing him further and instead whispered a soft, “Okay,” before leaning in to slot your lips against his once again. 

It didn’t matter that the text hadn’t been sent yet, and it also wouldn’t really matter if it wasn’t sent tomorrow or the day after that. Because it wouldn’t really change anything aside from the obvious; and you were making a mental note to make sure that all of your social media accounts were set to private before you started getting bombarded with the inevitable.

At the end of the day, Steve was yours and you were his, you both were so sure and certain of that fact, and that’s all that mattered right then. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know your thoughts<333

(there's a part of me that really really wants to write holiday stuff with these two and i'm gonna think about that for the rest of the night 🫶���)

[blackenedsnow]

hi! i love your writing :)

i head canon that shadow volunteers for mental health organizations where they help people because he’s been there himself and wants to help people.

can you do a platonic shadow x reader one shot on that? reader is an extremely mentally ill person that shadow finds at the place he volunteers?

a quiet kind of hope

WARNING: Themes of severe depression, intrusive thoughts, implied self-isolation.

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & Reader

NOTE: Hi!! Oh my gosh, thank you for this sweet request. Shadow volunteering for mental health organizations is such a perfect headcanon—I love the idea of him channeling his past struggles into helping others. Thank you for trusting me with something so tender. Please take care of yourself. Sending love your way <333

SUMMARY: At a community mental health center where Shadow volunteers, he finds himself drawn to you—a quiet, lost soul in need of someone who understands.

The fluorescent lights of the community center hummed faintly above as you sat tucked into a corner, knees drawn to your chest. People came and went, their footsteps echoing against the scuffed linoleum floor, but no one seemed to notice you—or if they did, they didn’t stop.

You weren’t sure why you’d come here. Maybe it was the promise of a warm drink, or the idea that someone might listen without judgment. Maybe it was just somewhere to go when the walls of your apartment felt too heavy to bear.

Shadow walked past with his usual quiet purpose. He didn’t hover or pry, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He was there enough to seem imposing, yet somehow still approachable—his crimson eyes catching the light like embers as he glanced around the room.

It wasn’t until his third lap near your corner that he finally paused.

“You’re not here for the coffee,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

Startled, you looked up at him. Shadow didn’t sit; he crouched down instead, resting one arm on his knee to meet you at eye level.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

You shook your head. Words felt too heavy to form.

Shadow tilted his head, studying you. There was no pity in his gaze—only patience. He knew better than to push for answers you weren’t ready to give.

“I’m Shadow,” he said after a moment. “I volunteer here. If you need anything—or if you just want to sit quietly—that’s fine.”

His presence was steady, like an anchor. You nodded hesitantly, unsure if he would leave or stay. To your surprise, he moved to sit on the floor nearby, keeping enough distance to give you space but staying close enough to show he wasn’t going anywhere.

For a long while, neither of you spoke.

It became a pattern over the next few weeks. Shadow never forced you to talk, never asked for more than you were willing to share. Sometimes, you’d sit in silence while he worked on paperwork or handed out supplies to other visitors. Other times, he’d offer simple observations—a comment about the weather, or a quiet remark about how the coffee was even worse than usual today.

He made it easy to exist without expectations.

One day, when the room was emptier than usual, you finally found the courage to speak.

“Why do you do this?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Shadow glanced up from his clipboard. For a moment, he looked almost surprised.

“I’ve been where you are,” he said simply. “I know what it’s like to feel… stuck. Like there’s no way out. I had help when I needed it. This is my way of paying it forward.”

His honesty was disarming. You stared at your hands, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It doesn’t feel like it’ll get better,” you admitted.

“It doesn’t, at first,” Shadow said. “But it can. Slowly. The first step is the hardest—you took it when you walked in here.”

His words settled over you like a blanket—not an instant cure, but a quiet reassurance. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

Over time, your conversations grew longer. Shadow never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with, but he listened intently to everything you said. He remembered the little details—your favorite tea, the book you were slowly working through, the things that scared you most on bad days.

In his own way, he showed you that it was okay to take up space in the world.

You didn’t realize how much you’d come to rely on his presence until one evening, when the community center was unusually quiet. You’d been lost in thought, staring at the fading light outside, when Shadow appeared beside you with two steaming cups of tea.

“For you,” he said, setting one down carefully.

You blinked up at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Shadow’s expression softened, just enough for you to notice.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “You’re doing the hard part. I’m just here to remind you that you’re not alone.”

But one day…

The space you usually occupied in the corner of the center was empty.

Shadow’s sharp gaze swept across the room again, as if expecting you to appear any moment, but the hours ticked by, and the door remained closed.

It wasn’t unusual for people to miss a day here or there—life had a way of pulling people in unpredictable directions—but this wasn’t like you. You came to the center every time it was open, like clockwork, even on the days when you barely said a word.

Shadow couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling settling in his chest.

“You looking for someone?” one of the other volunteers asked as she packed up for the night.

Shadow nodded, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Yes. A regular.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Maybe they just needed a break. Sometimes it’s overwhelming for folks.”

“Maybe,” Shadow replied, but the doubt in his voice was evident.

He stayed a little longer than usual, tidying up stray cups and chairs as an excuse to linger. When it became clear you weren’t coming, he left, stepping out into the cold night air.

The thought of you walking home alone—head down, shoulders hunched—stuck in his mind.

The next day, you still didn’t show.

Shadow’s unease grew, twisting into something sharper. He tried to focus on his tasks, but his mind kept circling back to the hollow ache in his chest. He hated how familiar it felt.

When the center closed that evening, he made a decision. He wasn’t the type to sit around waiting for answers.

He remembered fragments of things you’d shared in passing—your neighborhood, the street you lived on. Shadow wasn’t one to pry, but he had a way of listening closely, piecing together the little details others might miss.

The streets were quiet as he walked, the night heavy with the kind of stillness that pressed against his ears. He found your building easily enough: a squat, aging structure with peeling paint and a flickering light by the entrance.

He climbed the stairs quickly, his footsteps echoing faintly.

When Shadow knocked, there was no answer.

He tried again, harder this time. “It’s me,” he called. “Shadow.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, faintly, he heard movement inside.

“Go away,” came your voice, muffled and small.

Shadow’s ears twitched. You sounded exhausted—hollow in a way he hadn’t heard before.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, his tone firm but not harsh. “But I need to know you’re okay.”

Another long pause. Eventually, the door creaked open just a crack.

You didn’t meet his eyes. Your face was tired, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but the words were unconvincing even to yourself.

Shadow’s gaze softened. “You’re not.”

The door opened a little wider, and he could see the state of your apartment—the cluttered surfaces, the curtains drawn tight against the light. It was clear you hadn’t been taking care of yourself, and the sight of it made something tighten in his chest.

“I didn’t want to go today,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to do… anything.”

Shadow stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind him. He didn’t speak right away, giving you time to retreat to the edge of your bed. You sat with your head in your hands, your breaths uneven.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly, moving to sit on the floor near you. “Sometimes the world feels too big. Like you can’t face it.”

Your fingers curled tighter into your hair. “It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s… everything. It’s all wrong, and I can’t fix it. I’m just—” You stopped, choking back a sob.

“You’re overwhelmed,” Shadow finished for you, his voice steady. “That doesn’t make you weak.”

Your breathing hitched.

Shadow leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You’ve survived this long. That means you’re stronger than you think.”

His words weren’t flowery or overly comforting—they were simple, grounded in truth.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice raw.

“I told you before. I’ve been there,” he said without hesitation. “I know how lonely it feels. I’m not going to let somebody drown in it.”

Shadow stayed with you that night. He didn’t push you to talk, but he also didn’t leave. He tidied the room quietly, opened the curtains to let in the moonlight, and made sure you drank a glass of water before you finally lay down.

As you drifted off, his words lingered in your mind: You’re not alone.

For the first time in days, it felt like you weren’t.

[tori111777]

FRIGHT AND FURY 2

Part 1

Summary: conversations about and with your husband, Caracalla right before the second day of the games.

Warnings: spoilers of gladiator 2

Parings: Caracalla x wife!reader

You had awaken alone in your bed to the early morning light. You stretched beneath the covers, feeling the cool sheets where Caracalla had not lain with you last night, his absence pressing into you with the same weight as the silence that filled the room.

It was a morning like so many others, you got up and got ready. It wasn’t unusual for your husband to sleep in other places when he got upset the night prior or when his mind became too strong.

As your servant was doing your hair, putting into beautiful braids and adding golden leaves you stared at the empty spot of the bed. It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did right not, it has never bothered you before.

As the last braid was pinned in place, the golden leaves catching the early light, you caught your reflection in the mirror. The woman was beautiful, of course she was, she was you. Of noble brith and high ranking in Ancient Rome. You are the Roman dream.

The door swung open and you saw that it was Emperor Geta. It was either him or Caracalla as no such person could open a noble women’s door without asking. He was a familiar face, but also one that carried the weight of his own ambitions.

"Emperor Geta," you greeted him. "I hope I am not intruding," Geta said as he stepped into the room, the sharp click of his sandals on the marble floor accentuating the silence.

"You are not intruding, my lord," you replied with a small bow of your head, a gracious smile curling your lips.

“I’ve come to see if you are ready for the games today. My brother should have been here by now to lead you away.” He seemed a bit concerned about it by pursing his lips a bit. “I am sure he will be here in time soon enough.” You gave a smile of reinsurance to him.

His unease seemed genuine, though his eyes lingered on you a little longer than was strictly necessary. It wasn’t unusual for brothers like him and Caracalla to be at odds, but you did not expect the Emperor himself to arrive at your chambers in his place.

Geta's lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. "Do you miss him, my lady?" His tone was light, almost playful, but the way his eyes fixed on you felt more intent than playful. You could feel the shift in the air—the way he suddenly filled the space between you both. It made you uneasy, the two emperors have always been… something.

"I’ve grown accustomed to his late night walks," you replied, your voice cool and collected.

"Of course," Geta said, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer. "But you should know that my brother is... difficult to read, even for me." You tilted your head slightly, not quite trusting the shift in tone. "I know him well enough." You didn’t say too well, though that was the truth.

"And yet," he said, his voice almost a whisper, "even you must admit that you don't always understand him. Not entirely." He paused, letting the silence stretch between you. "And that can be... unsettling, can't it?" He was trying to see how much you could reveal about his brother. How much he could use against him.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the dressing table, though your expression remained unyielding. "I understand him well enough to know that his moods can change like the seasons," you replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "But there are things even the gods themselves cannot control."

He stepped back a couple of paces, his hands folded together in front of him. "True," he murmured. "Even the gods are at mercy of fate."

“I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” you said again, though your voice was tinged with something less certain this time. “I will leave you to your preparations. Caracalla will surely be along shortly.” He made a show of bowing his head, a mock gesture of deference, before turning to leave.

You watched the servant outside your door close it behind him and suddenly a wave of fresh air had come into the room, even if the window was closed. The room now silent as only you stood there and could only hear your breathing.

Your mind swirled. You knew Caracalla had always been restless, but last night was different. There had been something raw in him and maybe even something raw in you for trying to help him. But what did you truly know of him, of his mind?

The second day of the games would be held later today in preparation of getting it ready as they needed to fill up the colosseum with water. Though if Caracalla didn’t lead you out to the area today it would not only be an embarrassment for you but to him as well.

And now Geta’s appearance only added another layer to the puzzle. The way his eyes lingered, the way his tone shifted with that subtle, almost imperceptible playfulness—What was his motive behind it all?

It wouldn’t be until minutes later of being left alone in your mind that the door would soon open again. You sat in a comfortable chair, facing out into the streets of Rome like how you always did.

You didn’t have to turn to know who it was. The presence, though always commanding, was unmistakable—Caracalla.

When he entered, the light from the window caught the edge of his dark tunic, he was wearing black today, seeing from the reflection of the window. A symbol of death, but of course he didn’t know it meant death.

"I see you're ready for the games," he said, his words almost detached, as though he were speaking to a stranger. "Yes," you replied without turning. "Are you well?"

You saw his reflection twitch, his jaw tightening ever so slightly before he took a step closer, closer than you anticipated. "I’m fine," he said, but there was something in his tone that didn’t match the word.

You looked back to him and saw that he was right behind you. He did indeed look fine, his makeup being done, all of his gold glistening, and his clothes all neatly and tightly worn around his body.

You felt the need to give him a smile of somewhat. Last night conversation was left off but you dare not to bring it to the table. “Are you ready to leave for the games, my lady?” Your husband said, laying out his hand for you to take.

“As always.” You replied.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ONE ━━ Move-in Day

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 5.8K

❀ ━ warnings: none except this shits so dialogue heavy it’s almost sickening

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: hiii so this is my new series!!! i lowkey hate this chapter SO much i’ve rewritten it three times and can’t get it the way i want so i’m just publishing it as is. this fic is going to be much more light-hearted than take me to church (lol), big big slow burn and if i get it right almost reminiscent of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than i did LOL

THE EARLY afternoon light filters in through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the apartment floor. Paige stands in the middle of her new room, surveying the chaos of boxes, bags, and half-assembled furniture. It’s good to be back on campus—she’s been away for a few weeks, visiting her dad and Drew in Maryland and then her mom and siblings in Montana, and while she’s glad to have seen them, she can’t help but feel a pull toward the UConn, being with the team, practicing, basketball, all the above.

Her mind buzzes with excitement, anticipation for the new year, the new faces, the new challenges. She’s already mentally putting together how the season might go, how she’ll keep pushing herself harder, how she’s ready to lead her team. It feels like the first time in a long time that she’s been able to focus purely on basketball without the stress or rehab and recovery and she’s glad.

Her roommate, Josephine Jacobson—Jo—isn’t around yet. She’s a freshman, a sweet girl, the type that bleeds sunshine but can pull the demon out of herself on the court. Paige knows all about her, of course—how she’s a natural point guard, the number one recruit in the nation, will probably be the future of their team—but they’ve never really been close. Haven’t had the chance to be. But, as always, Paige feels optimistic about it. God put them together for a reason. After all, her past roommates have become some of her best friends. Nika and Evina her freshman year, and then Amari and Dorka last year. It just works out that way. Basketball bonds people, and she’s sure this year will be no different.

She moves one of the boxes to the side, careful not to knock over a stack of them as she does so. She arranges a pile of sweatshirts and sweatpants, making sure everything’s folded as neatly as she’s able to before moving on to the next task. This year, she’s determined to keep things organized, less chaos, more control. She wants her space to actually look nice, not like she’s some sort of slob. (She’s not sure how long this goal is going to last for).

Aubrey strolls in, another one of Paige’s boxes tucked into her hip. She’s already unpacked herself, having got here yesterday, and she’d offered to help Paige when she got here a little under an hour ago. Aubrey opens the box, seeing the bright purple comforter inside.

“Okay, P! I see color!” she says, a teasing grin on her face. “You finally given up on making your room look like a prison cell?”

Paige laughs, rolling her eyes. “Aye, my standards have rose this year. No more living in a box.” She gestures to the several LeBron and basketball posters filtering the floor in the corner of the room. “Decorating it nice this time, trust.”

Aubrey shakes her head, clearly amused. “Yep, I’m sure Bron’s face being the first thing you see when you walk in is gon’ make it real cozy.”

Paige just laughs again, stepping back to decide which corner of the room she wants her bed in. She tilts her head, looking back before deciding it’ll go best directly across the mirror-closet. For certain reasons she’d probably rather keep to herself for now.

“Who’re you rooming with again?” Paige asks, looking over at Aubrey, who’s taken the liberty of placing the millions of shoes Paige owns on the top shelf of her closet.

“Carol and Lili. It’s gonna be chill, for sure.” She shrugs before her eyes gleam a little, smirking at Paige. “Azzi’s gonna have it rough this year, though. Putting her with two freshmen is crazy work. They hyper as hell.”

Paige shrugs a little as she moves over to her bed. “Eh, Ines seems more quiet if anything. Ice, though, yeah. Azzi’ll be fine, though. She deals with me enough and I’m prolly just as bad.”

“Worse,” Aubrey corrects.

Paige rolls her eyes, opting to ask, “Can you help?” instead of responding to the jab. Aubrey nods, moving from her spot by the closet to stand next to Paige before the bed. “Where d’you want it?” she asks.

“Just in that corner,” the blonde responds, nodding her head to the other side.

Aubrey nods again and strides to the opposite side of the bed, the one near the wall. It’s a queen, so it’s too wide for just the two of them to carry, meaning they’ll have to just push it. Paige sighs before starting, her muscles straining slightly as she shoves her bed across the floor, the bed frame scraping noisily against it. Aubrey’s beside her, grabbing the other side with a grunt, their movements in sync but still awkward, both of them trying to be careful not to knock anything over or break anything.

“So,” Aubrey starts, breaking the rhythm of their movements, “what d’you think about yours? Jo. She’s a freshie, too.”

Paige doesn’t pause, her hands gripping the bed frame as she shifts it a few more inches. She’s thinking more about the layout of the room—where she wants things. After a few seconds, she shrugs, glancing over at Aubrey. “She’s cute,” Paige says simply, her voice light as she looks for the right angle to fit the bed by the wall.

Aubrey pauses. For a second, Paige doesn’t even notice—she’s too busy pushing the bed into position. But then Aubrey let’s our a low, exaggerated breath and Paige glances up, noticing the way she’s studying her with a raised brow.

Aubrey gives her a behave type of look. “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson,” she tells Paige, slow and deliberate, like she’s really trying to get the blonde to understand this.

Paige’s head whips toward her, eyes wide, her grip slipping off the bed frame. “What?” she asks, voice higher than she intends. She looks at Aubrey, still not quite sure if she’s hearing her right. “What are you even talking ‘bout?”

Aubrey just stares, the expression on her face unwavering. “I’m saying, you can’t fuck her. Like, seriously, don’t even think about it.”

The words hit Paige like a slap, but it’s not the harshness of them that makes her heart skip. It’s the fact that Aubrey said it with such absolute certainty, like it was a rule she needed to lay down for Paige.

The blonde furrows her brows as she process what Aubrey just said. She opens her mouth, trying to make sense of it. “Aubrey, what? I—” she stops herself, trying to piece things together. The more she thinks about it, the weirder it all sounds. She barely knows Jo—hell, Jo hasn’t even gotten to campus yet. She’s literally just a sweet freshman, one of the new players. Of course, Paige isn’t thinking about anything remotely romantic with her. Not at all.

She can’t even fathom it.

“Aubrey, bro, are you seriously suggesting that I… What?” Paige repeats, still not believing it. “I—I don’t—no, no, that’s not even a thing.”

Aubrey exclaims, “You just said she was cute! You can’t be doing that, P.”

Paige shakes her head, laughing a little in disbelief, clearly thrown by the whole insinuation. “Yeah, like in a I-wanna-pinch-your-cheeks kind of cute,” she says, mimicking the motion with her hands. “Like she’s sweet, not like she’s fine and I wanna hit that. She’s a freshman and our teammate, bro—you know I ain’t do stuff like that.”

Aubrey, unfazed by Paige’s defense, just raises an eyebrow. “Ion know, your hook-ups have been kinda wild lately.”

Paige rolls her eyes as she reaches down, grabbing the corner of the bed and pulling it another inch into place. “That’s different,” Paige tells her. “That was like, months ago—”

“Three weeks ago,” Aubrey interrupts, but Paige doesn’t bother listening.

“—and that wasn’t even serious. I wouldn’t do that shit with Jo. She’s pretty, but—”

She cuts herself off, realizing how that could sound, and immediately backpedals.

“But she’s a teammate,” Paige finishes, nodding as though it’s the most logical conclusion. Which, it is. “I don’t see her like that. She’ll prolly be like a little sister or something. Seriously, you ain’t gotta worry about this.”

Aubrey doesn’t seem entirely convinced but just shrugs it off with a nonchalant wave. “Alright, alright. Just makin’ sure. Senior duties and all,” she says.

Paige rolls her eyes, nudging the girl in her ribs. Aubrey hisses, and nudges the blonde back. And then they return their attention to the bed, giving it one final tug, making sure it’s aligned just right.

Paige pulls away, taking a look with her hands on her hips. The room looks good, feels right. A good place to spend her next year. And even though she doesn’t know what that year might bring—how the team will play, how her body will hold up—it feels like everything’s in its place for now.

(Minus Aubrey’s odd assumptions, that is).

JO’S STOMACH flutters with a mixture of excitement and nerves as the car pulls into the parking lot right in front of what will be her new home. Her gaze drifts over the apartment building, taking in the sprawling complex that will be hers for the next year. The sun is high, casting everything in a golden glow, and it’s one of those perfect, early summer days—the kind that makes everything feel new and fresh. This is it. She’s finally here. UConn; her dream since forever. The place she’s watched on TV for as long as she can remember, watching them win championship after championship. And, now, it’s real. She’s actually here.

Her dad pulls into a parking space, the car humming to a stop, and Jo takes a deep breath, fighting back the lump in her throat. It’s not that she’s scared; it’s more that it feels huge. This is the beginning of everything. Her heart races a little, her palms tingling. She’s excited—so excited—but it’s all a little daunting, too. The whole what if she doesn’t belong here, what if it’s not everything she’s ever dreamed of echoes in her head, but she knows better than to entertain those thoughts. Despite this always being her dream school, she made sure to explore her options before committing. And, after everything, Storrs was somehow her favorite.

But it’s still a little hard to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispers doubts. At least she has familiar faces here—her teammates. She can’t imagine coming here alone, without knowing anyone at all, without that built-in support system. It helps, knowing that the people she’s going to spend the next chapter of her life with are familiar faces, not strangers. Still, there’s a big difference between practice and living together, between seeing someone for a few hours on a court and sharing an apartment with them. The whole thing feels a little surreal.

“Ready, sunshine?” her dad asks, giving her a side-eye as he shuts off the car. His voice has a teasing, comforting quality that always makes Jo feel like everything will be okay.

Jo doesn’t answer right away, just smiles nervously, nodding as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “I think so,” she says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Her mom grins at her from the front seat, practically glowing with excitement. “Come on, it’s gonna be so great, Joey.”

Jo laughs softly, the sound easy and light, nodding. They get out of the car, opening the trunk, and Jo begins unloading her bags and boxes—the millions of them. She didn’t mean to over-pack, but somehow, her whole life had been crammed into suitcases and boxes. Her parents each grab as much as they can hold, but even the three of them can’t carry everything, so they head toward the building, the weight of it all already starting to feel like more than it should.

The hallway inside the building smells like fresh paint and clean floors, and it has that crisp, cool air of a place that’s seen its fair share of new beginnings. Jo’s parents chat with each other, but Jo can hardly keep her thoughts straight. She’s here, really here, and she’s not sure if it’s excitement or fear that’s making her heart beat so fast.

They trudge up the stairs together—her dad leading, her mom picking up the rear, and Jo in the middle. The stairs creak beneath their weight, and every step takes them closer to her new life. She tries not to think about how much this move means, how much it’s going to mean—because that’s just the kind of thing that could make her go a little crazy.

When they finally reach her apartment, Jo’s the first to pull out her keys. She opens the door, excitement bubbling in her chest, but as she’s about to step inside, someone is trying to step out, bumping right into her.

Paige.

She steadies Jo with a hand on her shoulder, looking down at the girl—she’s only got a couple inches on Jo, but it certainly feels like a lot more right now—saying, with a little bit of surprise in her tone, “Oh, hi, Jo.”

Jo stills for just a split second. She’s met Paige several times—throughout her recruitment, last year when she and Ice and Yanna were here for First Night, all the games she attended in between—but, for Jo, it’s still a little like, wow, okay, hi Paige Bueckers. She’s admired Paige and her game for years, so yeah, maybe she’s a little starstruck every time she sees her. But she realizes just as quickly how that needs to change immediately because they are going to be living together for the next year. She’s here for a reason, not to be starry-eyed over the blonde girl in front of her.

“Hey!” Jo manages, flashing Paige a bright, warm smile that’s always her go-to move, even if her heart is racing.

Paige’s gaze shifts from Jo’s face to her parents, then down to the ridiculous amount of luggage they’re all holding, and her eyebrows raise. “Wow,” she says with a laugh. “Over-packer?”

Jo laughs, too, feeling some of that initial awkwardness beginning to seep away. “This isn’t even all of it,” she admits, shifting her weight a little. She realizes how she’s being a little rude, not introducing her mom and dad, so she gestures to them and says, “These are my parents. And this is Paige.”

Jo’s parents exchange polite hellos, nodding toward the blonde, who’s already stepping aside to let them through.

“Lemme help you with that,” Paige offers before anyone can protest, already lifting a couple of boxes from Jo’s mom. It’s clear she’s used to helping out—comfortable in this setting—and Jo appreciates it, even though she knows she can manage. But Paige’s energy is infectious, and she can’t help but feel comforted by the ease in the older girl’s presence.

“Thanks,” Jo says gratefully. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

Paige shrugs, a casual smile on her face. “It’s all good. We’ve got time. I’ll help you get settled.”

The four of them make their way into the apartment, and Jo’s parents immediately make a beeline for Jo’s bedroom to drop off the bags they’re carrying. They work together, setting everything down in a neat pile before Jo’s mom turns to her with a warm smile.

“We’ll go get the rest of it,” she tells her daughter. “You start unpacking, ‘kay?”

Jo nods, trying to hide the way her heart sinks a little at the idea of being left alone for the first time in a new place.

But then she realizes, she’s not alone. Paige is still here.

Jo takes a deep breath, then steps further into her room, already eyeing the empty bed and the space where she’s going to have to build her new life. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them. For a moment, neither says anything. It’s a little awkward, that first silence between two almost-strangers who are about to be more than that—roommates, teammates, friends.

Paige rubs the back of her neck, probably feeling it too. Clearly, though, she doesn’t like that, and Jo watches as she lazily plops down into the standard-issue desk chair, making herself at ease. She grins at Jo, saying with a casualness that somehow manages to be both disarming and mildly intimidating, “So, how was the drive?”

Jo shrugs a little, leaning slightly on the bed frame. “Not bad,” she replies. “Boston’s only like an hour and a half away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Paige says, nodding her head in almost mock realization. “New England girl. I knew that.”

Jo grins, bemused and already starting to feel more comfortable. “Born and raised.”

“Nice,” Paige says, dragging the word out a little. “You got the accent and everything?”

“I don’t know, do I sound like I do?” Jo asks, laughing softly.

Paige’s grin widens as she spins in the chair. “Hmm,” she hums, eyes narrowing teasingly. “I dunno, talk more.”

Jo laughs again, looking at the blonde with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “What do you want me to say?” she questions, tilting her head as another small giggle bubbles in her chest.

“Like, something with an R. That’s what a Boston accent is, right?” Paige shrugs, gummy smile on full display and eyebrows raised. She leans forward a little, before saying with a terrible attempt at a Boston accent, “Park the car in Harvard yard?”

Jo can’t help but outright snort at that, stomach constricting as she laughs at the blonde. Paige laughs, too, scrunching her nose as she does so. “Oh my God, you did not,” Jo manages between giggles, eyes crinkling a little.

“I did,” Paige replies. “Now you gotta! Lemme hear the accent!”

“You’re not real,” Jo mumbles, shaking her head, in half disbelief at the pure unseriousness of Paige Bueckers. But it’s nice—that she’s already making her feel so comfortable. Jo sighs, before saying indignantly, “Park the car in Harvard yard.”

Paige claps her hands together, laughing loudly as she exclaims, “You definitely have one!”

Jo’s jaw drops a little, defending, “No one has ever told me I have an accent, you definitely just need your ears checked.”

Paige grins, shaking her head, saying, “Nah, it’s there. I heard it.”

“Fine,” Jo relents, rolling her eyes. “You should hear my dad, though. It’s really thick sometimes.”

Paige leans forward on the chair again, eyes lighting up with a bit of interest. “I gotta hear it. Maybe I’ll ask him to say it, too.”

Jo just shakes her head, rolling her eyes again as the corners of her mouth twitch upward despite herself. There’s something about Paige that makes it hard to stay guarded—not that Jo was trying to. She’s just… larger than life in a way that could definitely be overwhelming, but there’s such an ease to her too, a confidence that feels oddly inviting.

“Are you finished unpacking?” Jo asks, breaking the newfound silence as she gestures vaguely toward the blonde’s room behind the door.

Paige shrugs, her expression somewhere between proud and sheepish. “Mostly. Aubrey and I did it this morning, but I definitely cut corners. If you open any of the drawers in there, so messy. I got lazy.”

Jo raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking up. “Efficient, though.”

“Exactly,” Paige says, pointing at her. “You get it.”

And then the easy rhythm between them is interrupted by the loud, unmistakable growl of Jo’s stomach. Her cheeks flush immediately as Paige’s grin spreads wider, her laugh concerns again breaking the quiet of the room.

“Hungry?” she teases, spinning the chair one last time before stopping to slouch backward against it.

“Ugh, yeah,” Jo groans, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten since, like, breakfast.”

“Same,” Paige says with a nod, pushing herself up out of the chair and stretching her arms over her head. “I think we’re all gonna get pizza tonight, though. Go up to Nika’s and hang out. She’s with Yanna and Amari. You’re coming, of course.”

Jo grins, raising her eyebrows as she says teasingly, “I don’t have a choice?” It’s just a joke, because, obviously, even if she did, she’d go either way.

Paige gives her a little look, narrowing her eyes jokingly as she leans forward, flicking Jo on the arm and telling her, “Absolutely not.”

Before she can respond, there’s a knock at the doorframe and Jo’s mom’s voice floats in cheerfully, “Look who we found!”

Jo turns to see her parents standing in the doorway, her dad carrying a suitcase while her mom holds the door open for someone else—none other than Ice Brady. Jo knows Ice well, the two of them having gotten easily close during different USA basketball gigs and through their shared commitment process. Ice grins broadly, a laundry basket balanced on her hip—clearly, she’s been put to work.

“Aye, hey guys!” she calls out, stepping into the room with an energy that matches her nickname—cool, but in a warm and easy way.

“Of course they roped you into helping,” Jo says, laughing as Ice sets the basket down with a playful groan.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she says, shaking her head playfully as she glances back at Jo’s parents who just smile at her, shrugging.

Ice then leans in, giving Jo a little side-hug as she says, “Hey, JoJo.”

Jo rolls her eyes, swatting at Ice’s arm. “I told you, no calling me that.” While Paige, who’s now leant casually against the desk, exclaims, “Oh my God, like JoJo Siwa.”

Ice laughs saying, “Exactly,” as she leans over and daps Paige up with a grin. Jo gives both of them little glares, saying, “No, I am not JoJo Siwa! Jo or Josephine, nothing else.”

Ice shrugs, sniggering, “JoJo.”

“Isuneh!”

THE AIR in the apartment is warm and filled with the hum of overlapping voices. Paige sits tucked into the corner of the small couch, her legs crossed under her, a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on a paper plate in her lap. To her right, Dorka’s mid-sentence, recounting some story from her summer that has Aaliyah laughing hard enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

It’s the first real team hangout of the year, the kind where the bonds for the season start to form, where they begin to really get to know the new guys. The absence of last year’s seniors—Christyn, Olivia, E—feels strange but not exactly heavy; just like a space waiting to be filed rather than a void that can’t be. Paige glances across the room at Lou, Azzi, and Ines, sprawled across the other couch. Azzi leans back, her ankles crossed on the coffee table, her focus more on her phone than the conversation, but Paige knows her well enough to see that she’s listening. Lou’s animated hands keep catching Paige’s eye as she gestures through some story, and Ines is nodding along, face lighting up with her adorable freshman-ness.

Paige’s gaze then drifts downward, landing on the scene on the floor. Jo is half-laying across Caroline’s legs, her dark hair spilling against Caroline’s leggings. Caroline, ever the mother, absently runs her fingers through Jo’s hair while chatting with Aubrey. Faintly, Paige is aware that Jo and Caroline know each other well, have been friends for years. Both grew up in Massachusetts, not far from one another, same AAU team if Paige’s memory serves her correctly.

The new guys—the freshmen and Lou—all already fit in well. Lou and Ines have already created easy bonds with each other and Azzi. Ice is playfully bickering with Nika and Amari at the table, the three of them leaning into a conversation that seems half-joking, half-serious. Jo’s a little quiet, looking more thoughtful than anything, but Paige can tell she’s completely comfortable as she lays on Caroline and listens to her steady stream of chatter. Yanna, too, though she’s also on the quiet side, pitches into Aubrey and Caroline’s conversation every now and then.

Paige shifts her focus back to her plate, taking another bite of pizza. It’s bland and overly chewy, a far cry from what she’s been craving. She doesn’t say anything, though. The conversation flows around her, easy and light, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of someone setting a cup down too hard.

“God, this tastes like cardboard,” Ice announces suddenly, holding up her slice with a look of exaggerated disgust.

“Yeah, it’s… not good,” Jo says with a little grimace, Paige watching as she glances at her half-eaten slice that she hasn’t touched in probably ten minutes.

“Tastes like cafeteria food,” Yanna says from her spot on the bar stool, though Paige can see that she’s eaten all of hers.

“Worse than cafeteria food,” Azzi chimes in, eyes still on her phone, tone a little dry. “School pizza pretends to have flavor.”

Nika nods at everyone’s words, looking like the pizza situation might as well be a tragedy. Which, to Nika, Paige knows it kind of is. “Yeah, bro, we gotta go to New Haven if we want any god pizza. It’s my biggest disappointment in life.”

Paige grins at that, leaning back into the couch as she watches the exchange. It’s funny to her how every year, without fail, the new players get hit with the reality of Storrs’ subpar pizza options. “Y’all gotta get used to it.”

Ice groans, and Paige laughs a little as she contradicts herself and takes another big bite of pizza.

Jo glances up from her spot on the floor, dark brows arching in amusement. “Nika, New Haven’s an hour away.”

“Worth it,” Nika insists, hands slicing through the air for emphasis. “Best pizza in the country, hands down.”

“Eh, debatable,” Ice fires back, smirking.

“Debatable?” Nika repeats, looking scandalized. “’Kay, no, see, now you gotta go. I’m takin’ you to Pepe’s or Sally’s, and then we’ll talk.”

The debate spirals from there, the room splitting into factions—those who have been to New Haven and swear by it, and the skeptics like Ice who clearly need convincing. Paige inputs a couple times, but other than that continues eating her cardboard pizza, taking the time to listen, which she doesn’t usually do. The topic quickly starts to feel like it’s been beaten to death, but that doesn’t stop Nika from gesturing wildly as Ice shakes her head, arms crossed like she’s already over it.

Paige’s gaze shifts from them to Jo and Caroline, who are directly in front of her across the room. There’s a mischievous tilt to Jo’s smile as she watches Ice and Nika, and Paige feels a pang of curiosity. Jo looks like she’s got something to say, and sure enough, a beat later, she interrupts with a voice that carries just enough weight to make everyone turn her way.

“Ice,” Jo interrupts, her tone deceptively innocent, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s quit talking about pizza and talk about your new little goal you’ve got.”

The room collectively seems to perk up at that. Paige sits up straighter, interest piqued. She glances at Ice, who immediately shoots Jo a warning glare.

“No,” the Brady girl says firmly, voice clipped.

The refusal only makes Paige more curious. She leans forward, elbows on her knees now, eyes wide with a playful insistence. “Oh, no, you gotta tell us now,” she exclaims, grin wide.

Aaliyah, beside her, says, “Yeah, Ice, don’t leave us hangin’!”

Ice shakes her head, clearly unwilling to budge. But Jo, apparently unfazed by the glare the Brady girl has set on her hard, sits up slightly, her smile turning almost devilish. “Ice said she wants a sneaky link by next week. It’s her number one goal now that she’s on campus!”

The reaction is instant and explosive. Loud laughs and little screams of exclamation erupt from everyone as Ice’s face twists into a mix of betrayal and outrage. Paige finds herself laughing so hard she has to lean back into the couch, her head tipping toward the ceiling as her shoulders shake.

“Jo!” Ice exclaims, her voice a biz of exasperation and disbelief. She grabs a napkin from the table and chucks it at Jo, who barely flinches.

Caroline picks the napkin up and tosses it toward the trash can, her tone scolding and motherly as she says, “Ice.”

But Ice doesn’t listen. Instead, she points an accusing finger at Jo, her eyes narrowing. “JoJo, you’re such a traitor.”

Jo’s grin only widens. She shrugs, looking utterly unbothered as she settled back into Caroline’s lap. “Hey, we’re all willing to help you find a fuck buddy, don’t you worry.”

Ice glares even harder and it makes Jo laugh again. Paige can’t help but let her gaze linger on the brunette, her chest still tight from laughing. Jo’s giggles are unrestrained, her cheeks flushed with amusement. There’s something about it that Paige finds infectious. The way Jo lights up when she’s laughing feels almost magnetic, like she’s carrying her own little pocket of sunshine.

“Oh, Ice,” Nika says, pulling Paige’s gaze away from Jo. There’s a familiar glint in Nika’s eyes. “If you need help finding a sneaky link, Paige is the expert. She’s got you covered.”

Paige’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as she stares at her twin. “Yo!” she exclaims, sitting up.

Amari snorts from her spot at the table, her expression one of barely-constrained amusement. “P, be for real.”

Azzi, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in a while, adds in without missing a beat, “Paige is a man-whore, if that wasn’t obvious.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her hand clutching her chest like she’s been mortally wounded. “I ain’t even a man!”

“You act like one,” Caroline chimes in, voice calm but teasing.

Paige just stares at all of them, her mouth slightly open, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Man, what’s all this gangin’ up on me for?” she asks, her tone half-offended, half-playful.

Eventually, the room’s energy slowly shifts as the teasing dies down. Laughter fades into soft chuckles, and everyone starts settling back into their spots. Paige stretches her legs out again, her socked feet brushing lightly against the coffee table. The buzz of the conversation has left her grinning, though her cheeks still feel warm from all the ribbing. She’s content to let the chatter flow around her now, her focus drifting as she scrolls on Instagram until Aaliyah leans forward from the couch and throws a spark back into the room.

“Jo,” Aaliyah says, tone playful, “since you were so quick to expose Ice, you got anyone you’ve been wanting?”

Paige perks up at that, curious despite herself. Sue her if she’s nosy. She glances toward Jo, who’s still sprawled on the floor, her head now resting against Caroline’s knee. Jo’s expression doesn’t change much, maybe softens slightly.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ice says quickly, annoyance lacing her voice. Paige can tell it’s because she can’t humiliate Jo like she’s just exposed her. Ice gestures at the Jacobson girl with her pizza crust like she’s making a point. “Girl’s already met her damn husband.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the certainty in Ice’s tone. She watches Jo carefully now, noting the way a faint smile tugs at her lips. It’s not the cheeky grin she’s been wearing most of the night; it’s something softer, quieter, like the thought of this so-called future husband of hers is enough to soothe her, ground her.

Amari leans forward from her chair and tilts her head. “Aw, Jo, you have a boyfriend?”

Jo nods, that same small, telling smile still on her face. Paige notices how her cheeks turn just the slightest shade pinker. It’s… different. Softer, almost vulnerable.

Damn, Paige thinks, watching her. She must really love that boy.

The room seems to erupt again, this time not in laughter but in a cascade of questions and exclamations. Nika asks, “How long you been dating?”

Jo shifts a little, clearly embarrassed, mumbling, “Eighth grade.”

Paige feels her eyes widen, almost so wide they might as well pop out of their sockets. It’s impressive—a middle school relationship lasting that long.

But then Caroline adds with a knowing smile, “Yeah, but you’ve loved him since you were, like, four, Jo.”

Jo’s face flushes deeper, and she buries it briefly against Caroline’s leg before mumbling, “Yeah, we’ve been next-door neighbors our whole lives.”

The whole team seems to aw at that, exclaiming how cute. “Jo, that’s like a movie!” Azzi says softly, a hopeless romantic. Paige has to admit they’re not wrong. It’s that perfect, golden sort of story people write novels about—the girl-next-door falling for the boy-next-door.

Except Paige doesn’t really think it’s all that cute. Maybe it’s because she’s too gay, but she doesn’t get how anyone could be into a boy, especially for that long. It just seems… exhausting. Still, she keeps her mouth shut, letting the conversation roll on without her. It’s uncharacteristic.

Ines, eyes wide with interest asks, “What’s his name?”

“Asher,” Jo answers, voice soft but steady.

Dorka, next to Paige, claps her hands together. “Let me see a picture, Jo!”

Jo hesitates for a second, her blush depending, but then she sits up and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She unlocks it, turning the screen toward Dorka—and toward Paige, who can’t help but sneak a glance.

Paige hates to admit it, but it’s… cute. The way Jo’s looking at him in the picture—it’s soft, unguarded, like the rest of the world could fall away, and she wouldn’t care as long as he’s there.

Paige doesn’t know if she’s jealous that Jo has a love like that and she doesn’t, or if she’s disgusted by the whole prospect.

Dorka coos, smile wide. “So cute!”

Jo laughs, a little bashful now, and Aubrey pipes up from her spot on the barstool by the kitchen. “Where’s he going to school?”

“Penn State,” Jo answers.

Paige catches the the slight shift in Jo’s posture, the way she tenses a little, the way her smile falters ever so slightly. That kind of distance is hard, especially for a young relationship.

Paige leans back into the couch, her gaze still lingering on Jo as the conversation continues. She wonders if they’ll last. Not in a mean way—Jo clearly loves the guy—but Paige has seen it happen before. Everyone has. High school sweethearts falling apart once they hit college, the distance and the changes proving too much.

Still, something about the way Jo smiled at him in that photo makes Paige hesitate. Maybe they’ll be one of the lucky ones.

Or maybe it’s not her place for even thinking about it at all.

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Liliana!! 🥳

Part 5 -

———————————————————————

I wake up the second I heard Lilian crying. I look to see what time it is, 6:34 a.m.. I slide out of bed and open the door to see if anybody has gotten up, so far nothing, so I go ahead and make my way to Lilian’s room, opening the door seeing her sat up in the crib rubbing her eyes and crying.

“Happy birthday sweetie pie” I say walking over to her, picking her up, her crying automatically dying down as she looks up at me before laying her head on my shoulder. I go ahead and take her over to her changing table, laying her down, unzipping her onesie enough to be able to pull her diaper off. “Goodness girl” I said in a funny voice as she smiled at me. I smiled back, grabbing another diaper sliding it on, and zipping her onesie back up.

I pick her up and head out her door to come face to face with Mack. “I figured it would be you” she smiled at me as I smiled back

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself” I admit

“No, you’re fine, I’ll show you where her formula and everything is and good morning birthday girl” she said leaning over and kissing Lilian on the forehead before pointing me towards the stairs.

“If you want, you can go back to bed for a bit, I don’t mind watching her” I tell her

“I may take you up on that” she grinned sleepily as we made it into the kitchen, opening up a cabinet door to reveal the bottles and cans of formula. She pulled one of each out and sat it on the bar before getting it all started. While we waited for the bottle to warm up, we just stood in a comfortable silence waiting.

“Did you have a good time last night?” Mack smiles, crossing her arms

“Yeah, you were right, they were fun to be around” I tell her

“Oh yeah, they’re a hoot” she laughs, “thinking about giving Austin a shot?” She asks

“We’ll see” I say grabbing the bottle out of her hand

“That’s better than a no” she remarks “I’m gonna go try to get another hour or so of sleep if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, go, I got her” I smile walking over to the couch taking a seat, before turning on the tv, trying to find a decent cartoon, settling for Scooby Doo.

Once Lilian finished her bottle and a few snacks, we got down on the floor to play. Mainly just working on her walking. That’s when the guest bedroom door opens up, revealing a shirtless Drew that’s wiping his eyes.

“The tv didn’t wake you up did it?” I ask quickly, startling him

“What? Oh no, I didn’t even know it was on” he said putting his hand on his hip looking over at me, smiling when he realized I had Lilian.

“Okay good” I smile

“You want something coffee?” He asks me

“Yes please” I plead as he smiles heading to the kitchen.

After a few minutes he walks back in the living room handing me a mug, “you like a little milk, sugar, and carmel vanilla flavoring right?” He asks as I look up at him with wide eyes

“Uh.. yeah.. how’d —“ I started

“We talked about coffee that night too” he said taking a seat on the floor about a foot away from me, leaning back against the couch.

“Wow.. thanks, that’s sweet” I admit giving him a smile

“Sorry if that’s weird” he defended

“No no, just shocking a guy can actually remember something” I say and he smiles

“When you have good company, you tend to remember everything, even the bad” he says taking a sip as I turn my attention back to Lilian, taking a sip, watching Lilian crawl her way over to me, right into my lap.

“She really loves you” Drew smiles

“Are you kidding? She loves her uncle Drew, don’t ya kiddo?” I say holding her up to him making her smile real big, Drew smiling just as big in return.

“I hope when I have a kid, they’re as easy as she is, she’s the best baby I’ve been around” he says letting her take hold of his pointer finger leading her over to his lap

“Yeah, she seems to be really easy, I wonder how long it’ll last” I laugh making Drew nod

“Why do y’all look like a married couple and Lilian is y’all’s kid” Logan says making me and Drew both jump at his voice

“You scared me!” I said looking at him

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just walked out, and there y’all were, talking and looking at each other like a married couple with a kid in your lap, it was kinda cute but you’re my future wife, so” Logan explains making me laugh

“You’re right” I say agreeing sarcastically

“What are y’all doing anyway?” He asked us

“Just watching scooby doo, talking, and hanging out with Lil’s, what are you doing?” Drew asks

“Wanting some of that coffee, is there any more?” Logan asks as Drew nods making him rush into the kitchen

“He scared the shit out of me” Drew said making me nod

“I was half way expecting him to be hungover” I admit

“He tends to be fine once he wakes up most of the time” Drew says and I smile

“Lucky us” I grin

“No kidding” Drew laughs as Logan walks back and joins us on the floor.

“You look good this morning” Logan says looking at me

“You too Logan” I tease back

“Oh I know, I always look good” he jokes making me smile

“Without a doubt” I sarcastically agree

Logan gives me a playful dirty look before turning his attention to Drew, “What time is mom getting here?” Logan asks

“I’m not sure, call her” Drew suggests

“Ehh, I’ll give her some time” he says brushing it off as me and Drew both shake our heads.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, Mrs. Jodi finally arrived, immediately pushing her own boys out of the way to give me a hug before going to find Mack and Liliana.

“So even my mom likes you more than me” Logan rolls his eyes pushing me away playfully

“Don’t be jealous, I can’t help she loves me more” I joke, sticking my tongue out at both of them making Logan scoff while Drew just laughs.

We go back into the living room, Liliana sitting on the floor playing, now with Mrs. Jodi, while Mack is taking a break from decorating to talk to her mom for a bit. I go to take a seat on the couch which is quickly followed by Drew and Logan, Drew sitting in the middle.

“What do I need to do?” Mrs. Jodi asks Mack

“Nothing right now, got a few more things to put up, nothing major, and then it’ll be on to the food and getting all that set up, but that’ll be closer to time. Besides they have been a major help” she says motioning to us on the couch.

“Now Maddie, I believe, but your brothers, I’m not so sure” she teased

“For Liliana” Drew smiles as Logan agrees

“That makes more sense” she laughs looking at her two boys, “Maddie, how are you honey? Finally done with vet school?” She asks looking up at me

“Yes ma’am, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done but I believe it’s gonna be well worth it” I smile

“I know you’ll do great honey” she pats my knee before looking up at Drew with a look.. a look.. the look.. like she knows something… “boys, will you go get my bags out of the car and take them to my room” she asks then and they quickly get up and head towards the front door. “You have a little boyfriend yet?” Mrs. Jodi teases looking at me

“Oh no ma’am” I shrug

“Chase and Austin came over last night and Austin seemed to be VERY interested” Mack informs her

“Austin? Yea, he is a very sweet young man” Mrs. Jodi adds

“He’s okay” I somewhat agree with a slight smile

“Oh my gosh, just give him a chance, let the other guy go” Mack drags out

“Other guy?” Mrs. Jodi raises an eyebrow

“Maddie has been hung up on some random guy for years it feels like, and won’t give anybody else the time of day” she explains to her mom

“Well baby, you deserve the world, you’re an incredible young woman, and if you can’t allow yourself to be with somebody else, maybe finding this ‘random guy’ and trying to see what it could be, would be worth it for you” she says getting up to sit next to me on the couch.

“I can’t” I simply say

“What’s his name, I’ll do some stalking” Mack says, my eyes immediately going wide, shaking my head, “I’ll be right back, gonna get Lil’s some juice.” She says getting up and walking into the kitchen.

“Why do you feel like you can’t” Mrs. Jodi asks just as soon as Drew and Logan are walking through the house with her bags. Mine and Drew’s eyes meet for just a few seconds and when I look back over at Mrs. Jodi, I’m face to face with a knowing look.

“You know, don’t you?” I whisper, my face already getting red

“That you two snuck off, talked for hours, made out, and you ran off, yes ma’am I do” she smiles brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “When you came back downstairs, you were freaking out, just trying to get to your uber, you told me ‘I kissed Drew, I’m sorry, Mack’s gonna be pissed, I got to go, I love you” really quickly and ran out like you were in shock, then when I found Drew, he told me everything”

“Mack doesn’t know right?” I ask quickly with begging eyes

“If she does, it’s not from me, so is it him that you’ve been so hung up on?” she asks me

“Cause she can’t know, we have that pact, ya know? And yes ma’am…” I answer and she nods

“I truly believe that Mack wants you to be happy, regardless of who it is” she smiles at me and I shrug just as everyone comes back into the living room, “I know I’m all for having you officially in this family” she whispers to me just as Drew and I make eye contact again, feeling my heart skip a few beats as he takes the chair a few feet away from me, slightly smiling at me.

~~~~~~~~~~

Closer we got to 4, the more kids we had running around the house and more of the cleaning we did, felt like a waste of time. Parents were standing around outside watching as some of their kids were in the pool while others were drawing on the concrete with chalk.

I was able to meet quite a few of Mack and Garrett’s friends that I haven’t got to meet, along with a few of the friends I met at their wedding. But, no matter what I was, Drew stayed within 3 feet of me at all times. His excuse was, “you may feel overwhelmed and if I can help, I want to” which was just another thing he was proving that he remembered about me saying that night; how I hated meeting lots of new people at one time and being the odd man out, but in this case, it’s all for Liliana.

Finally, after everyone has made their rounds on introducing each other, it feels a look like stressful. I was sitting on the side of the pool next to Logan, our feet in the water, just watching the kids, waiting for Drew to bring us a drink.

“You know when you move back, I get a key to your place” he says with full confidence making me laugh

“We’ll see buddy” I laugh

“It’d be for emergencies” he clarifies

“Anything is an emergency to you, especially if you can’t get your answer within 5 seconds” I point out

“Exactly, emergency” he says grinning making me shake my head.

“here’s your Dr. Peppers” Drew says handing us one before taking his seat back on the other side of me slipping his feet back in the pool.

“Drew, shouldn’t Maddie give me a key to her place for emergencies?” Logan asks making me throw my head back in light laughter

“You ain’t even got a key to my place, why do you need a key to hers?” Drew asks looking at him

“Incase something happens” he explains

“I can handle myself” I argue

“And if she needs anybody, she can call us, we’ll answer” Drew adds giving me a smile which I return

“If you’re just saying that cause you want to come see me at any time, just knock, I may or may not let you in” I giggle nudging his arm making Logan roll his eyes.

“See.. that’s just rude” he said making me and Drew laugh

After a while of just talking and laughing, Mack hollered for everyone to come sing happy birthday to our sweet Liliana. Mack brought out the cake for Lils while Garrett brought out the cake for everyone else. As soon as Mack sat the cake down on the high chair table, Liliana was already tearing it up making us all laugh, trying to get her to hold out for the song. But the moment she got her chance, she was back at it, getting startled when all the kids screamed happy birthday at the top of their lungs.

“Okay! Who wants cake!” Garrett yells and everyone comes flying up to him waiting for their slice.

Mack, Mrs. Jodi, and I were all just in awe of Liliana and trying to capture every moment of her with her first cake. I felt a hand placed lightly on my back, making me look back quickly, only to see Drew.

“I got you a slice” he smiles down at me

“Well thank you” I smile back, snapping a few more pictures before grabbing my plate from him, “she’s so cute” I tell him

“It’s the Starkey genes, I’m telling ya” he said making me smile

“I can’t even argue with that” I shrug

“Ohhh, so you think I’m cute?” He whispers

“Don’t get such a big head” I tease nudging my elbow into his side lightly making him laugh

“You said it, not me” he says

“Technically, you did” I point out making him think back of what he just said

“Shut up” he jokes, laughing, nudging me with his elbow, “you ready to go out tonight?” He asks me

“Yeah, I guess so, I ain’t been out to a bar in a while” I answer

“Mack said you were always the life of the party when y’all were in college together” He says

“Yeah, I was everywhere, always dancing, always finding a new adventure” I chuckle

“What kind of dancing to you do?” He asks

“Really any, but was always a sucker for some line dancing, went out when I first moved to Florida, found a great dancing partner, but then as classes got harder, I never went.” I explain and he nods

“Well maybe you’ll find a new dancing partner tonight” he smiles at me we lock eyes

“Yea, maybe so” I smile, putting my attention on the kids instead.

Once everyone got done eating, it was time for presents. By the time the last present was open, it felt like we were in a target aisle, there was so many toys. Some of the toys were opened and already being played with some most of them, were moved into the house for later.

“Can we fill these up please?” A little boy, that I’m pretty sure his name was Tyler, asked me holding a bag of water balloons. I glanced over at Drew and he nodded

“Cmon buddy, we’ll help you” Drew said taking his empty hand and leading the way to the faucet. I couldn’t help the feeling I got in my stomach watching him lead the happy little boy.

“Can you go find us a bucket please?” Tyler asked me

“Of course” I smile turning to go find something, that’s when my eyes land on the kiddie pool leaned up against the house in the corner. I go to grab it an drag it back over to the opposite corner of the yard, right where Drew and Tyler were waiting.

“Get her!” Drew yells before they both throw a water balloon at me, immediately busting the second they meet my body.

“Drew!” I yell

“It was his idea!” Tyler defended pointing at Drew making me laugh

“I know honey, but I’m gonna get bath of yall back” I tease

“I knew it was a bad idea” tyler said scratching his head nervously

“I’d love to see you try” Drew says winking at me as I put my hands on my hood

“Fill em up Starkey” I say pushing his head to face the faucet.

Once he gets majority of the bag done, I lean down and grab a ballon, looking at Tyler, putting my finger over my lips making him smile. I put the balloon right over Drew’s head and squeeze it tightly until it bust and soaks his hair and his shoulders.

“Maddie…” he says grabbing a few balloons as I start to walk backwards, taking off into a sprint as he stands up coming after me.

“WATER BALLOON FIGHT!” I hear Tyler yell as loud as he can, grabbing a few out of the pool and throwing it, making everyone laugh and cheer as they go to grab some.

“You threw one at me, what’s wrong with me doing it back” I yell back at Drew laughing as I feel another busted ballon by my feet, “ha ha, your ouuut” I say slowing down and turning towards him, “truce?” I ask as I feel somebody quickly slip a ballon in my hand that’s behind my back

“Truce” he says throwing his hands up coming closer slowly, “show me your hands”

I start to grin and quickly throw the water ballon towards him, landing on his chest. But just as fast as I turn to run away, I feel my body being picked up and immediately going into the pool. When we come back to the surface, we’re laughing, splashing water, and pushing each other away playfully.

“Truce?” He asks me holding out his hand

“For now, Yeah” I smile slapping my hand into his

“For now?” He teases

“Never know when I may need to throw another at you” I wink before pulling myself out of the pool, being thankful I did put on a swimsuit under my clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once everything died down and everyone left, it was about 7:30. So, Mrs. Jodi told all of us to go get showers and get ready, that she had everything else handled.

I went to my room to got a quick shower. Blow drying and curling my hair afterwards. I decided on wearing my other pair of blue jean shorts, with a white cropped tank top, and a bluish green button up, with my cowboy boots.

“It’s me!” Mack yells knocking on my door before walking in, wearing some jeans and a strapless cropped tank top, “well you look cute” she says eyeballing me

“So do youuuu, do you think I should lose the boots or wear pants instead?” I ask her

“No, show Austin what them boots make you do, we’re going to the bar we used to always go to, so I know you’ll put those boots to work” she winked and I laughed, shaking my head, putting my other earring in.

“You ready?” She asks

“Yes ma’am” I say grabbing my phone, license, and some cash before following her downstairs where the boys are waiting. Drew was in black jeans, white tank top, and a short sleeve button up, the color very similar to the one I’m wearing.

“Y’all are almost twinning?” Mack laughs pointing it out as we just shrugged it off before piling up into Garrett’s truck. Leaving me in the middle between Drew and Logan.

“You look good” Drew whispers, smiling at me.

“Thanks, you too” I smile

“Chase and Austin are still meeting us there right?” Mack asks Drew

“Yeah, as far as I know” he answers

“Great, cause I can’t wait for all of y’all to see Maddie in this kind of environment. Especially Austin” she says as I look down, feeling Drew’s eyes on me.

Tonight is gonna be interesting..

———————————————————————

Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life

[kentobb]

hiromi higuruma x female secretary (AU).

chapter 06 > chapter 08

chapter 07

The air inside the federal detention center was heavy, the muted hum of fluorescent lights and the faint clatter of footsteps adding to the sterile, oppressive atmosphere. You and Higuruma walked side by side down the long corridor, escorted by a guard. Your heels clicked softly on the floor, but Higuruma’s attention wasn’t on the sound—it was on you.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering longer than he intended. You kept your focus ahead, expression neutral, offering him no indication that you noticed his presence. That irked him more than he cared to admit. His jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. He wanted to say something but held his tongue.

When the guard unlocked the door to the interrogation room, Higuruma stepped inside first, his professional mask slipping back into place. Sukuna was already there, lounging in his chair with his ankles shackled to the floor. He wore an expression that could only be described as amused boredom, his crimson eyes flicking between you and Higuruma as the two of you entered.

Higuruma placed a bag of food and a soda on the table without a word. Sukuna immediately grabbed the soda, cracking it open with enthusiasm. “Ah, you’re spoiling me,” he said, taking a long sip. “Next time, get me the cherry flavor, though. This one’s mid.”

Higuruma ignored him, setting his briefcase down and pulling out a stack of documents. You quietly did the same, pulling out your notepad and pen, ready to record everything.

“Let’s revisit the facts of this case,” Higuruma said, flipping open the top file. His voice was calm and measured, but there was an edge of impatience lurking beneath. “We’ll begin with the charges you’re currently facing. These include—”

“Murder,” Sukuna interrupted with a grin, leaning back in his chair. “Lots of it. What’s the count now? Twenty? Thirty?”

Higuruma didn’t look up, adjusting his glasses. “Forty-seven, including two pending cases.”

“Forty-seven,” Sukuna mused, as if he were hearing the number of an impressive restaurant reservation. “Not bad. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s not higher. I’ve been slacking.”

Higuruma pinched the bridge of his nose briefly but quickly resumed. “You’re also facing charges of extortion, racketeering, conspiracy, obstruction of justice, and arson.”

You suppressed a groan, your pen hovering over your notepad. Higuruma glanced at you briefly, catching the faintest trace of your exasperation. He wanted to share the moment with you, but you didn’t look up. That stung more than Sukuna’s antics.

“Let’s focus,” Higuruma said sharply, turning his attention back to the case files. “Your trial is approaching, and you need a concrete defense.”

“Defense?” Sukuna laughed, loud and unrestrained. “What defense? I don’t need one. I have you.”

Higuruma finally looked up, his irritation barely concealed. “You’re facing life in prison—or worse. If you have any chance of reducing your sentence—”

“I don’t care about the sentence,” Sukuna interrupted, his grin widening. “I just want to know who ratted me out. That’s what I’m paying you for, isn’t it?”

Higuruma sighed, the calm professional demeanor faltering for a brief moment. “That’s not how this works.”

“Then make it work,” Sukuna said, leaning forward, his tone still teasing but with an undercurrent of menace. “I want names.”

Higuruma leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “We’ll revisit that later. For now, we need to establish a narrative for the charges.”

“Narrative?” Sukuna echoed, feigning deep thought. “Those cunts owned me money.”

Higuruma closed his eyes briefly, visibly restraining himself. “This isn’t a joke.”

“It’s not?” Sukuna replied, feigning surprise. He turned his gaze to you, smirking. “What about you, sweetheart? Think I’m funny?”

You didn’t look up from your notepad. “I think you’re wasting everyone’s time,” you said flatly, continuing to write.

“Ouch,” Sukuna said with mock offense. “She’s got a sharp tongue, doesn’t she? Bet you love that, huh, Higuruma?”

Higuruma didn’t dignify the comment with a response, instead flipping to another page in the file. But Sukuna wasn’t finished. He leaned back in his chair, studying the two of you with a predatory grin.

“There’s something here,” Sukuna said, gesturing vaguely between you and Higuruma. “Oh yeah, I feel it. The tension. You two been sneaking around after hours? A little late-night…case work?”

“Enough,” Higuruma said sharply, glaring at him. “Work on your cell block antics, not here.”

Sukuna ignored him, his grin growing wider. “Don’t lie to me. I’m good at spotting chemistry, and this?” He pointed between you and Higuruma. “This is something. She doesn’t even look at you, does she? That’s how you know she’s into you.”

You shook your head, annoyed but refusing to engage. Higuruma’s jaw tightened, and he returned his attention to the files, but Sukuna wasn’t letting up.

“Come on, I’m bored here” Sukuna teased. “Let me help you out. First, tell her she looks cute when she’s mad. Then—”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Higuruma snapped, and you finally look up from your notepad.

Sukuna’s grin didn’t falter. “Not when I’m having this much fun.”

Higuruma sighed deeply, closing the file and glaring at Sukuna. “Are we done here?” he asked, his voice taut with barely restrained frustration.

“Not yet,” Sukuna said, still grinning. “But don’t worry, we’re just getting started.”

As the conversation shifted, Sukuna’s smirk gave way to a more serious expression. He leaned back in his chair, the chain on his cuffs clinking softly. “I need to know where my wife and kid are,” he said, his tone devoid of the usual arrogance.

Higuruma glanced up from the file he was reviewing. “Your family hasn’t been accounted for?” he asked, his tone professional but edged with curiosity.

Sukuna shook his head. “No calls. No visits. My people can’t find them either. It’s not like her to just disappear.”

Higuruma considered this, flipping through the documents in front of him. “Uraume,” he said, reading her name from the file. “Do you believe her absence has anything to do with the charges against you?”

“I don’t think she’s involved,” Sukuna replied, his voice firm. “She wouldn’t do that to me. But something’s wrong. She’d have reached out by now.”

Higuruma nodded, jotting down a note. “If she and your son are missing, it could be a safety concern. Were there any threats made against your family prior to your arrest?”

Sukuna frowned, his gaze darkening. “Plenty. But no one’s stupid enough to touch my family. At least, I thought so.”

The lawyer paused, closing the file momentarily. “If they’re in hiding, that suggests a serious threat. Their absence could also be leveraged as part of your defense, assuming they have relevant information about your activities—or evidence to support your innocence.”

Sukuna let out a humorless chuckle. “You think I’m innocent?”

Higuruma ignored the comment. “Did Uraume or your son mention any concerns before this? Did they seem worried about anything unusual?”

Sukuna shook his head again. “No. Everything seemed fine. Normal.”

Higuruma pressed further, his tone precise. “Are you certain there’s no one in your circle who might have had reason to target them? Any recent conflicts, even subtle ones?”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes, visibly frustrated. “If I knew who was behind this, do you think I’d be sitting here talking to you about it?”

Higuruma jotted something else down before responding. “Your family’s disappearance complicates things. It may raise questions about your involvement in their situation. Alternatively, it could shift the narrative to one where you’re being targeted.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care about the narrative. I want them found.”

Higuruma nodded curtly. “I’ll look into it. But until then, I need you to focus on providing me with as much information as possible. The more I know about your dealings, the better I can anticipate any angles the prosecution might use.”

Sukuna leaned forward slightly, resting his cuffed hands on the table. “You want to know everything, huh?”

Higuruma didn’t flinch. “Everything relevant to the charges. We don’t have time for omissions or theatrics.”

Sukuna smirked, though it lacked his usual confidence. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I need you to remember one thing.”

“What’s that?” Higuruma asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t trust anyone,” Sukuna said, his gaze sharp. “Not even you.”

Higuruma let the comment pass without reaction. “Noted. Now, let’s continue.”

He adjusted his glasses, shifted through the paperwork, and resumed questioning Sukuna about his prior activities and associations. You diligently recorded everything, glancing up only when necessary.

The tension in the room was heavy, but Higuruma maintained his composure, steering the conversation back to the case whenever Sukuna tried to derail it.

The car ride back to the office was tense and quiet, with only the faint sound of the rain tapping against the windows. Higuruma stared out of his side, his thoughts consumed by Sukuna’s case and the unsettling details surrounding his missing family. Beside him, you shifted in your seat, your fingers nervously clutching a folder containing the notes from the earlier meeting.

Breaking the silence, you spoke. “I’ll stay late tonight to update Sukuna’s file with the new information.”

Higuruma glanced at you briefly, nodding. His response was measured, professional. “That would be efficient. We’ll need everything organized before we proceed further.”

You nodded, looking out the window again.

He leaned back in his seat, considering whether he should stay late as well. Sukuna’s comment about wanting to find the rat stuck in his mind, and the absence of Uraume and her son only complicated things further. There were too many loose ends, and he hated loose ends. Perhaps it would be worth making a few calls tonight to dig deeper into possible suspects.

When the driver pulled up to the office, the building was eerily quiet. The usual buzz of activity had faded, leaving only the faint hum of the overhead lights visible through the windows. Everyone had already gone home.

Higuruma stepped out first, opening the door for you. You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before stepping out of the car, your professional demeanor firmly in place. Together, you entered the empty office.

The silence inside was even more noticeable. The absence of chatter, ringing phones, and the sound of keyboards created an almost oppressive stillness.

“I’ll be in my office,” Higuruma said evenly, glancing at you before walking away.

“Of course,” you replied, already heading toward your desk.

From the quiet confines of his office, Higuruma began making calls, his voice calm and professional as he inquired about potential leads. He pressed for information, subtle but direct, his frustration mounting as he hit walls of vague answers and lack of cooperation.

In the brief pauses between calls, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. The weight of Sukuna’s case was palpable, but his mind kept drifting. Not to the complexities of the legal work, but to the sight of you earlier—focused, diligent, completely immersed in your work.

He glanced through the open door of his office and saw you standing by the printer, gathering pages and carefully assembling them into a file. The warm glow of the desk lamp illuminated your features as you flipped through the documents, ensuring everything was in order.

There was something about the way you carried yourself, the quiet determination in your actions, that distracted him. Higuruma found himself lingering on the sight, his mind wandering to thoughts he shouldn’t entertain.

He shook his head, clearing his throat before returning to his work. This wasn’t the time for distractions.

Still, as the night wore on, he couldn’t help but glance toward you every now and then. You moved with such purpose, oblivious to his occasional looks, entirely focused on the task at hand. The quiet tension between you two lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniably present.

The office was silent as you finished organizing the last of Sukuna’s case files. You stapled the final packet of documents, neatly placed them into a folder, and exhaled deeply. The clock on your desk blinked 10:02 PM. A full day of meetings, case reviews, and tense interactions with both Sukuna and Higuruma had drained you. All you wanted now was to go home, shower, and forget the day ever happened.

With the files in hand, you made your way to Higuruma’s office to let him know you were done for the day. His office door was ajar, and you could see him hunched over his desk, reading through more case notes with an intensity that seemed unshakable.

You knocked softly on the doorframe. “Mr. Higuruma?”

His eyes lifted from the papers to meet yours. “Yes?”

“I’ve finished with the documentation,” you said, your tone detached and professional. “Everything is updated and filed. I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing back at him. His eyes flicked to the clock on his desk. He frowned. “It’s past 10 PM,” he said evenly, standing up and grabbing his coat. “I’m not letting you walk home alone at this hour.”

You shook your head, already taking a step toward the door. “I’ll be fine. I’ve done it before.”

“I insist,” he said, his tone cold and final.

There was no point in arguing when he spoke like that. You nodded reluctantly and walked ahead as he gathered his belongings.

The ride home was suffocatingly quiet. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, staring out of the window as the city lights blurred past. Higuruma’s grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles pale against the dark leather. Neither of you spoke, and the tension in the car was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, he pulled up in front of your apartment complex. The car idled as you unbuckled your seatbelt. For a moment, neither of you moved or spoke. The silence hung heavy between you.

You felt his gaze on you and refused to meet it, your eyes fixed stubbornly on the dashboard.

He broke the silence first, his voice low and measured. “I need to say something.”

You still didn’t look at him, but your hand paused on the door handle. “What is it, Mr. Higuruma?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if choosing his words carefully. “I wanted to apologize… for the kiss.”

Your heart skipped for a second, but you kept your expression neutral. You finally turned to face him, your eyes cold and distant. “There’s no need to apologize. It didn’t mean anything. It was just an accident. I understand.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the leather creaking under the pressure. He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “I see.”

You nodded back, feeling an ache in your chest that you didn’t want to examine. “Thank you for the ride, Mr. Higuruma. Have a good weekend.”

You opened the car door and stepped out, the night air cool against your skin. Without looking back, you walked toward your apartment building, your heels clicking against the pavement.

Higuruma stayed parked where he was, his hands still gripping the wheel. He cursed under his breath, leaning back in his seat and staring at the spot where you’d disappeared inside.

The way you had dismissed the kiss, as though it was nothing, gnawed at him. He knew it shouldn’t bother him—it was the professional thing to do. But it did.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered, his voice low and bitter.

The quiet of the car offered no answers.

For a long time, he just sat there, his mind replaying every moment from the kiss to the cold dismissal in your words. He couldn’t explain why it mattered so much to him, but it did.

Eventually, he started the car, pulling away from the curb. As he drove home through the dark city streets, he resolved to push these thoughts aside. Work was the priority. It always had been, and it always would be.

But even as he told himself that, the memory of your cold professionalism and the unspoken tension between you lingered, refusing to be ignored.

[moonsickness-posts]

Shadows in the Library (pathetic yandere tom riddle x reader)

this is kinda trash but i wanted to write pathetic tom riddle so bad so here

TW: stalking, obsession.

The air in the library was thick with the scent of parchment and old leather-bound books, a sanctuary of silence disrupted only by the soft scratching of a quill. She sat hunched over her charms notes, oblivious to the figure concealed in the shadows between the towering shelves.

Tom Riddle had always been a presence, magnetic and cold, with an allure that left students whispering in his wake. Yet, she had somehow managed to avoid the pull of his gravity. Until now.

For weeks, his sharp eyes had tracked her movements her thoughtful pauses, the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her quiet smiles when she thought no one was looking. She was an enigma, one he couldn’t solve and couldn’t ignore.

Tonight, Tom’s patience had worn thin. As the clock struck midnight and the last straggling students exited the library, he remained hidden, watching her. The librarian had locked the doors moments before, trapping them alone in the vast, dimly lit room.

“You.” His voice broke the stillness, smooth as silk but laced with an edge of desperation.

She startled, her quill clattering to the desk. Turning toward the voice, her breath hitched as she saw him step from the shadows. His expression was intense, his dark eyes fixed solely on her.

“Riddle,” she said, her voice unsteady. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” he murmured, advancing toward her. The dim candlelight cast sharp shadows across his angular features, making him appear almost otherworldly.

“I was studying,” she replied, her tone cautious. “What do you want?”

Tom hesitated, his mask of calm cracking just enough to reveal a glimpse of something raw beneath. “You,” he said simply. “I want you to see me. To feel what I feel. Every moment I spend away from you is-”

“Stop.” She stood, her chair scraping against the stone floor. “What are you talking about? You don’t even know me.”

His lips curved into a bitter smile. “Don’t I? I’ve spent months learning everything about you. The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking, the books you borrow, the way you laugh when you think no one’s listening.” His voice dropped, a whisper that sent a chill down her spine. “You consume me.”

Her pulse raced, and she took a step back, only for him to close the distance between them in a flash, caging her against the desk. His hands gripped the edge on either side of her, his face inches from hers.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice breaking with an unfamiliar vulnerability. “Don’t push me away. Tell me you feel it too.”

Her mind raced, her emotions a chaotic storm. She’d never seen Tom Riddle like this unhinged, desperate, almost... human. But beneath the veneer of emotion, there was a darkness, a possessiveness that made her shudder.

“I... I need to go,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

His grip on the desk tightened, and for a moment, his gaze faltered. “No. Don’t leave. Not yet. Please.” His tone cracked on the last word, the smooth control he so often wielded slipping away like water through his fingers. “You don’t understand I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried. I’ve tried. You’ve... changed me.” He laughed bitterly, the sound low and hollow. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore. You have no idea how much power you hold over me, how you’ve consumed every thought, every plan. You’re in my dreams, in my mind every waking moment. And I-” He paused, drawing a shaky breath, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t bear it if you walk away.”

There was a flicker of something raw in his expression pleading, almost pitiful. He reached out, his fingers hovering just short of her wrist as though he feared even the smallest rejection would break him completely. “Just... stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I have to do to make you care for me, even a little.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She didn’t know whether to pity him or fear him, whether to run or stay frozen in the moment.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

May I request CG!Angel with a newborn reader who is struggling to get them down for a nap? He tries everything but they just won’t settle.

I cannot thank you enough for your patience on this. I hope you enjoy! And I promise y’all requests will start coming out a lot faster now!

Pairing: Caregiver!Angel & Little!reader

Title: Soft Spider, Sleepy Baby

Description: Angel has tried everything in the book, but his Little just won’t take their long overdue nap. He hates feeling so helpless, but maybe he’s better at this than he thinks.

Word count: 921

Soft Spider, Sleepy Baby

Putting a newborn regressor down for a nap will be the easiest thing I’ve ever done! Angel had once thought.  Emphasis on once, because from the very first time he ever put you, his precious little one, down to sleep, he realized just how difficult it could actually be.

No matter how many routines he tried, nothing would consistently work.  Lullabies, rocking chairs, bottles, being held—nothing!  It was as if Hell had found another way to play a cruel joke on him.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy taking care of his little one.  They were genuinely the sweetest, greatest thing that had happened to him, really!  He was a great Caregiver too!  But when nap time came around, when they were exhausted but unable to sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder what on earth he was doing wrong.

Hence how he found himself in his current predicament.

By now it was late afternoon; Hell’s scarlet Sun had begun to set, casting mahogany glows through the windows, enveloping the tiny nursery he had set up for you in the Hazbin Hotel.  The bottle on his dresser sat empty, but your soft, sleepless whines seemed to mock him; the warm milk hadn’t eased the Little to sleep.  Since it had been finished an hour ago, Angel had been attempting soothing motions in the rocking chair.  He had tried pacifiers numerous times too, but all three had been miserably thrown across the room in a surprising show of protest that was consistently followed by crying.

“It’s okay, baby, shhhhh,” Angel hummed, rubbing his soft finger over his baby’s cheek.  His patience was nowhere near gone, rather, hopelessness was beginning to creep in.

What am I doing wrong? Why won’t they take their nap? he thought nervously.  Yes, they commonly fought sleep, but when they were so clearly exhausted?  Is it my fault?

Sighing, Angel adjusted his grip on the Little, carefully gathering them into his four arms.  He muttered soft reassurances as he rose out of the rocking chair, officially giving up on that method.  Instead, he shifted his weight between his feet, a different soothing, almost swinging motion.  His Little whined as he moved, frustrated coos still arguing against their imposed bedtime.

Music?  No, he had tried that.

A calm movie? historically that made things worse.

A walk?…

Well it couldn’t hurt to try.  They didn’t even need to leave the Hotel; just wandering around the many corridors and enjoying a change of scenery might help.  And trying something new was certainly better than doing something unproductive again and again.

So, he hitched you in his arms again and made for the door, carefully sidestepping all the stuffed animals that had been strewn across the playroom floor.  The cries had not slowed, miserably whines pressed into his furry chest that made his heart ache.

As he emerged into the empty hallway, the sunset light met candelabras glow.  The muted lighting was relaxing, the silence surrounding them even more so.  Taking a deep breath, Angel began slowly ambling down the hall.

Maybe Charlie will have some ideas, he thought solemnly as his feet carried him and his baby towards the Hazbin Hotel’s foyer.  He had done everything he could possibly think of, and his Little was about as close to sleep as he was to redemption!

“I’m sorry, toots,” he muttered as the baby huffed quietly in his arms.  “I know you’re tired, and we’ll get you to sleep soon, I promise.”

Soon, they arrived in the lobby.  Like the rest of the Hotel, it was fairly quiet.  Husk silently moped as he manned the bar, Alastor and Niffty were nowhere in sight, and Charlie laid across the couch with a sketchbook in hand, hummin cheerfully to herself.  He approached her, utterly defeated.

“Hey, Charlie,” Angel greeted, his New York accent as heavy as his tone.

“Oh, Hi, Angel! Aw, is it someone’s nap time?” the princess gushed, smiling widely at the bundle in his arms.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted your help with,” Angel sighed.  “No matter what I do, they just won’t settle.  And I’ve tried everything!  Do you have any ideas?  Any at all?”

Charlie’s head quirked to the side, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she processed his words.  “But, they’re already asleep, Angel?” she remarked, confused.

Angel’s eyes widened slightly, he himself surprised by the assessment, and he tipped his head downward to see for himself.  Indeed, they had gone completely limp in his arms, chest heaving soft and slow breaths.  Their thumb had found their parted lips, eyes had fluttered shut.  They really were asleep!

“Since when?” he exclaimed in a whisper.  “I’ve been trying to get them to sleep for an hour; music, bottles, pacifiers, stuffies!  And the moment I walk downstairs, they finally give in?”

“Maybe you were doubting yourself a little too much,” Charlie suggested thoughtfully.  “They didn’t want toys or blankets.  They just wanted you.”

Angel stood there for a long moment, expression blank as he processed what that meant.  Was Charlie right?  Maybe all the comfort items in the world wouldn’t do a thing if he didn’t hold them this close?

Glancing down at his Little’s relaxed expression, all traces fo distress disappeared from their face, he slowly accepted that answer.

“I guess so,” he huffed a small grin.  “I’m glad they finally fell asleep.  I can’t stand seeing them so miserable and worn out.”

“And now they’ll have plenty of energy for later,” Charlie chirped.

“Oh, yeah, they will.”

[cool-fancier]

Threads of Love

Jennie Kim x Fem Reader

Synopsis: When Jennie Kim, a famous fashion director, invites her doctor wife to model for her magazine, love, vulnerability, and dazzling couture redefine their beautiful bond.

Word count:1.4K

Thank you so much for requesting and I hope I did good :)

The rain fell softly over Paris, the gentle tapping against the windows muffling the city’s usual hum. You stepped through the door of your shared apartment, utterly drained after your shift at the hospital. It had been one of those days—a string of emergencies, endless paperwork, and the persistent ache of being on your feet too long. All you wanted was to see Jennie and let the warmth of her presence wash away the chaos.

Before you could even shrug off your coat, Kuma came bounding toward you, his fluffy tail wagging furiously. His tiny paws scrambled on the hardwood floor as he skidded to a stop in front of you, barking his usual enthusiastic greeting.

“Kuma!” you exclaimed, crouching down to scoop him up. He licked your face eagerly, making you laugh despite your exhaustion. “I missed you too, buddy. Were you good for Mom today?”

Jennie’s voice floated from the living room, warm and teasing. “He was perfect. But I’m not sure about you, running off and leaving us alone for fourteen hours.”

You straightened, still holding Kuma, and turned toward her. She was leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed and her head tilted slightly. She wore an oversized hoodie—yours, of course—and her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. The soft light of the candles she always insisted on having lit cast a warm glow over her, making her look effortlessly beautiful.

“You’re right,” you said with a grin, walking toward her. “How could I leave my two favorite people for so long?”

“Good question,” Jennie murmured, stepping closer. Her eyes flicked to Kuma. “Okay, Kuma, let Mom have her turn.”

Kuma wiggled out of your arms and padded off, content to find a spot on the couch, leaving you alone with Jennie.

Before you could say anything, Jennie wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft and lingering, her lips brushing against yours in a way that melted the tension from your shoulders.

“Better?” she asked, her voice a quiet murmur against your cheek.

“Much,” you replied, your hands resting on her hips.

She studied you for a moment, her fingers idly brushing against the fabric of your shirt. “Rough day?”

“Long,” you admitted. “But it’s over now.”

“Good,” Jennie said, tugging at your hand as she led you to the couch. “Come on. Sit down and let me spoil you a little.”

— — — — —

The two of you settled into the couch, Kuma hopping up to curl between you. Jennie pulled a blanket over your lap, tucking it in with care before leaning back against you. Her fingers lazily traced patterns on your arm as the steady rhythm of rain filled the silence.

After a while, she tilted her head up to look at you. “I was thinking about something today,” she said, her voice casual but tinged with anticipation.

“Hmm?” you hummed, your eyes half-closed.

Jennie shifted so she was sitting up, tucking one leg beneath her as she turned to face you. “You know how I’ve been working on the next big issue for Haute Lumière?”

“The one that’s been keeping you up until three in the morning every night?” you teased, opening one eye.

Jennie smiled, nudging your arm lightly. “Yes, that one. Well, I’ve finally figured out the theme.”

“What’s it about?”

“Redefining beauty,” Jennie said, her voice softening. “It’s about showcasing strength and authenticity—real stories that break out of the narrow, polished molds the fashion industry usually celebrates. I want it to feel… human.”

You smiled, nodding. “That sounds incredible. Very you.”

“Thanks,” she said, her hand brushing against yours. “But there’s just one thing missing.”

“What’s that?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

Jennie hesitated, her lips parting as if she wasn’t sure how to begin. Finally, she took a deep breath. “You.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

“I want you to be the centerpiece of the issue,” she said, her voice gaining strength with each word. “You’re everything this theme is about. You’re strong, compassionate, beautiful. You save lives every day, and then you come home to me and make my world brighter just by being in it. That’s what I want people to see.”

You stared at her, momentarily speechless. “Jennie, I don’t think—”

“You’re going to say you’re not a model,” Jennie interrupted gently, her hand covering yours. “But you don’t have to be. I don’t want you to be anyone else. I just want you to be you.”

Her eyes searched yours, a mix of vulnerability and determination. You could tell this wasn’t just another idea to her—it was personal.

“You’re serious about this?” you asked quietly.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything,” she said, squeezing your hand. “But I don’t want to pressure you. Just think about it, okay?”

You exhaled slowly, the corners of your mouth twitching into a faint smile. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Jennie’s face lit up, and she leaned forward to kiss you, her lips lingering against yours. “That’s all I need.”

— — — — —

A few days later, Jennie brought you to Haute Lumière’s main studio. The space was massive, its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows flooding the room with light. Everywhere you looked, there was movement—stylists adjusting racks of couture gowns, assistants setting up lighting rigs, and photographers buzzing about with cameras slung over their shoulders.

“Wow,” you murmured as you stepped inside, taking it all in.

Jennie grinned beside you, slipping her hand into yours. “Impressive, huh?”

“Definitely a little intimidating,” you admitted, glancing around at the flurry of activity.

“Don’t worry,” Jennie said, squeezing your hand. “You’ll get used to it.”

As she led you through the space, she stopped to introduce you to her team.

“This is my wife,” Jennie said to every person you met, her voice brimming with pride. “She’s a doctor. Isn’t that incredible?”

You blushed under the attention, but Jennie didn’t seem to notice—or, more likely, she didn’t care. She was too busy singing your praises to anyone who would listen.

Eventually, she brought you to a rack of gowns. “This one,” she said, pulling out a dress with intricate beading and shimmering fabric. “I’ve been saving it for you.”

You eyed it skeptically. “Jennie, when have you ever seen me wear anything like that?”

“That’s exactly the point,” she said, holding it up in front of you. “It’s bold, it’s elegant, and it’s you. Trust me.”

You met her gaze, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement making your hesitation falter. “Okay,” you said finally. “I trust you.”

Jennie’s smile widened, and she leaned in to kiss your cheek. “You’re going to be amazing.”

— — — — —

The day of the shoot arrived, and despite your nerves, Jennie was a constant source of reassurance. She hovered near you as the stylists worked, offering words of encouragement and stealing kisses when she thought no one was looking.

“You’re doing amazing,” she said as the makeup artist applied the finishing touches.

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” you replied, your voice tinged with nervous laughter.

Jennie crouched beside you, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

When you stepped in front of the camera, Jennie positioned herself just behind the photographer, her hands clasped together like a proud parent.

“Yes! That’s perfect!” the photographer called as you struck a pose.

“That’s my wife!” Jennie cheered, clapping her hands.

“Jennie, stop,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

During a break, Jennie pulled out her phone and leaned over the photographer’s shoulder. “Want to see her at her absolute best?” she asked, scrolling through her camera roll. “This is from our wedding.”

The photographer chuckled, glancing at the screen. “You two are adorable.”

“She’s the love of my life,” Jennie said, her voice soft but certain.

— — — — —

That night, back at home, you lay curled up on the couch with Jennie and Kuma. The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the windows as Jennie scrolled through the photos on her tablet.

“You were incredible,” she said, resting her head on your shoulder.

“I had a pretty great cheerleader,” you replied, kissing the top of her head.

Jennie smiled, intertwining her fingers with yours. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always,” you murmured.

And in that moment, with Kuma snuggled between you and Jennie’s hand in yours, the world felt perfect.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 4 - To Sleep In Your Arms

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“Woah,” Genevieve remarks, taking her seat on the other side of Ridoc, after nearly sitting down right next to Violet who didn’t even bother glaring at her. Just ignored her. “How have I never seen this room before?”

“We’ve never been second-years before,” Rhiannon replies from Violet’s other side, her supplies perfectly aligned on her desk. It’s T-minus one day until Conscription Day, and the last week has been spent learning roles and drinking entirely too much alcohol. 

Genevieve woke up on the morning that Xaden left and decided that life was not for her. And now she couldn’t sleep—whether it was from the lack of Xaden or the practically constant migraines, or the nightmares from watching the life drain from her best friend’s eyes, she couldn’t tell. Nor did she really care. 

“Good point.” Ridoc nods. 

“Made it!” Nadine slides in next to Genevieve, shoving errant strands of her purple hair out of her face with a braced and wrapped hand. “How have I never been in this room before?” 

Rhiannon sighs. 

“We’ve never been second years before,” Violet fills in. 

“Right. Makes sense.” She grabs her things out of her bag, and then drops it at her feet. “I guess none of our classes were this far down the hallway last year.” 

“What happened to your hand?” Genevieve asks, eyeing the brace that Nadine has on her arm. 

“It’s embarrassing.” She lifts the brace so the rest of the table can see it. “I slipped and sprained it on the steps last night. Don’t worry, the healers think Nolon might have an opening for me tomorrow before Parapet. He’s been run ragged since War Games.” 

“I’ve been trying to get in with him for days now,” Genevieve sighs. “Whatever is making my hair black is still messing with my head.” 

“That man needs a break,” Rhiannon says, bobbing her head. 

“I wish we had a break like the other quadrants.” Ridoc taps his pen on the desk. “Even five or six days to just get away.” 

“I’m still recovering from the last six-day break I had away from here,” Violet tries to joke, and Genevieve watches as the entire squad’s faces fall. Oh Violet. You’re so smart but so stupid. 

“I’m around if you want to talk.” Rhiannon’s kind smile makes Genevieve’s heart die a little. Violet can’t talk, and she won’t talk to her, so they both left to fester in their emotions. 

And if Violet talks and ends up getting Genevieve imprisoned, she better pray that Genevieve never gets released. 

“Good afternoon, second-years,” A tall rider says, his voice booming as he strides to the center of the floor, quieting the room. “I am Captain”—he winces, scratching the trim beard that’s a shade darker than his light golden skin—“Professor Grady. And, as you can tell, I’m new this year and getting used to the whole professor title, as well as being around twenty-one year old kids again. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the quadrant.” 

He turns toward the end of the classroom—the one section where there are no seats—and crooks his fingers at the heavy wooden desk there. Lesser magic makes it scratch across the floor until Professor Grady puts his palm out. Then it stops. He turns back towards them and leans back against the edge of the desk. 

“That’s better. Congratulations on living through your first year.” He turns his head slowly, his gaze raking over each of them. “There are eighty-nine of you in this room. From what the scribes tell me, you are the smallest class to walk this hall since the First Six.” 

Genevieve glances at the empty seats, before glancing at Violet. 

“Fewer dragons are bonding.” She says to Tairn. “That’s because the Empyrean knows about the venin?” 

“Yes.” She can almost hear the exasperated sigh in Tairn’s voice. 

“Don’t we need more riders? Not fewer.” It doesn’t make sense to her. 

“The Empyrean remains divided on whether or not we should get involved,” Train grumbles. “Humans aren’t the only ones keeping secrets.” 

Genevieve huffs quietly under her breath. 

“...But the second year brings its own challenges,” Professor Grady continues as Genevieve reigns in her focus. “Last year, you learned how to ride the dragons who chose you. This year, you’ll learn what to do if you fall off. Welcome to Rider Survival Course, or RSC for short.” 

“What the hell is that?” Ridoc asks Violet, and Genevieve shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” Violet whispers back, writing the title on her empty page. 

“But you know everything.” His eyes widen. 

“Clearly not.” 

“Don’t know what it is?” Professor Grady asks with a grin, staring straight at Ridoc. “Good—our tactics work.” He crosses one boot in front of the other. “RSC is kept classified for a reason, so we get your genuine reactions to the situations at hand.” 

“No one wants my genuine reactions,” Ridoc murmurs, and Genevieve rubs his arm, murmuring a sarcastic ‘there, there.’ 

“RSC will teach you how to survive if you become separated from your dragon behind enemy lines. It’s a staple of your second year, culminating in two full evaluations you must pass in order to continue at Basgiath—one in a few weeks… and the other around mid-year.”

“What the hell do they do with a bonded rider who doesn’t pass?” Rhiannon asks quietly. 

Every member of the squad looks at Violet expectantly. 

“I have no clue.” 

Caroline Ashton raises her hand from her seat in First Wing across the room. 

“Yes?” Professor Grady asks. 

“What precisely does ‘around mid-year’ mean?” Caroline asks. “Or ‘in a few weeks’?”

“You won’t know until the precise date,” He answers, lifting his brows. She huffs, sitting back in her seat. “And I won’t tell you, no matter how many times you roll your eyes. No professor wil because quite simply—we want you surprised. But we do want you to be prepared. In this room, I will instruct you in navigation, survival techniques, and how to withstand interrogation in case of capture.” 

Holy shit. This is not something Genevieve was expecting, but it's definitely a class she can pass with flying colors. 

“And you’ll face trials on those at any time,” Professor Grady continues, “taken from any place in the quadrant.” 

The entire squad now turns to look at Genevieve. 

“What?” 

“Well, Violet’s not exactly the expert at withstanding torture.” Sawyer mutters. 

Genevieve just shrugged, turning her head away from the eyes of her squadmates who definitely were turning to her for answers on something she wanted nothing more than to forget. 

“I’m well aware that some of you have already had… let’s call them ‘unofficial lessons’ in survival,” he says, eyes lingering on Genevieve for a second too long for her comfort. “And this class will be made that much harder for you. The other assessors and I will give you all feedback during those trials, so by the time your full evaluations come around, you’ll be able to withstand—” he cocks his head to the side as if choosing his words carefully. “Well, be able to withstand the hell we’re going to put you through. Take it from someone who has survived it: as long as you don’t break during the interrogation portion, you’ll do just fine.” 

Rhiannon puts her hand up, and Professor Grady nods at her. 

“And if we break?” She asks. 

All traces of amusement leave his face.

“You can ask that friend of yours what happens.” 

Fuck. 

—-------------------------------------

The training gym feels emptier than usual, the absence of familiar faces hanging heavily in the air. Genevieve lets out a quiet sigh as she glances around, noting the empty spaces that used to be filled. 

“It’s so empty now,” she murmurs, half to herself. 

Bodhi snorts beside her, crossing his arms. “No shit, Garrick and Xaden graduated.” And Liam and Soleil died, but the two of them don’t address that as Genevieve’s eyes sweep the gym, taking in the faces that have grown familiar to her. 

Her eyes linger on the empty spaces, on the places where her friends and allies used to train and laugh. She traces her gaze over the gym’s worn wooden floors and mats, past the weapon racks, and up to the high windows that let in slats of late afternoon sunlight. It’s so quiet with the third years gone and the lack of new first years. 

“Are you going to be training with me now, or am I on my own?” Genevieve asked, setting her lambskin on the bench next to the mat she and Xaden had claimed as theirs last February. It feels odd to be here without him, and though she knows it’s silly, she can’t shake the feeling of something changed. Something missing. 

“It’s up to you,” Bodhi shrugged. “I don’t want to fill any rolls you don’t want to be filled.” His eyes linger a second too long on the spot on the bench where Xaden used to set down his towel, but he doesn’t dwell in it for too long, instead he turns back to Genevieve. 

She doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s spar,” she says, standing up straighter. Despite the heaviness in the air, there’s something about the rhythm of the fight, the quickness of movement, that helps clear her mind. It allows her to push aside the weight of missing everyone who is gone, whether it be a permanent or temporary absence. 

Bodhi raises an eyebrow at her eagerness, a smirk playing on his lips. “Think you can keep up without having Xaden here to impress?” 

Genevieve rolls her eyes, the mention of his drawing an exasperated groan. “I think I’ll survive, thanks.” She lets herself fall into a fighting stance, shaking off the lingering feeling of emptiness. “But don’t think I’m going easy on you, Bodhi.” 

“Oh, wouldn't dream of it.” He gives her a mischievous grin before dropping into his own stance, his posture loose but alert. For a moment, the two simply circle each other, testing, waiting for the other to make the first move. 

Finally, Genevieve feints left before swinging a high kick towards his shoulder. Bodhi dodges with a speed that reminds her he’s just as skilled as she is, if not better. The next few minutes are a whirlwind of blocks, strikes, and footwork as they spar, the familiar rhythm of hand-to-hand combat slowly pulling her back to herself. For the first time since Resson, she feels normal. 

Except for her everlasting migraine, and this weird onslaught of joint pain. 

As she goes to block Bodhi’s punch, her hand catches his wrist at an odd angle, and without thinking, she tightens her grip. Suddenly, a strange, uncomfortable sensation twinges through her knuckles, and when she pulls back, her middle finger bends all the way back, almost flat against her hand. 

Both of them freeze. 

Bodhi’s eyes go wide. “Genevieve, what the—your finger!”

She stares at her hand, a mix of horror and fascination crossing her face as she tries to wingle her finger back into place. “Oh my gods,” she breathes, eyes darting to Bodhi. “What did you do?!”

“What did I do?” he exclaims, backing up, face ridden with shock. “You did that yourself! How is it even—no one’s finger should—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Genevieve says quickly, but she can’t hide her own nervous laughter as she wiggles her hand, and the finger finally pops back into place. “See? All better.” She glances up at Bodhi, hoping to reassure him, but she can’t help but laugh at his horrified expression. 

“Genevieve, that is not fine,” he says, looking at her like she’s just sprouted a second head. “People’s fingers don’t just bend like that. Are you ok?” 

“I mean, maybe it’s some new… flexibility thing?” She shrugs, trying to brush it off, but even she feels a little unsettled. This isn’t the first time she’s noticed strange things happening with her joints lately. Just yesterday her knee had slipped for a moment during a run, and then popped back like nothing was wrong. But she hadn’t thought much of it. Not until now, anyway. 

Bodhi seems to read the concern in her face, his own expression softening. “You sure you want to spar?” he asks, his tone a little gentler. She may have forgotten that she was pretty much dead not even two weeks ago, but he certainly has not. 

She waves him off. “Please. I’m not going to let a hyper-flexible finger ruin a good spar.” And, determined to prove it, she goes for another strike. 

The fight resumes, but now there’s an unspoken lightness between them, like the weird moment with her finger has broken some of the tension hanging in the air. They exchange jabs and footwork, throwing each other off balance, and she catches herself laughing at his exaggerated expression every time she lands a hit. 

At one point, Bodhi fakes a blow, and she twists her body to dodge—but she over-rotates, her good shoulder over extending just a little too far. She feels the joint slide unnaturally before it snaps back in place. The sensation is strange, almost painless, but unsettling. Her eyes widen, and she tries to hide it, but Bodhi catches her reaction. 

“Genevieve,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at her. “That was your good shoulder, and that was not normal.” 

She rolls her shoulder experimentally, feeling it settle. “It didn’t hurt,” she insists, though she knows he’s right. 

“It didn’t hurt because in comparison to your other shoulder, that was like a slap on the wrist.” Bodhi crosses his arms, giving her a look that’s equal parts exasperated and worried. “That’s the problem, Genevieve. I mean, come one, fingers, shoulders—how long has this been going on?” 

She hesitates, shrugging her good shoulder that now feels completely fine, pressing a finger into her bad shoulder to ease the ache. “Since you-know-what, but it’s probably nothing. Just a weird quirk.” She tries to laugh it off, but his concern is contagious. 

“And you didn’t think to tell Xaden?” Bodhi gives her a pointed look. 

“There’s a lot of things Xaden didn’t bother to tell me,” She huffs, walking off the mat to the bench and easing herself down, rubbing her temples with a sigh. “Like the whole ‘torture class’ thing. I really could have used a warning on that.” 

Bodhi winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… sorry about that. He definitely should’ve given you a heads-up, considering, you know… it’s you.” 

Genevieve gives him a flat look. “Yeah, he should have. Especially considering I’m probably going to be captured and tortured again in the next year without warning. Again.” Her voice dips with a sharp edge as the last word escapes her, and she quickly looks away trying to swallow the wave of anxiety that comes with saying it out loud. The memory of that helplessness, the pain, the dark, all flashes back to her like a half-realized nightmare. 

Bodhi sits beside her, and they watch the others in the gym spar with each other. Cianna and Imogen are at each other's throats on the back mat and it's a comfortingly familiar scene. “Look, I know you’re trying to brush it off, but it’s a lot to deal with. And I’m not saying I have any great advice to offer, but…” he hesitates, searching her face. “You don’t have to act like the prospect of being tortured again doesn’t mess with you. If you’re feeling it—feeling weird or… breaking a little—that’s normal.” 

She snorts, but there’s no humor in it. “Normal.” She drags a hand through her hair, staring at the floor, and Bodhi recognizes the action as a habit Genevieve has picked up from his cousin. “I wouldn’t really consider being captured and tortured once and then threatened with it again normal. I’m not normal.” Her voice is softer now, and for a moment, her guard slips. Bodhi and Genevieve have only seriously talked a few times, but this was revealing a rawness he’s barely seen. 

He gave her a gentle nudge. “We’ll figure it out. Besides, you’re way too stubborn to let this get the best of you.” he smirks. “Weird fingers and all.” 

“Aren’t you going to tell me I should tell Xaden?” She prompts, looking at him with quizzical eyes. 

“I’m not Liam,” he shrugs. “You two do whatever the fuck you want to do in that relationship.” 

She glares at him. “What if I punch you.” 

Bodhi raises his hands in surrender, a laugh bubbling up despite the lingering tension in the air. “Please don’t. I’m already afraid of what your freakishly bendy body might do to me.” 

Genevieve rolls her eyes, but there’s a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Noted. Guess I’ll just save my weirdness for the next time Xaden decides to drop in unannounced.” 

“Oh, please,” Bodhi scoffs, sitting down on the floor in front of her. “We both know he’ll take one look at you, notice you’re the tiniest bit out of sync, and start poking around with that weird ‘I know everything about Genevieve and I’m here to save the day’ routine.” He puts on a mock-serious face and deepens his voice, imitating Xaden’s stoic tone. “Gen, why didn’t you tell me you’re practically falling apart?” 

Genevieve can’t help but laugh, her giggles breaking up the last remnants of heavy air between them. “Yeah, he would say something like that. But let’s keep this whole joint-bending thing between us. Last thing I need is him trying to wrap me in bubble wrap.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bodhi mimics zipping his lips, his smile fading slightly as he looks at her more seriously. “But really, Genevieve. If things get worse… you know you’ve got people here who care about you, right?” 

The humor slips from her face as she nods, feeling a weight in his words. It’s strange to think that after all the betrayal and loss, she still has people by her side. People who see her and accept her for who she is—weird issues and all. 

“Thanks, Bodhi.” She offers a small, genuine smile before glancing down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if testing her body’s resilience. “It’s just… everything feels like it’s shifting. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I’ll be fine. I always am.” 

Bodhi nods, but his gaze lingers a bit longer, searching her face as if he’s trying to read her. “Yeah, you will. And if you’re not? I’ll be here to give you hell about it.” He smirks, the levity easing the heaviness in the air. 

With a final nod, they rise from their seated positions and return to the mat, the strange moment behind them but not forgotten. Genevieve takes a deep breath, grounding herself as she settles into another fighting stance. The familiarity of training helps her focus, her mind clearing as she prepares for whatever’s coming next—whether that’s another fight, another test, or another strange twist in her own abilities. 

—————————————

Whoever was knocking on Genevieve’s door at midnight was really lucky she was struggling with insomnia, because otherwise she would have ignored the awful pounding on her door. 

But she couldn’t sleep, and that left one option; open the door. 

Genevieve groaned as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, not bothering to grab her slippers. Whoever was at her door at this hour was going to have a piece of her mind. The persistent knocking grew louder, more insistent, like a heartbeat, until she finally yanked open the door.

She barely had time to process who it was before a flash of messy brown and silver hair and a blanket-wrapped figure bustled into her room. Violet. 

“Violet—what are you—?” Genevieve managed, only to be cut off by Violet’s brisk, no-nonsense tone. 

“I can’t sleep. You can’t sleep. We both need a warm body to cuddle. I’m here. End of story.” Violet declared, already shuffling towards the bed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Genevieve blinked. “You know, you could’ve asked before you barged in like this.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Violet waved a hand dismissively, plopping herself down on Genevieve’s bed with an exaggerated sigh. “We’re not doing the ‘are you okay’ conversation, either. We both know we’re not. Liam is dead, Xaden’s in Samara, and I don’t want to confront the fact that I don’t actually hate you as much as I want to.”

The ache in Genevieve’s chest flared painfully at the reminder of Liam. She hadn’t let herself dwell on it too much, especially since she was still trying to untangle her own feelings about Xaden’s absence. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been longing for his presence, his quiet reassurance—even if he was frustratingly distant most of the time. 

But with Violet curled up in her bed, hair spilling over her pillow and a weary softness in her eyes, the loneliness felt… a little less sharp. 

“Fine,” Genevieve muttered, slipping under the blankets next to her ex-best friend, the warmth between them a strange comfort. They lay in silence, both wide awake, both desperately trying to pretend the other was a missing lover. 

Eventually, Violet’s whisper broke the silence. “Liam was so proud of you, you know.” her voice was barely more than a breath on the wind, but it suffocated Genevieve as if it was a noose tightening. 

Genevieve’s throat tightened. She wanted to respond, to tell Violet that she knew that, she could feel the weight of his pride every time she thought of him, everytime she remembered his smile, his laugh. But words failed her, and all she could do was squeeze Violet’s hand. 

“Do you think… he’d be okay with how much this hurts?” Violet asked softly, her voice cracking. 

Genevieve swallowed, her own voice barely holding. “I know he’d want you to live. To find a way to be happy again. But yeah… it’s going to hurt for a long time.” 

Violet nodded, her grip tightening around Genevieve’s hand. They fell into a silence filled with unspoken memories. 

Then, Violet’s voice broke the silence again, softer this time, fragile. “Sometimes I wish I could hate you, Genevieve.” Her eyes glistened as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, as if looking at Genevieve would shatter what little control she had. “I want to. I really, really want to hate you for not saving him. You have all that power, and you’re the reason he went out there in the first place. You’re his best friend. He was…” her voice wavered, words dissolving into a sob she tried to stifle. 

Geneveive felt every syllable like a hammer to her chest. She knew Violet wasn’t looking for reassurances or empty apologies. She just wanted someone to understand, to feel the suffocating grief that was threatening to consume her. And she needed Genevieve, if only to share the unbearable weight of Liam’s loss. 

“Violet, if I could have…” she started, her voice barely more than a rasp. 

“I don’t want your apologies,” Violet hissed, pain and anger mingling in her voice. “I know it’s unfair. I know it’s not… I know it’s not logical. It’s just—I can’t stop wondering, over and over, what if you had just been a little bit faster? Or stronger? What if you’d been able to save him?” She choked, wiping furiously at her tears, even as fresh ones slid down her cheeks. “I know you didn’t mean for it to happen. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone. That he’s never coming back. And sometimes… sometimes I hate myself for still caring about you.” she lets out a bitter laugh, eyes planted on the hard ceiling. “It’d be easier if I could just blame you and walk away.”

Genevieve didn’t dare move. She could only stare, helpless, as Violet’s shoulders shook with the force of her emotions. Her heart broke for her, for Liam, for the friendship they used to share and for everything that had shattered between them. 

“He was… he was everything to me, Genevieve. My home, my heart. I loved him so much it hurt, and now i don’t even know what to do with myself. Every time I close my eyes, I see him laughing, like he always did, and when I wake up in the morning, for a second I forget he’s gone and I turn over in my bed expecting to see him there… and then I remember and it’s like he’s died all over again.” Her voice cracked as she buried her face in her hands. 

Genevieve felt the quilt settle, sharp and heavy, an ache that throbbed with every word. She wanted to tell Violet she’d done everything she could, that she’d fought until her body was broken, that she’d tried so hard he had to beg her to leave. But how could any of that matter when Violet’s grief was this raw, this visceral, and she had caused it?

“Violet, if I could have—” Genevieve’s voice cracked, and she had to pause, her own eyes stinging. “I would have traded my life for his. In a heartbeat.” 

Violet laughed bitterly, and the sound broke something inside Genevieve. “But you didn’t. And that’s what kills me. Because every time I look at you, I see the person who walked away. And I feel so guilty for even thinking that, because you’re my best friend, but…” her voice faltered, and she pressed her hands harder onto her face as if the pressure would halt the tears. “I miss him so much it’s like… it’s like I’m losing pieces of myself. And all I want is for him to be here. Just to hold him. Just to see his smile light up the room.”

Genevieve’s chest felt hollow, the flood of Violet’s pain filling every empty corner. She took a shuddering breath, knowing there was nothing she could say to take this agony away. But she wasn’t going to keep on arguing with Violet any longer, she had to make her understand. 

“Violet,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “I didn’t walk away because I wanted to live instead of him.” She could barely get the words out, each one scraping against the raw edges of her own guilt. “I only left because he begged me to. Because we watched as you fell from your dragon’s back and he made me promise I’d go to you, to save you. He knew he wasn’t going to make it, and all he cared about was making sure you’d survive. He made me leave, Violet. He begged me to save you.” 

Silence settled over them like a suffocating blanket. Violet’s breath hitched, her eyes wide, blinking as though trying to process words that didn’t make sense. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her face was pale, a storm of emotions flashing across it—shock, confusion, disbelief, anger, love. 

In that silence, Genevieve just sat still and prayed for any god to hear her pleas. She watched Violet, waiting, hoping for some sign of forgiveness, of understanding. But Violet just laid straight on her back, stunned, her face unreadable, and the emptiness of that unforgiven silence wrapped around Genevieve like a vise. 

Desperation clawed at her, tearing her apart from the inside out. She’d laid everything bare, the last shred of truth she had, and yet… there was nothing. No response, no tears, no comfort, just that blank, stunned silence. She felt her throat tighten, a strangled sob clawing its way up, but she tried to force it down. 

But the silence stretched on, and the longer it did, the more the shame and guilt twisted inside her. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over. She’d only cried once since Resson, only in the immediate moments after she woke up in Aretia, and she’d been holding all of her other emotions at bay since then. But now, in the face of Violet’s silent devastation, the dam broke. 

A choked, trembling sob escaped her, and once it started, she couldn’t hold back. The tears fell fast, unbidden, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, as if somehow that could contain the pain flooding out of her. Her shoulders shook, and she curled in around herself, burying her face in her hands, feeling utterly exposed, broken, and alone. 

“I—I thought if I saved you… if I made sure you lived… that it would somehow make it right,” she gasped between sobs. “I thought it would make his sacrifice mean something. I didn’t want to leave him, Violet. I swear I didn’t. But he—he told me to go save you. Just please, say something. Anything. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I loved him too. He was my best friend, and I miss him so much it feels like it’s tearing me apart. I wanted to save him. I would have given anything, everything. But he begged me, Violet, and I went to save you with full intention of dying.” 

And in the emptiness that followed, Genevieve’s quiet sobs filled the space, echoing off the walls until the room felt saturated with the sorrow. Genevieve covered her face, trying to quiet herself, but her body betrayed her, wracked by grief and guilt so profound it felt as if it would consume her. 

The silence stretched, brittle and unyielding, and in that silence, Genevieve felt like a dam had broken. She didn’t know how long she cried, didn’t know if she’d ever be able to stop. She wanted to reach out to Violet, to touch her hand, to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness, but she didn’t dare move. The fear that Violet might pull away, might leave her there alone again, kept her paralyzed. 

Finally, she felt a hand on her shoulder. The touch was so gentle, so unexpected, that she almost thought she’d imagined it. But then it tightened, pulling her closer, and before she knew it, Violet’s arms were around her, pulling her into a fierce, trembling embrace. 

Genevieve clung to her, her sobs breaking into softer gasps as she buried her face in Violet’s shoulder. And Violet held her, her own tears falling as she stroked Genevieve’s hair, her fingers shaking as she tried to comfort the very person she had blamed. 

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity until they fell asleep, two broken souls wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing the weight of a loss that neither of them knew how to bear alone. And in that embrace, something began to mend, a tentative, unsteady healing. The pain was still there—sharp, aching—but for the first time, Genevieve felt as if maybe, someday, it wouldn’t hurt quite this much. 

And should she find herself in that scenario again, she swears will be strong enough to save everyone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hey everyone! How’d we like the development between Violet and Genevieve? What about what’s going on with Genevieve’s body? A whole host of things went down in this chapter that are important later on, so hopefully you guys picked up on it.

A little update on me and the tragic hero—i think I’m going to switch to a once a week upload schedule for a little bit. My nausea has been getting worse, and I’ve fallen behind on writing so i don’t have enough prepared to keep up with this once a week schedule. I’ll definitely have one-shots up on my tumblr, but I’m going to be slowing down for a little until this subsides a bit.

I hope that doesn’t bother anyone too much, im just in some sort of a slump right now 😭

As always, if you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I’ll be back next Saturday with the next chapter!

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