#I guess the good news is that the chapter I was worried about (you know. the one where things gets deranged.) will actually probably

[lokisprettygirl]

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read Chapter 14 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 15

Summary : Girls night at Patricia's leads to more revelation of Eric's past.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, domestic violence, child abuse, cheating, reader has a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

Eric had your thigh between his palms as he pressed them into your chest.

You couldn't help but smile, you noticed how he wasn't even looking at you now that you two were officially together. He was so shy at times, it was adorable.

“Well now that I don't have to play pretend ..can I just say you look really hot in this position?” he looked up at you, finally meeting your eyes, a shy smile graced his plump lips.

“You'll get me fired” he said as he leaned closer, your thigh still in his hold.

“Mmm don't worry..the owner lives in my neighbourhood..I can ask him to go easy on you” he chuckled as you said that. He liked this side of yours, flirty, confident, it was so hot.

“I heard he's a real jerk,” he said as he deepened the stretch. Your eyes finally squeezed shut as you felt that ache.

“Heard wrong mister..he's kind of perfect”

His heart warmed at the comment, he leaned down to kiss your forehead before he pecked your lips, he still had to brace himself everytime and thank all the lords that you were allowing him to touch you like this.

“You're getting flexible…that's good”

He grinned as he held the stretch a little longer, hands steady on your thigh. His touch was firm, professional but there was a tremble in his fingers now, like he was just barely containing himself.

“Flexible, huh?” you teased, your voice low. “Is that why you're smiling like that?” You sighed in relief as he finally let go of one side and moved to another.

“I'm smiling because you're making it very hard to stay professional.” You couldn't help but bite on your lower lip as he said that.

“Should have thought of it before you pressed me down on the floor and got on top of me”

“True” he admitted with a breathy laugh, and finally let up on the stretch, gently lowering your leg. He helped you sit up, still kneeling in front of you on the mat. The gym was fairly empty. It was 9 pm now.. nearing the closing time.

As you both reached the front desk Chance smirked.

“Do I have to sit in front of the security monitor and watch you two canoodling now?” He asked, making your face flushed in response.

“You have an option to just.. not watch.. you know?” Eric retorted while you pretended to focus on signing your exit time. Chance rolled his eyes before he clapped his hands together.

“It's been a long week. What are we doing tomorrow?”

“Ahhh sorry..you two will have to fend for yourselves..we are having girls night at Patricia's..I guess Shelly didn't tell you huh”

Chance made an exaggerated sad face as you told him that.

“Hey man do you want to get a new tattoo..i need to do something” Chance spoke again so Eric sighed.

“I can't do that a week before the competition..it's a hassle to cover these as it is” your brows quirked as he said that.

“Hang on..you know how to tattoo? And you hide them before every round?” You posed the questions for both of them so they looked at each other.

“Guess we don't talk enough about poor Chance here huh?” Chance said, faking as if he was offended you didn't know.“I do have a setup in my apartment..it's exclusive though, appointments only”

“That's so cool” you said to him so he winked and nodded in agreement. Shelly had so many tattoos on her as well.

“Why do you hide them? Is that a rule?” You asked Eric again so he sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. “They have guidelines. Visible tattoos can cost you points depending on the judges. It’s not a strict rule, but… well, some of them are old-school. Traditional. They want clean lines, symmetry, and no distractions.’

“Makes sense I guess..can I help you with your covering ritual this time then?” You asked him, you could hear Chance groaning at the sickening flirtation.

“Ohkay I'm out of here” he said as he grabbed his bag and put on his Jacket.

“Hey I promise I'll get a new one after the competition,” Eric said to him, making Chance smile.

After closing up the gym Eric took you out for dinner. At your favorite place. Salt and Pepper. You had reached a point where you didn't bother hiding how much you loved their food.

“Did you ever bring Regina here?” You asked him amidst taking the bite, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Once.. she hated it. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing.. whatever that means”

That bitch.

She has been real quiet these days on her Socials and that wasn't a good sign. You wondered if she knew about you and Eric. You had been ignoring your mother's calls as well for five days now. You knew Jake must have gotten to her and you also knew she'd have nothing good to say about your relationship with Eric..

Eric watched you for a moment, his eyes softened .

“You okay?” he asked.

You blinked out of your thoughts and smiled

“Yeah. Just thinking about how anyone could hate this place. The food’s incredible”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Right? I still don’t get it. She said the lighting made her look pale..there were times when I wanted to tell her that it's not the lighting” You chuckled as he said that “You’re not thinking about her, are you?” he asked as he reached for your hand, he grabbed your fingers between his thumb and forefingers, gently caressing the back.

“No” you lied. “Okay, maybe a little. Her and Jake and my mother”

Eric’s jaw tightened slightly, his thumb now tracing circles on the back of your hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You were still getting used to it. With Jake whenever you had a concern, he'd just ask you to not overthink, talking about it wasn't really an option so you were still getting used to the way Eric handled your situations.

“It’s just constant noise in my head. My mother never liked when I did anything on my own terms…i remember her being so disappointed when I told her I wanted to move here and uhhh ummm do uhhhh dancing”

Eric's brows raised in curiosity as you mentioned it.

“You dance?”

“Some bug I caught in my early adulthood.. and then I came here and realised that I'm nearly not as good as those other people and it wasn't really easy sustaining on my own..my parents had almost disowned me” you chuckled but he wasn't amused.

“They disowned you for following your interest?” He asked so you shrugged as if it didn't hurt when you thought about that time.

“Not officially but they refused to help with money and even when they did they kept asking me to reconsider my choices, never feeling proud when I aced in a class or had a good day”

As you started to say your thoughts put loud you realised how fucked up it was.

Eric didn’t say anything right away. His thumb had stopped moving, but he hadn’t let go of your hand. His gaze was fixed, the moment he realised you were feeling bad he got up from the adjacent seat and sat next to you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“That’s not love. That’s control.”

You blinked, startled by how plainly he said it.

“They made you feel like your value depended on what you did for them. On how well you followed the script that they had for you, the one that they could sell to their friends and families. That’s not support. That’s… pressure dressed up as concern”

Everything he had learned about your mom so far only made him feel enraged, he had gotten really blessed with Patricia.

She had every right to despise him, she didn't really have to take him in when she did, he wasn't her burden to bear to begin with but she did. She was an angel in human form, he couldn't understand how your mother could do this to you.

Eric held you closer, pressing a warm, steady kiss to the side of your head. You didn’t pull away. If anything, you leaned into it.

“I’m sorry they made you feel like you had to apologize for dreaming,” he murmured. “You deserved to be celebrated. Not guilt-tripped.”

Your eyes were stinging again. You hated crying in public, but something about him just made it feel… safe. Like you didn’t need to keep bracing for judgment that would come out of nowhere.

“Mmm but then I ended up a librarian so not really much of a step up from my failed dancing career ..my mom still tells everyone that I work in corporate or something” you chuckled again. He pulled away a little just so he could hold your chin and make you face him.

“Being a librarian isn’t a step down,” he said, voice low but steady. “You’re surrounded by beautiful stories written by beautiful people like you. That’s honestly kind of amazing.”

You stared deeply in his big green eyes, unsure how to respond. No one had ever made it sound like that before. Most people just nodded politely when you said what you did and then asked what your plans were for the future. As if being a librarian was another step on the ladder.

“I don't regret it..i wouldn't have met you if it wasn't for the library” you smiled as you leaned in to peck his lips.

The walk home was fairly quiet after that heavy conversation, your fingers curled around his. Unbeknownst to you, someone has clicked a picture of you both as you walked hand in hand.

*********

Next night you spent at Patricia's, after Shelly passed out on the couch, Patricia asked Stella to rest too. Then she took you to her room.

“Sit down..I'll show you something” she said as she wheeled around her room.

You chuckled before you took a place on the couch. She pulled a file from her closet before she wheeled back to you.

“Do you recognise the woman in the picture?” She pulled out a drawing from the file so you took it.

It was unmistakable, it was you. Drawn in charcoal, it wasn't a perfect image, just like you weren't perfect, but you could tell it was you, standing in the window of your room, your elbows resting on the edge, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“I didn't know he could draw,” you said, lost in awe at the detail, the way he had captured you in the way no camera could.

“He only does that when something or someone catches his eye” you smiled as she said that. But then you saw the date at the bottom of the picture.

“Wait..this must be a mistake right?” You asked her, it was dated six years ago. Not long after you came to live in the neighborhood.

“It's not a mistake” she said as she passed you other drawings..it was all you, at the coffee shop, at the grocery store. All those places you used to see Eric before. It was way before he even started coming to the library.

“I don't think he remembers making them either, he often draws when he's completely stressed, never looks back at them when he's done..me being me I collect them like treasures” she said softly, your eyes were already teary.

It was unnerving to see yourself on the paper like this, drawn through someone else's eyes, not in a creepy way but more like you had been noticed even back then and then preserved.

“I used to see him around all the time” you murmured, thumb tracing over the outline of the figure . “Before he even came to the library, I often saw him at the coffee shop on 5th or sometimes I'd see him running down the block, headphones in, eyes forward. He never looked at anyone. I never thought he even noticed me” she smiled as you said that.

“He noticed..he just didn't want to make it real” you looked at her confused as she said that. “Eric has always been a little different. Does he ever talk about his father?” She asked softly so you shook your head in response.

“Well..his father is one of the reasons why he never wanted to get involved with a woman..i still remember that day, he was a month shy from sixteen.. there was a girl that lived next door to us, Cassie, she had a silly little crush on him-” you smiled as she narrated the story. Of Course she did, you'd too if you were his neighbour at that age.

“One day she came crying to me telling me to teach my son some manners because he didn't know how to behave with a girl..I was immediately worried, wondering what my sweet bug had done? Deep down I knew he could do no wrong..not to a girl” you tilted your head as you absorbed the information. That was something you knew too, he might be rude at times especially when women flirted with him at the gym but he'd never hurt anyone.

“I confronted him and then he burst into tears, telling me how Cassie wanted him to become her boyfriend and how he was never going to become someone's boyfriend or husband ever because he knew they hurt their women-” her eyes teared up as if she was peering into her past and giving you a glimpse of it.

“That's not what a mother would ever want to hear from her child, listening to him talk about how he didn't believe he could ever give or receive love was heartbreaking” you placed your hand on hers so she wiped her tears and smiled.

“He keeps his walls up you know? So when he saw you in flashes he didn't think much of it, it was easier to pretend you were just another person in the crowd, even though he was drawing you all the time..you didn't become real to him until you said his name and smiled at him when he saw you at the library”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as she finished. You couldn't fathom it, being a part of someone's thoughts for years, not realising it, wasting those years with someone who didn't value anything about you.

“I am speechless right now ..I don't know what to say-”

“You don't have to..just don't tell him about this.. he'd hide from embarrassment” she let out a chuckle so you did the same.

“It will stay between us” You made the gesture of sealing your lips shut, making her smile.

“You must be wondering how could he go with someone like Regina after all this”

Well that was a thought you had even before you knew anything about him, even when you didn't know about his past you often wondered what he was doing with someone like her. They were so different from each other.

“He didn't choose her, she just fell in his way, he was trying to move on and she wasn't not persistent, I'd give her that” she chuckled. “He let her build a version of him that looked good online, it helped him too, got him a following, more members at the gym” Patricia continued. “Regina was safe, in the way pain sometimes is. Familiar. He thought if he played along, maybe he could pretend he wasn’t meant for anything deeper or real.”

“But he is” you whispered.

Patricia smiled again, this time with something softer in her eyes. “Oh, he is. That boy has more depth in his silence than most people have in a thousand words. But he’s spent so long punishing himself for his past, for things he couldn't control, the anger that lives in him that mirrors his father, he's often worried something would tick him off and he'd snap..just like his father used to and he'd not want to drag anyone down with him when that happens”

You sat back, swallowing the knot in your throat.

“He could never hurt anyone, not a girl or a woman, he's not capable of that” you said to her, you weren't trying to console her, you knew him, he was incapable of harming anyone like that, anyone who didn't deserve it, especially you.

“He needs to believe that my dear..that's why he was so afraid of talking to you, afraid of hope and rejection, afraid of getting too close, he borrows his happiness in pieces and even then he believes he'd have to pay it back someday” you nodded as she said that.

“Look at me I'm being such a downer on our girls night”

She said as she wiped her tears so you shook your head

“No, I'm truly grateful to you Patricia and I'm grateful that you're here with him, he deserves that..he never talks about himself, but I think I'll slowly make him open up. I want to be there the way he has been there for me” she placed her hand on your cheek before she leaned and kissed your forehead.

“You're truly something special my dear, the moment I saw you at the store i just knew he chose well”

After that heavy conversation it was time for her sleep as the medicine had begun to kick in and you didn't want her to get sick so you helped her to bed and bid her a goodnight, as you came to the living room you covered Shelly with a blanket before you headed for the guest room.

There was a missed call from your Mom again but you ignored it, there was another one from Eric so you called him back.

“Hi there” you mumbled softly as you laid on your stomach on the bed, legs flailing, heart racing.

“Did I interrupt the girls' night?” he asked, making you chuckle

“Mmmm absolutely not, everyone else is asleep..”

“Did you have Fun atleast?” He asked softly you hummed in response.

“So much fun ..though I do miss you, and I wonder if you'd be open to sneaking into your own house like a thief and spending the night in the guest room..with me?” His blood warmed at the sound of your voice, he still had to pinch himself to believe any of this was actually happening.

“That is a tempting offer”

“Mmmmm and I'm wearing your tshirt too if you needed more motivation -”

“On my way”

You chuckled as he hung up. Ten minutes later he was softly knocking outside your door..

As you opened you saw him, wearing a white shirt as opposed to his usual black, blue jeans, his slutty forearms on display.

“You came so fast-”

“I ran a redlight i believe.. broke a few laws” he said as he stepped in and then locked the door behind him.

“Good, I like my men with a criminal record” the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself. He flinched internally for a moment before his hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into his chest. He didn't know that you knew about his past, but you knew that you knew and you wanted to be more careful with those jokes.

He leaned down to kiss you as softly as he could, but then it heated up quickly, his arms hooked under your hips as he lifted you up, his mouth latched onto your neck, kissing every inch of the bare skin he could find, he didn't want to rush this, especially knowing how you felt about your body at the moment. He didn't want to do anything that would hurt you. He laid you down on the bed and got on top of you.

“You lift me up as if I'm not 150 pounds”

He smiled against your skin, before he cupped your cheeks. “That 150 pounds,” he murmured, “is made of every beautiful thing I have ever wanted to hold close to me. It’s all mine now..150..130 .. it won't matter as long as you're healthy and I'll make sure that you are. Healthy..happy and safe”

You caught his gaze, and in it, you saw something fierce and tender, a promise that made your chest tighten. With Eric it never really was about your weight but how you felt about it.

He leaned down again, lips brushing over yours like a soft promise, grounding you both in that moment, in the feeling of being utterly, completely wanted.

“It feels so good when you touch me” you mumbled, voice a low whisper against his mouth, you placed his hand under the shirt, his shirt that you had put on. His breath hitched at the gesture, heat rushing up to his cheeks, blood rushing to his cock.

Your hands slipped beneath his tshirt, fingers caressing the back, you could feel each muscle under your fingertips, you could probably name them too now since he had a habit of reciting them whenever he made you workout.

“I want.. I want to tell you something” he mumbled softly as he pulled away a little, placing himself on his palms.

“Tell me anything” His eyes searched yours, his face flushed, but it wasn’t just arousal anymore, it was something else.

“It's a bit embarrassing,” His hands trembled slightly where they rested beside you.

“It's okay..you can talk to me Eric” you murmured, brushing your thumb lightly against his cheek.

He looked down for a moment, the tips of his ears burning. “I’m not like your ex or the guys you’ve probably known before” he said, voice strained with the weight of something long carried. “Regina was my first. And I mean that in every way..never told her, but then she didn't really care about that aspect of our relationship”

Your heart cracked a little at the way he said it as if he was ashamed.

“I know how it sounds.. I'm a man in my thirties and I might give the impression that I do this everyday with different girls but it's not true” a small smile escaped your lips as he said that. That's not what you ever thought of him, sure he was sinfully sexy with the body of a Greek statue but he also didn't give the impression as if he was easily available.

“It's nothing weird or embarrassing..you don't have to feel as if it is.. I haven't been with many people either..that's not a bad thing”

He finally looked up at you again as if he couldn't believe you weren't making fun of him for that. It's not as if he didn't know what to do in bed, he got a hang of it with Regina, it didn't happen often but whenever it did happen he made sure she had an orgasm, that she was satisfied.

“You make things easy to talk about”

He leaned down to kiss you softly, his words made you giddy.

“You have been doing that for me since the beginning”

“This doesn't change anything?” he asked,

“Not at all, in fact it makes me want you more, explore you in ways you have never been explored before” you murmured as your arms wrapped around his neck again, fingers gently caressing his scalp. “You're so sexy and you don't even try..not one bit” 

Your words almost made him lose it in his pants, like a teenager but he controlled.

His arm wrapped around your waist as you cuddled close to him all night long. Next morning when you woke up he wasn't there, he had left a note behind though.

At the gym :) Come whenever you want or rest. It's Sunday. Miss you baby. Can I call you that? Like the sound of it. Thanks for last night..really.. I mean it - Eric  

God how was he even real? 

You really wanted to spend the day with Patricia and then go see Eric when he wasn't busy but then you received a call from Shelly, she had left Patricia's early this morning as she had a spa appointment. 

“I think I'm gonna have to pull out the screenshots again..that fucking bitch needs a lesson” 

You were confused by the anger but you knew it was about Regina.

“Wait wait wait ..what happened?” You asked her as you didn't follow her anymore so you didn't get immediate updates. You had a feeling she was being quiet on purpose.

After days of silence Regina had posted a “tell all" video on her youtube channel, describing how her boyfriend Eric cheated on her with ugly fat girl he met at his gym and the video had gone viral.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit @venuslayla23-blog @somedayimagines @sn0wybowie-blog

[musical-chick-13]

This transitory scene needs to be here, but my GOD, I don't want to fucking write it.

[mydearzero]

The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader | Chapter 3 - Sweet Tooth

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter. 

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, mentions of food and eating in this chapter.

Read it on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

2.3K words

You didn’t really know what to expect of your new job. From what you understood from your conversation with Yelena, it was mostly intended for you to stick around Bob when they went on missions. But then came the unexpected attacks, or last-minute meetings. Alexei had concluded it’d be easiest if you just spent most of your time at the Watchtower. Your classes were mostly online, so it didn’t make too much of a difference in your life. It was good for you, too, to socialize with someone other than your laptop. 

The first week was somewhat awkward. You’d tried a little too hard to keep Bob engaged, but soon realized he much preferred a silent companion. Not that he didn’t enjoy conversation, or your presence, but more that he craved actual genuine interest and not the artifice you were trying to engage him with. The happy inbetween ended up being him reading in the windowsill while you did your coursework. 

The rest of the team was busier in their day to day life than you’d expected. John spent most of his time in his own home, trying to rekindle his relationship with his wife and child. He still came to the Watchtower every other day, joining the team for dinner and meetings. So many meetings. What they were about, you had no clue. You’d expected the life of a superhero to be a bit more eventful than the many, many meetings they attended. 

Ava’d explained it was mainly because of their past as mercenaries and current connection to Val that they had to have a lot of meetings about the legality of things. Every step they took had to be approved until they could be trusted enough to make their own decisions. 

Speaking of trusting someone enough to make their own decisions.

“Can we go to the store later?” It’d been about an hour or 2 since Bob last spoke. His voice startled you out of your focus. He quickly apologized for scaring you. 

“Hey, hey, no worries. I was just really focussed. What do you want to go to the store for? And not that I don’t wanna come, but can’t you go alone?” You wondered. 

“I mean, I can, I think. I’m pretty sure Yelena would prefer it if I stayed inside at all times wrapped up in bubble wrap. I don’t really need anything, I’ve just read about every book to be found in this place. Need some new material,” Bob chuckled. 

“How about this, I’m almost done with this assignment. Let’s go to a bookstore and we can go get some lunch after, yeah?” 

Bob beamed at the suggestion, clearly done with being cooped up inside at all times. He put the book he finished back on the shelf and walked into the hallway, presumably to go get his things. You typed a few more words into your document before saving it and closing your laptop. 

You grabbed your bag off the floor and took out only a few essentials. No need to bring the entire thing if you were just going for lunch. 

Bob was taking a little longer than expected, so you went to check in on him. You went to knock, but the door to his room was open. Just as you were about to ask if he was ready to go, he tugged the loose shirt he was wearing over his head to change it for another. 

Holy shit. Bob is ripped. 

You felt heat rush to your face as you quickly backed away from the door. Sure, Bob was cute, you weren’t blind. He had the whole soft broken boy thing going on. You never would’ve guessed he was built like a brick house under all those baggy sweaters. Sweet lord. 

“Hey, you ready?” Speak of the devil. Incredibly toned devil. Very good looking devil. 

“YEAH, I’m– Let’s go,” you walked towards the elevator before you could embarrass yourself any further. If your flushed complexion was even noticeable, Bob didn’t mention it. You had the instinct to fan your face, but resisted. You also resisted looking at Bob’s abdomen, now covered by yet another baggy shirt. 

How hadn’t you noticed? His arms were quite toned, as well. He didn’t wear short sleeves very often in the week you’d known him. God, you had to get past this, mentally, or your job was suddenly going to be a lot harder. Like his hard abs. STOP THAT.

Wait, can Bob read minds? He better not. Bob? Bob? BOB? BOB!? BOB!! Alright, safe… For now. 

“You alright?” Bob asked when you’d reached the bottom floor. He was waiting for you to get out of the elevator. You quickly got out and followed him past the reconstruction of the entryway.  Bob had looked up a few bookstores in the area. You let him lead the way, even when you’d probably been in New York longer than he had. 

You reached the first bookstore, a dusty secondhand one, after about 10 minutes of walking in silence. It wasn’t awkward, even if you’d expected it to be. Bob liked the silence, even when it was also one of his biggest enemies in life. The city made it so it was never actually quiet, though. 

A small bell rang as you entered the store. Bob held the door for you, like a true gentleman. 

“Anything specific you’re looking for?” You whispered as Bob bent his neck to read the spines. You browsed a little for yourself, as well, letting him take his time. 

“Not particularly, no. Just anything that piques my interest. I like fiction, though,” he mumbled the last part as he took a book off the shelf. 

“I thought you might be a fiction guy,” you smiled. In a different timeline where life hadn’t severely fucked him over, he was probably a big nerd. He was really smart, smarter than he let on. 

“Really? What gives it away?” Bob chuckled, thumbing a few spines, looking for a specific title by the same author. 

“Hmm, your general vibes, maybe? You just seem like the kind of guy who wants to escape reality every now and then.” You picked a book off the shelf you’d been meaning to read. College took up most of your time, you didn’t even remember the last time you’d actually sat down to read a book.

“That’s true, I guess. I like exploring new worlds, especially when worldbuilding is good,” Bob let you know. He’d put a few of the books he grabbed back, but held onto one you assumed he intended on buying. 

He was slowly opening up, something you were glad for. He was a lot more confident in himself when he was more comfortable, you noticed. 

Bob finished browsing and went to the register, taking your book out of your hands to pay for both. It was then he realized he had brought no means to pay besides a few stray dollars in the pockets of his pants. 

You chuckled and playfully rolled your eyes. You paid for the books and the clerk put them in a bag, handing them to you. You gave the bag to Bob. “If I’m gonna be paying, the least you can do is carry them. They’re mostly yours, anyway.” 

“I’ll pay you back. You’re not supposed to be spending money. If anything you’re supposed to be making it right now.” Bob promised. 

You told him there was no need. It wasn’t an expensive store, and the pay you received for pretty much just being his friend more than covered the costs. 

“Coffee?” You asked after you’d hit another bookstore. Bob agreed. Neither of you’d found anything at the last store. The books were mainly about business and finance, not the most interesting. 

You were about to pull up your phone to search for a café when Bob spotted the cutest little one just across the street, ‘Little Paris.’ 

Bob held the door for you once again. He would have to stop being all chivalrous if you wanted any chance of escaping today emotionally unscathed. 

You were led to a small booth in the back and got your menus. Bob seemingly had a hard time choosing between the many pastry and lunch options. In the end he settled for a stack of crėpes with chocolate sauce and an espresso. 

“They balance each other out,” he tried to convince you, to no avail. 

“If I’d known you had such a sweet tooth I’d have been trying to win you over with all the candy over the last week,” you laughed. 

The waitress came and took your orders, taking back the menus and leaving you with Bob once again. 

“You wouldn’t need candy to win me over, you’re sweet enough,” Bob said. Your eyebrows raised as far as they would go, 

“Robert Reynolds, was that a pickup line?” Your jaw hung open in mock offense. 

“Wh- No, that’s not what I meant! I meant you’ve been very nice, ‘s all…” 

“Damn, here I thought you were hitting on me. Might’ve made this a lunch date.” 

Bob flushed visibly, and you knew to take the teasing down a notch. Whether he was blushing because he had accidentally hit on you or because of the implication you’d go on a date with him, you weren’t sure.

Your drinks arrived just in time to break the awkward tension. You made Bob do a haul of the books he’d bought while you waited for your food to be served. They were mainly fantasy books, but there were a few self-help ones. 

“To be honest, I don’t really think you can get the kind of help I need from books, but it might be a good start to at least read up on it, I suppose,” Bob explained. 

“Somehow I don’t think those books cover superpowers,” you chimed in. Bob chuckled and agreed. 

Your food arrived, and you’d never seen a grown man so delighted to see a plate of sweet gooeyness. 

“Y’know–” Bob spoke in between bites. “Ever since I got these powers I’ve been crazy hungry. Bucky says it’s because your body burns so much more so your metabolism goes up, but sometimes I feel like an empty pit.” 

You pointed to the corner of his mouth, where a little chocolate sauce had escaped. He quickly wiped it with a napkin before continuing his ravaging. 

“It makes sense. Muscles… Assuming you have… Those… Uh, require energy, so…,” you chimed in, not really giving it much more thought. Mentally, you smacked your head against the wall. Physically, you just took another sip of your drink. 

“I mean, I’m not sure I’d be sitting here if I had zero muscles at all, so… You’re probably right,” Bob took a big gulp of the espresso, wincing at the bitter aftertaste. 

“You should eat until you feel full, though. We have plenty of time,” you smiled. You were nowhere near as far with your plate as Bob was with his, which was pretty much gone. 

“Hmm, we’ll still be here by midnight, then. I’m sure they’d wanna close before that. I’m not a monster, these people deserve to go home at some point,” the statement was followed by his last bite. 

“At some point, yes, but in the meantime, feel free to order more food.” 

“Oh, I will. I don’t even remember what you’re having, but it looks really good,” Bob stared at your plate as he sipped his coffee. “You want some?” You offered, raising your fork with a bite on it. 

“I mean, I– I’ll order my own,” Bob smiled awkwardly. 

“You can still have a taste, if you want,” you dangled the fork in front of his face tauntingly. 

Bob caught your wrist and snatched the fork out of your hand, putting the bite in his mouth. Your jaw dropped in shock, not expecting him to do that. His grip on your wrist had been stronger than he’d likely intended for it to be, but it had stung a little. It might bruise, but you didn’t care. Not if he was having a good time. 

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely ordering this,” Bob nodded as he swallowed the bite. The waitress came over at the exact right moment, allowing him to order another plate. 

You ordered another drink, even when yours hadn’t been entirely empty yet, just so Bob wouldn’t feel weird about ordering more. 

When Bob was finally satiated you called the waitress for the bill. Bob blanched, once again remembering he was relying on you for money right now. “At least let me get the tip,” he offered, putting whatever bills were left in his pocket on the table. You let him. 

When you finally made your way back to the tower it was later than you’d scheduled. You got up to the penthouse and saw Yelena and Ava sitting on the couch, watching some shitty reality show. 

Bob put his new books on the shelves and handed you the one you’d picked out for yourself. You thanked him and put it in your bag, taking the opportunity to gather your stuff. 

“I have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow?” It was a question directed at both Yelena and Bob. You never knew what their schedule was like. Yelena nodded as she munched on some chips. “I’ll be here until like 2, so if you can come by before that, that’d be great!” 

Before you got on the elevator your name rang from Bob’s lips. You turned back to look at him as you waited for the doors to open. “Thank you, for today I mean.” It was accompanied by a warm smile. 

You returned the same warm smile. “Anytime.”

Chapter 4

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki @chimchoom @spidermiraculous-blog @s00ty-feet @28cnn @tinythebunni @softpia @roeroeroeyourboet @secretkittydreamland @cultish-corner

[elysianightsss]

Pen Pal Price Part Two🫧🍑

nsfw ahead so I’ll cut it off at that point…reader is also described as chubby below because I am so they are too lol.

-

His voice startles you to the point where you visibly flinch, it’s nothing like how you imagined it to be. First of all, you didn’t know he was British. The accent that wraps around his words so sharply is one you recognise but can’t quite put your finger on in this moment.

His voice is deep, rumbles out somewhere from within his chest. It vibrates through the phone and through you. For him your honeyed voice drips into him like the sweetest summer wine.

“Sound so pretty.” You hear him mutter, barely a whisper but definitely something he was trying to hide. Your cheeks burn as you blush hard, your bottom lip caught between your teeth while you think of what to say to the man you’ve been writing to for weeks on end.

So many words exchanged and yet now you’re at a loss. Can’t think properly, it begs the question; how will you react when you meet in person?

“I haven’t got long, I guess now’s the time I tell you what I do for a living.” He chuckles lightly and you wish you could see his face while he does.

“Sounds intriguing.” You frown though your face is still smile stricken.

“Oh you bet it is love. Very dangerous, rough. I don’t think you’d want to hear about it.”

“Excuse me good sir, I live for danger. Did I not tell you how I dangerously painted the spare bedroom the other day? Though I don’t think it went well.” You joked looking over at the room that was half done and had paint streaks pointing in all different directions.

“Are you doubting your mad painting skills?” Your heart soared at the joke, at his laugh, just all of this. Being able to speak to him properly, being able to communicate more easily without waiting a whole week for his response to arrive by post. Shifting through the mail everyday desperate to read his words. You hadn’t felt this happy in years.

“Maybe just a little.” There’s a pause, and you think you hear some background chatter, something about unit leaving and someone definitely says captain, “maybe you could help me?”

“I definitely will.” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer, it’s so sure and so final. It says a lot about him. You’re desperate to know more. “I’m sorry love, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow? Same time?”

And he does, you lunge for the phone practically jumping through the air to answer him. You chat about useless things, have silly little conversations about everyday life. There are days when you think it’s his day off work, those days he stays on the phone to you for hours. Those days are your favourite.

He tells you about the new book he got and even reads you a few chapters while you cook dinner, he makes you promise to cook him a meal sometime. You don’t hesitate to agree.

Again he loves the domesticity of it all, how prefect you are in his eyes, though his ocean blues haven’t actually seen you yet. What a perfect little wife you would make. He knows it’s far too soon to think about things like that but he cannot help himself.

The way you fly away with yourself, talking about what you’re doing that day or joking about something you saw on tv or giggling about the cupcakes you were making because the icing went wrong making what you piped look like pigs instead of the unicorns you were going for, for you niece’s birthday party.

He listens with his eyes closed, dreaming of the day he comes back from deployment. The day he comes back to you, to home smelling of freshly baked goods. His pretty lady waiting for him all smiles and giggles. He wishes.

“Um..” you pause unsure, wondering what if he says no.

“What is it love?” He asks so worried. So ready to fix any problem you throw his why. Once again though you hesitate and once more he encourages you, “Come on pretty lady, tell me. What’s up?” You let the nickname you’ve reprimanded him about numerous times slide with what you’re about to ask.

“D-Did you want t-to video call?” He grins at how fucking adorable you are. The way you stutter just asking a simple question like that. He bites back a groan at the way he stiffens in his trousers. Dirty old man.

“I would love to.” He of course then had to explain he had a flip phone. You laughed hard at him and said he would need a smartphone. You had no idea he would go and buy one just to video call you with. Another thing you reprimand him for, spending his hard earned money so easily like that. His little lady nagging him, and all he does is smile at the sound. He loves it.

Your heart hammers in your chest as the phone rings. A lot like the first time he called you. You had talked him through the set up and helped him understand what an app is and how to call on text on a smart phone. And finally, you told him how to video call. Which app to press, you were just explaining how it works when your phone begins to buzz with ‘John💕 is FaceTime you’ popping up on the screen. Your number of course being the first one he added.

You can’t help but feel nervous, checking you look semi okay on the screen before pressing the green answer button. Then your breath is knocked out of you so hard you actually choke, John fussing about getting some water and breathing for him goes in one ear and out the other. You can’t look away from him even as you catch your breath.

He’s nothing like you pictured and yet he’s perfect.

He looks like the kind of man you picture when you read romance novels and the kind of man that sneaks into the dreams that have you waking up hot under the collar and panties sticking to you uncomfortably. The little description of himself you asked for certainly did not do him justice.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” Even though you frown, you can’t stop a smile from splitting your face.

You’ve got chubbier cheeks and thicker thighs than most girls, something you’re insecure about and john can tell. But fuck you look gorgeous to him. Over the next few weeks John catches on to just how badly you feel about your body image, the way you put yourself down in favour of supermodels, the way you wear oversized clothing to cover yourself up. He finds himself grumbling, hating it each second more than the last.

He understands how badly beauty culture has fucked over women who are genuinely beautiful but are made to feel like they’re nothing. He gets it, he does. But he certainly doesn’t agree. Especially not with you. He finds himself dreaming of those squishable cheeks of yours, the way you’re so soft around the edges, he can tell.

You completely did him in last Monday, it’s the middle of winter for goodness sake, how did he know that you’d be wearing shorts when he FaceTimed you. Gym shorts that hugged your plump ass so fucking perfectly, that flashed your thick thighs to him. Christ, he’s been thinking about those pretty thighs all week long. When he’s running drills, your thighs are on his mind. When he’s planning out a mission with his unit, your thighs are on his mind. And when he’s alone at night with his hand wrapped around his swollen cock, your thighs are on his mind.

He can’t stand it anymore, it’s been agonising with how busy he’s been not calling you, not seeing you or hearing your voice. No knowing what you’ve been up to or how your day has gone. He calls and he praises the Lord above for bringing you to him, when you answer. A prayer on his lips, a beg for you to become his wife one day when you’re there smiling in the cutest silk pyjama set he’s ever seen. It hugs you exquisitely, showing off your rounded edges and all John can think about is how he can’t wait to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your tummy.

You’re clearly fresh out the shower or bath with your damp hair and freshly wash face, but John’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, in fact he tells you so. You haven’t felt your cheeks burn the way they did then, well maybe one other occasion.

“Love?”

“Yes John?”

“Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow? At that cafe you like?” He’s hopeful when he asks, you can not only hear it in his voice but see it in his face. “I’m in the area for work and have a few days where I’m free and I’d love to see you.”

You can’t recall a time in your life where all you did was smile, but since you found John, you don’t remember what not smiling all the time was like. You don’t remember anything other than how happy he makes you. So you take a breath, you muster up the courage and say yes.

“I’d love to see you too John. Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.”

[livvymd]

Everyone Thinks They’re Dating—They’re Not. (Yet)

First pub golf - george clarke x reader. (Chapter one)

idk im bored so i thought id make a series I guess??

The night air was chilly, and Y/N couldn't shake off the nerves swirling in her stomach. She had done plenty of collabs with ChrisMD, ArthurTV, Arthur Hill, and Chip, but George Clarke was a new face. They had talked here and there through group chats, but she'd never met him in person. She stood outside the pub, trying to steady her breath before walking in.

"You're going to be fine," she told herself, adjusting the straps of her bag. "It's just a pub golf, nothing to be nervous about."

Inside, the pub was warm, filled with the buzz of chatter and laughter. As soon as Y/N stepped in, Chris spotted her and waved, signaling her over to the group already gathered around a table.

"Oi, Y/N!" Chris grinned, standing up to pull out a chair for her. "The gang's all here!"

She smiled awkwardly, her eyes scanning the group. Chip was already animatedly discussing something, ArthurTV was laughing at something Arthur Hill had said, and then her gaze landed on George Clarke. He was sitting quietly, sipping his drink, with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked different in person—taller, more intimidating in a way, but not in a bad way.

"Hey, George," Y/N said softly, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

He looked up, offering a polite smile. "Hey, nice to finally meet you in person. Chris has talked about you loads."

The awkwardness lingered for a second. Y/N shifted in her seat, trying to ease the tension she felt creeping up her spine. She wasn’t sure how to break the ice with him, but thankfully, Chris filled the silence by launching into the rules of the night’s pub golf event.

“Right, we’ve got our first challenge—let's get to it. Y/N, first time, so we’ll go easy on you.”

Y/N chuckled nervously. “I don’t even know what that means, but okay.”

George grinned, his eyes twinkling a little. “Don’t worry, it’s more about the fun than the actual competition. Though, we do tend to get a little competitive. You ready to show us how it’s done?”

She shot him a smile, relieved he was being friendly and easing her nerves a bit. "I think so... I hope so."

The group moved to the first bar in the pub, and Y/N felt the tension between her and George slowly start to fade as the night wore on. They weren’t quite at the point where it was smooth sailing yet, but they started making small talk here and there. George wasn’t flirting, not at all—but there was a certain warmth in the way he spoke, like he was genuinely getting to know her.

At the second bar, the drinks started flowing a bit more freely, and the atmosphere shifted. The laughter became louder, the jokes more ridiculous. Chris, always the instigator, pulled out his phone to record.

“Alright, let’s see who can do the best impression of a famous YouTuber,” Chris challenged.

Everyone groaned, but George stood up first, dramatically adjusting his posture before turning to Y/N. “I reckon Y/N could pull off a ChrisMD impression,” he teased, his voice playful. “What do you think?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Me? I think you’ve had a few too many, George.”

George grinned. “Maybe, but I reckon you can do it. Go on, give us your best ChrisMD.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the request was, but she stood up, setting her drink down. She exaggerated every part of Chris’s usual antics, throwing in over-the-top commentary about football and making everyone laugh. Even George, who was still sitting back, seemed impressed as he leaned forward.

“Okay, I’ll admit, that was pretty good,” George said, a smirk on his face. “But I still think I could beat you in the impression game.”

“Sure, mate,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes, but there was something in her voice—something playful—that made George’s grin widen even more.

They carried on like this, teasing each other back and forth, slowly starting to feel more comfortable in each other’s presence. The alcohol seemed to loosen everyone up, and as the night wore on, it became less about the competition and more about enjoying each other’s company.

At the next bar, everyone was significantly more drunk, and the playful jokes kept coming. Y/N had no idea when the mood shifted, but at some point, George started calling her “pet” in a teasing tone. She wasn’t sure if it was just a joke or if it meant something more, but every time he said it, her heart skipped a beat.

“Come on, pet, don’t be shy,” he teased, nudging her as she hesitated to take a shot. “You’ve got this.”

She laughed, trying to brush it off, but she couldn’t deny the weird feeling that had settled in her chest. It was a nickname, a joke, right? But it didn’t feel like just a joke. There was something in the way his voice softened when he said it, something in the way he looked at her with that half-smile.

As the night grew late, the tension between them seemed to build. George started calling her “poppet” too, and she wasn’t sure if it was just drunken flirting or something more. There was a teasing edge to his voice, but there was also something sincere in the way he said it. He was enjoying her company, but so was she—and for a split second, the whole room seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them.

“You’re a bad influence,” Y/N muttered, her words a little slurred.

George leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Me? I’m just helping you loosen up, pet.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or excited or both. She wasn’t sure if he was still joking, but the playful vibe between them had taken on a different tone. It didn’t feel like just a joke anymore—it felt real.

As the night wound down and the group began to stumble out of the pub, George pulled her aside for a moment, his hand resting casually on her arm. “You know, I didn’t think we’d get on so well,” he said, his voice low, sincere, with a hint of something she couldn’t quite place. “But I’m glad we did.”

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, me too. It’s been fun.”

The group began to scatter outside the final bar, everyone full of drink and laughter, limbs loose and stumbling as they tried to figure out taxis and directions. Y/N zipped up her jacket against the cold, cheeks flushed from a mix of alcohol and the lingering buzz of the night.

“You heading back alone?” George asked, his voice quiet but clear amidst the noise of the street.

Y/N turned, blinking at him. “Yeah. I don’t live far, I was just gonna walk.”

George frowned slightly. “I’ll walk you, if that’s alright.”

Her heart jumped a bit at the offer, but she kept her voice steady. “That’s... yeah, sure. If you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did, pet.”

There it was again—that nickname. Her lips twitched with a half-smile, and they started down the pavement together, a little quieter now that the group had broken off. The air between them felt more focused, more personal. Every step away from the others made it feel a bit more like something.

“You were a good sport tonight,” George said after a moment. “Didn’t even act like it was your first pub golf.”

“I think the five shots helped,” she laughed, pulling her sleeves over her hands. “That, and you lot being ridiculous.”

George chuckled. “We’re definitely that. But you fit in alright. Proper natural with the chaos.”

She glanced sideways at him. “You think?”

He nodded, sincere now. “Yeah. You’ve got this way of being... calm, even when everything’s mad around you. I noticed that.”

Y/N’s throat tightened slightly, caught off guard by the comment. No one had ever really said that to her. And the way he said it—soft, like he wasn’t just throwing words around—it stuck.

“Well,” she managed, brushing hair from her face, “you’re a lot nicer than I expected, if I’m honest.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Bit colder? Maybe a bit full of yourself?” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

He snorted. “Charming. So glad I made a great first impression.”

“You grew on me,” she admitted. “Especially after you started calling me ‘pet.’”

George glanced at her, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Yeah? You don’t mind it?”

“No,” she said, quieter now. “I don’t.”

They stopped in front of her building. Her flat was on the corner of a quiet street, streetlights casting long shadows. She turned toward him, suddenly hyperaware of how close they were.

“Well. This is me.”

George nodded, then hesitated. “I had a really good time tonight. With everyone. But… mostly with you.”

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Same.”

There was a beat. Just long enough for something to settle in the air. Then he rubbed the back of his neck, a little bashful.

“Would it be mad if I asked for your number?” he asked. “Just... I’d like to text you. Maybe hang out again. Without the golf and the camera crew.”

Her heart leapt, but she tried to play it cool. “That wouldn’t be mad.”

She handed him her phone, and he typed in his number, saving it under George Clarke 🍻. She couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll text you,” he said, passing it back. “So you’ve got mine too.”

“You better.”

He lingered for a moment, then offered a soft, “Goodnight, poppet.”

Y/N didn’t say anything—just smiled and stepped inside. And as she shut the door behind her, she leaned against it with a quiet laugh, heart racing, cheeks still warm.

Not a bad first pub golf.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 9

Ch9 is here and with it everything is set in motion! The bomb is ticking- Ch 10 is done and ch 11 is in the works, uhhh a lot of characters are about to make an appeareance along the way-

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 9 >>next

The Grayson household was having dinner like every night, the table filled with enough food to fill everyone, the kids on one side of the table and the adults on the other. “So- guess who’s finally getting his powers?” Mark started softly once the conversation quieted down, quickly getting met with a smile and praise from you and Debbie, neither noticing Nolan’s suspicious glare laced with worry.

“Are you sure?” The praise stopped as soon as Nolan’s voice was heard. Your foot immediately met his shin, making him look at you with surprise as you glared angrily at the man. “Dude-“ you almost hissed. “Don’t be like that. You know Mark wouldn’t lie about this, not when you put enough pressure on him as is.” The slight jab at his tough parenting made Nolan clear his throat and give a soft apology to his son.

Mark gives the man a small smile as he shrugs. “I mean- I did throw a trash bag into space at work.” The boy’s confirmation was met with a happily surprised look from Nolan, your eyes narrowing with suspicion at the older man’s customer service smile, after which he offered the young man to join their training sessions from tomorrow on.

All in all, Mark felt quite great! He could finally join his sister and father in their “saving the world” adventures, he could follow in Nolan’s steps. Finally be the protector of Earth alongside his family. He’s gonna be able to fly. He was finally going to be able to fly!

He went out onto the roof and knocked on his sister’s window. He wasn’t going to do this alone, what if he was the odd one out and couldn’t fly and fell and cracked his head open? Nuh-uh.

“Don’t look down, you’ll only scare yourself.” You warned Mark, your brother quickly shushing you as he muttered to himself. “Dad always said it was like a reflex, so if I don't want to fall, I won't, and even if I do, maybe it won't even hurt-“

“And Superman said it’s a leap of faith, so leap.” You interrupted his worried mutters, your hair flying around you as you lifted off the roof, ignoring his beg for you to be on the ground below just in case. “Don’t think about it, Mark. I believe in you.”

Mark’s tense muscles relaxed as he looked at his sister’s reassuring eyes. He didn’t look away as he stepped back until his back hit the wall and he didn’t look away as he started running, taking a leap and flying right to you.  You both laughed with glee at his success, you almost snorting as he started rolling like a ball and stopping upside down.

“Well. I guess we’ll have to work on you keeping upright.” You couldn’t help teasing him. “Shut up! I can do that-“ Your dear brother whined as he wiggled a bit in the air before he figured out how to turn. “See? It’s not that ha-auch!” Mark winced when he hit a tree branch while he unknowingly drifted as he talked, making you snicker.

His speed was good, and his landing needed work, but you weren’t one to talk. You almost crashed through a building on your first few landings. By morning Mark barely got an hour of sleep but with a whole pot of coffee, he was as good as new. Until he crashed again. “I guess that still counts as a landing.” Nolan sighs and tells Mark to get back up. “And it was in the middle of nowhere- so points for no civilian casualties?” you mutter as you cross your arms, one hand covering your mouth. “…That looked like it hurt.”

The man cleared his throat. “How about a bit of insight on how to interrogate?” You tried to argue against it, but Mark insisted he was fine, pushing to continue training. “Well…” You sigh before a mischievous smirk takes form on your mug. “I think I know just the guy for it.”

You three watch as the clown’s laughing turns into worried yelling for help, you and Nolan smiling while Mark just looks worried. “Shouldn’t we catch him?” You just waved him off. “Nah, the bastard is a rapist, abuser, and kid killer, let him suffer a bit.” The men look at each other before they look at you. “Rock, paper, scissors for who gets to throw him into space?” Nolan asks.

“You're really going to keep the shirt?” Mark asks as he looks at the fabric clenched into your hand. “Yep. I’m entitled to it. Won the game square and fair. And- I’m going to cross out Jason Todd and add The Joker so it’ll say, ‘I killed the Joker and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’. It’ll be fun.” Mark just shrugged, brushing it off as a Gothamite thing. “It’s fair and square.” His correction was met with you flipping him off.

While Nolan decided to teach Mark how to throw a good punch you went off for a bit, busy helping a kid get her cat from a tree. It was surprisingly common, too common for your liking- but you didn’t have it in you to ignore it. By the time you came back, Mark was gasping for air as Nolan was apologizing g. “Mark… If you really want to do what I do, what your sister does, you have to be prepared for anything. No one is gonna pull their punches.”

“Nolan.” You hissed at him as you stormed closer, helping your brother sit up. “I know you have expectations of him, of your son, a true Viltrumite or whatever- but you can’t just start hammering into him at full strength! It took time with me to develop my full strength and immunity, it will take time with him too.” The older man looked like a sad puppy as you berated him, but he nodded and apologized again, unable to argue with you. It was hard to get rid of the way he was raised, though, if push came to shove he knew who he’d stand by.

Debbie had a similar thought about her husband’s actions. Nolan was pushing too hard and at his outburst, you knew that he also felt the same. You decided to give Mark some space, he’ll come to you on his own. Nobody wanted to hear their father say that he’d rather you not have powers.

The next morning instead of flying Mark to school, you flew with him, greeting William and leaving with a hug to both boys and a goodbye. College was a bitch, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was nice to see all these passionate people.

Your mind, however, was still stuck on Nolan. He was acting weird since your brother got his powers, paranoid or skittish. The man was… peculiar. Not quite Wayne or Luthor's level of hiding secrets but you could tell he was never telling the full story, the Viltrumites seemed too good to be true. As you walked out of school, ready to get home and out for some work, a message made you change directions.

Hiding in the shadows, melting into them, was easy for you, natural even. So, when the two figures finally walked by you, you were quick to pounce, climbing onto Nolan’s shoulders while pushing Mark lightly, the younger man screaming at the sudden touch, swinging blindly behind him, only stopping when the lights came on and you giggled.

Your brother’s face flushed as he glared at you and Nolan’s smiling face. “You’ll get used to that. And you-” The man said while flicking one of your ears gently, making you whine. “Don’t scare your brother like that.” His tone was too light for you to take that as a serious warning so you just childishly booed.

The introduction to Art was quick, the best, and seemingly the only hero costume maker in Chicago. He also made your prom dress, which you loved, but this was… a questionable suit. “Forget the orange and yellow- What are those disks all over?” You asked. The old man just shrugged. “They’re solar-powered batteries. I designed that costume back when I was under the impression your dad’s powers were solar power based. Like that Krypton alien.”

“It’s a common mistake, don’t worry about it. Though, I think I’m a better hero than him.” Nolan couldn’t help but preen, trying to show off in front of his kids. It only resulted in you snickering. “I don’t know dad. He can shoot lasers from his eyes.” The father just huffed. “You’re biased, you have a crush on the man.”

The accusation made you stutter, face flushing at the thought. “I do not! Besides, he has kids around our age!” You huffed. “She’s right.” Mark shrugged. “Thank you-“ Your thanks were quick-lived as your brother continued. “Her daddy issues lie in bad boys, like that lead singer from Mucous Membrane.”

“Whose side are you on?!” You scoffed at Mark’s teasing, making the boy shrug. “The winning side.” Nolan only smiled at the interaction. “You do like the older people-“ you opened your mouth to comment but Nolan interrupted. “Like War Woman, Wonder Woman, Immortal, Brit, you mentioned that Slade mercenary once-“

You could only cover your face as he continued naming heroes and mercenaries, even some rich folk you’ve been working with, mortification slowly making you shake. “Shut up- please- just shut up- if I knew that this is what having an actual dad and sibling was like, I would have run away. This is treason- this is- I just mentioned these people once!”

"You did doodle War Woman and Wonder Woman once and put hearts around- ack!" Mark didn't get to finish as your hands grasped around the base of his neck tight enough for him to feel but not enough to do damage, and shook him back and forth. "Shut it, you little snitch!" The male specimens in the room only laughed at your misery.

As the men talked about Mark’s idea for a costume, you were sulking in the darkest corner of the room, the shadows were filled with amusement, chirping with happiness as they tried to lighten you up. “You want a symbol. That’s good. Have you thought of a name? It helps. Darkwing has dark wings, the Red Rush is a red rush when he runs by you. Your sister, The Sorceress, seems to have a new power every month like she’s magical.”

“I made her suit the darkest green I could find with bright green and gold accents to nod to the color of her powers and the average magical color that so many mages seem to have. The hood is a nod to the stereotypical witch cloak but the body was inspired by the viltrumite outfit your dad wore when he first came to earth. Small details for someone who has quite the bag of tricks, but when people see her, they know who it is. You get it? You give me something to go on, I'll strive for iconic. Think about it and get back to me.” Art reassured the boy.

The shadows hummed with a sensation of happiness and love as your hero's name was mentioned, after all, they’re quite proud that you chose their pick, Omni-girl was such a “follow into my footsteps” dad thing for Nolan to try and push onto you, they always judged him for that.

After the whole “find your identity” fiasco, Mark had to go do his homework, leaving you and Nolan alone quite a distance from anyone else who may be trying to listen in. As the man turned to face his daughter, she was already facing him, your eyes locked on him.

“Look- I don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to fix it.” When he opened his mouth, you immediately hushed him. “Let me finish. You’re being weird. I can’t tell if you’re paranoid or if you’re scared about something, but I know you trained me amazingly- whatever that was with Mark was sloppy- like you wanted to test him instead of teach.”

“I’m neither. Mark and I are Viltrumites; it’s our job to be the best of the best so we can- so we can help others-“ Your eyes narrowed and your lip curled at his stutter. He was slipping. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I told you before that I don’t believe that stuff about you Viltrumites being goody two shoes who only want the best for others. I’ve seen what other humans and aliens could do in the name of good. For all I and everyone else know, your race could be a long line of conquerors who kill those who refuse to bend.”

“Don’t-“ You interrupted him again when he tried to speak up once more. “I don’t care about that. Your past is whatever to me because you’ve helped so far. But you seriously need to think long and hard about where your loyalty lies. Debbie loves you, Mark loves you, Art believes you are a great friend, I-“ You can’t help the shaking in your hands as you give his chest, where his heart would be, a soft punch, barely making him grunt. “I love you, dad. Don’t fuck that up. Don’t make me regret that.” Pulling away from him you decide to give him some space to dwell on it. “I’ll tell Debbie you’ll be late.”

Tonight, you fell asleep to the thuds of Mark trying to perfect his landings, the only thing that made you shoot upright in your bed was a deep, gut feeling. “Someone’s being rude to mama.”  You slur, groggy with sleep as you get out of bed and crawl out the window, your hair a mess as you look over the roof down at Mark and Debbie. “Stop being mean to ma, Mark!” Your yell makes the two flinch, Debbie laughing at the sight of you half asleep glaring at your big brother. “I apologized! And she made me realize what my hero name is going to be! It’s-“

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26

The title card is a one off joke- I can't do it every chapter :)))

[misseverandever]

I CAN READ THIS, AND I WILL! LET’S GOOOOOOO!

omg was not on my 2024 bingo that I’m actually gonna read Melinda’s set for Anya

FRIST CARD: FOUR OF CUPS (the past)

that’s symbolizes Anya past implicating on her present, the cart indicates a need to experiences something new that brings joy and fills this empty space, something we see in our little girl eyes and i’m happy to see she’s doing good cuz in the past she certainly was a person that spends their days with their head down.

SECOND CARD: DEATH (the present)

The upright Death tarot card symbolizes transformation and the beginning of something new. It represents closing a chapter, leaving past experiences behind, we can think about Anya maturing and liberating from the trauma! Well in relationship (anya question) suggests the relationship may be stuck in a stagnant or unproductive dynamic, what we definitely can see, she tell his mother that he bullies her

THIRD CARD: THREE OF SWORDS (hidden influences)

The unseen problem huh? There’s a lot of them, well Donovan, Twilight, Operation Stixs… etc etc….

Whenever this card appears in a reading, it indicates conflict, disappointment, and misunderstanding (Well that’s definitely is the case), maybe Damian is definitely gonna be sad about why her approach to him, we know this is real cuz Damian already say before about people approaching him just because he is a Desmond and we know Anya have the same goal, but no worries is gonna be difficult but it can be resolved (they need to talk about this) !!!!

FORTH CARD: THE STAR (ANYA)

The Star in the upright position symbolizes hope, inspiration, and peace for the future. BUT is in the reversed position, so Anya reflects the feelings of hopelessness, confusion, and doubt as her navigate life's challenges and question circumstances. We see Melinda like that, and surprisingly Anya feel empty for her!

(So cute Anya being the star)

FIFTY CARD: TEN OF PENTACLES (the influence of others)

What kinds of external influences are dominating the situation? Well all of them! This card is important because it influences how others close to the Querent feel about the situation. AND GUESS ITS ALL RIGHT! This is a very positive card, and its positivity indicates that the path of challenges and difficulties has already been traveled, and now is the time to reap what is deserved. INNN THE RELATION WAAAAY (remember Anyas question not just because you know… i’m a shipper) is gonna be an harmony between them, whit a lot of happiness, cuties!

SIXTH CARD: ACE OF CUPS (what Anya have to do)

We see he is receiving, It’s often represents sadness, loss, and frustration, signaling difficulty in connecting. We know Damian is a difficult person, Anya have to deal with his feelings, is an important thing to do cuz if she don’t, they will not be together.

SEVENTH CARD: THREE OF WANDS (final results)

This last card is important because it takes into account all the six previous cards in its response. Here, we have an indicator of what the final resolution to the problem will be.

In this spread, the energy here is one of movement, so Anya cannot (and will not) stay still and she cannot try to handle everything alone.

The card indicates complicity, true love, and a strong connection. Sooo don't worry, as the frendship is real, and they will overcome it together.

SHE KNOWS!

SORRY MY ENGLISH IS KINDA BAD SO CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE FORGIVE ANY ERRORS IN THE TEXT? I was so exited to reed this, if you need tarot read dm me 🫶

[nymphea0]

Monster And His Love

Yan! Leon winston x reader

Oneshot Story (Special Side story)

(Warning : Some Death threat, Some Mature Scene in the end!)

(Minor are prohidited to read this story🚫 )

Main story of : Monster And His Love

Manhwa : Try Begging

: Adult Manhwa (19+)

Author: Libenia | 리베냐

Artist: ABYSS

Word Count ; 1k word

So because many of you asked about Leon's story, so this is a special chapter that I made. This is shows how rough and significant your future with leons is. so use a lot of your imagination my dear, every ending is yours to determine whether it is a happy ending or not. For my one of dear, i promise to update on New years eve, but guess not, but dont worry, in New years Eve i will update some special oneshot story, my dears.. do you all like Older Chara? Like for example Nanami or like peter killer? Some older man? (^3^) anyways.. much of love- Neva🦋

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story, much love.- Neva🦋

.

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Leon Winston, Who doesn't know that man? Brilliant achievements, famous among the soldiers and also the noble faction.

A handsome man who no one knows how much of a devil he is. Maybe there is only 1 person... his wife. That person is none other than you.

It has been more than 6 years that you have lived with a man, whom you call a devil, a crazy and cruel devil. 6 years you have faced hell by getting pregnant with his child. You have tried everything to escape from Leon, with the child you are carrying, but like a hunted deer, you are trapped. Can't run or even escape.

No.. this story is different from what you think, this is your story, your story in trying to tame the devil, for 6 years.. the effort was not in vain, maybe you could say.. you regret even doing that. Because Leon... is increasingly captivated.. and obsessed with you.

Fareadith Sophia Winston.. your first child with Leon, unfortunately she has Leon's hair color but with your amethyst eyes. You feel like crying every time you see her, you will remember Leon.

What surprised you .. Leon really loves Sophia, the reason is enough to make your soul tremble .. with burning intensity Leon said right in front of your face at that time.

"You ask, why do I like Sophia so much?"

Leon approached you slowly, pulling your chin, making you look directly into his eyes.

"Sophia reminds me of you my dear, she has the same eyes as you my wife .. my love, if she didn't look like you, I would definitely ... kill that child"

You really want to scream, curse and torture the man who is grinning like a devil in front of you.

.

'31 - xx - 1xxx'

At a beautiful glamorous party, attended by many rich families, a gathering of aristocrats.

One of them is, you and Leon. Even when you and Leon have changed identities in this country, Leon still insists on being a person with unlimited money.

Standing beside Leon who was busy talking to the coal entrepreneur. His right hand was holding a wine glass, while his left hand was hugging your waist affectionately. Maybe that's what people think, too bad, Leon did embrace you.. but also kept you in place so you don't wander off.

Being a good and obedient wife. Do you regret knowing Leon? Of course, you curse your father who took you to Count Winston's residence, maybe if you refused, this misfortune would not be directed at you, but at someone else, Riddle Grace for example, the girl at the summer resort that you accidentally met playing with Leon

The girl with Turquoise eyes, who Leon always called Daisy. Well, but the rice has become porridge, your fate may be more terrible than Riddle Grace.

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After the party, Leon forced you into his car, you sat quietly, very different from your husband who was busy focusing on the road.

His grip on the steering wheel was so tight, you? Sighing softly, damn, your hell will come soon. You really hoped the cooling ointment you bought at the local doctor would at least help heal the abrasions.

"How many men have you seduced tonight?!"

Leon may have his eyes on the road ahead, but his hands? His hands were tightly gripping your thighs, squeezing them with a mixture of emotion and possessiveness.

"Seducing you say? I've been standing beside you for over 2 hours Leon? How could I even seduce them when you're holding my waist tightly?!"

Damn, your story is over, you accidentally raised your voice, the car Leon was driving, made a sharp turn, and stopped right in front of the forest, a deserted area!.

"So it turns out, my love has now become a rebellious woman"

Leon got out of the car, turned around and forced open the side car door right where you were sitting.

"Look at me doll"

With his tight grip on the nape of your face with eyes filled with jealousy and arousal.

"Kneel"

You want to refuse but what can you do when you are side by side with Leon who could ask you to do more and more strange things.

You get out of the car, inevitably kneeling on the ground and grass that touches your knees.

"Open it with your own hands"

Leon looks at you kneeling right in front of him, so beautiful and erotic, how lucky he is to have a wife like you.

"Suck it faster doll, don't hit your teeth"

With a tight grip on your hair, Leon guides you to suck it and move your head back and forth, he penetrates your mouth, as if your mouth is another part that he really wants to damage and claim.

You can only pray that when you get home, Leon will at least be gentle with you.

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.

.

Let's say you are the saddest woman in the world, your daughter Shopia has above average intelligence that makes your head dizzy, while leon? The man was just busy laughing at the report from Sophia's guard who reported that the child had deliberately burned down the inauguration building of the international bank, on the grounds that the bank's funds used corrupted people's money.

With a revolutionary spirit along with the other people, sophia burned down the bank right on the day the bank was to be inaugurated.

"See the doll? I told you, it would be better if we put it in the military academy"

.

At night, maybe it's the time when your world really becomes a hell of torture.

Lying in bed, both your hands and feet are tied to each bedpost, making you in the 'X' position.

Eyes covered with black silk cloth, in a naked position.

Yes, that's right, naked, your hell will come soon, and you are not sure whether in 1 week you will be able to walk or not.

"Sophia is already 6 years old my dear, it would be nice if we gave her a sibling, a little brother for example? Hopefully the second one will be similar to you"

You can hear the sound of Leon's shoes, and the sound of flowing water and the sound of an object being placed somewhere, you are not sure.

Until you feel Leon's tongue forcing its way into your mouth, you can feel the wine flowing in every corner of your mouth, you can even feel the wine falling in vain to both your left and right sides.

"Tonight you are very naughty, teasing men at the party, raising your voice, even, trying to argue back to me"

Leon's hands skillfully squeeze your chest, his lips that very expertly sip, and bite your neck, leaving marks on every inch of your neck, claiming as if there is no tomorrow.

"I will enjoy you so much, my love"

For Leon, no one can take you away from him, if necessary making you pregnant with his child for the second time, maybe it's not a bad idea, even if the world ends.. Leon will find any way to be able to continue to be with you, no matter how much the price is needed.

Because you are there for him, and he is there for you, His, his alone, no one else.

His mine

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Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld @darkuni63

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story, Project Drak Manhwa Character story.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 26 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇I can’t tell if I should stop it after they get married or make the continuing chapters about them early marriage, also this one’s a long chapter.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The week had passed with an uneasy calm. Telemachus and Y/N were lounging under the shade of an olive tree near the palace gardens, her head resting on his lap as he absentmindedly played with her hair. She was smiling softly, feeling the warmth of his hand as he combed through her locks. “You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “for a guy who fought off suitors and snuck around secret passageways, you’re surprisingly calm now.”

Telemachus chuckled. “I have you to thank for that. You’ve been my calm in the storm.”

Before she could respond, a palace servant appeared, bowing respectfully. “My lord Telemachus, the king and queen have requested your presence in the main hall. Alone.”

She immediately sat up, glancing at Telemachus with curiosity and slight worry. “What do they want with you?”

Telemachus shrugged but felt a knot of anxiety twist in his stomach. “I don’t know, but I’d better not keep them waiting.”

He kissed her forehead quickly before standing, brushing off his tunic. “Don’t go getting into trouble while I’m gone.”

She smirked. “Trouble? Me? Never.” With a grin, Telemachus followed the servant into the palace, his nerves growing with each step. When he entered the hall, Odysseus and Penelope were seated side by side, their faces serious but not unkind.

“Son,” Odysseus began, his deep voice echoing in the room, “we have something important to discuss.”

Penelope offered a soft smile, her tone gentler. “Telemachus, it’s about Y/N.”

Telemachus blinked, his heart pounding. “Y/N? What about her?”

Odysseus leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You’ve proven your loyalty to her. Your love for her is clear. And after much deliberation, your mother and I agree that it’s time to solidify this bond—for the good of Ithaca and for your future.”

Penelope reached out, placing a comforting hand on her son’s arm. “We want you to marry her, Telemachus. In a month’s time.”

Telemachus froze. “A month?” he stammered.

“Yes,” Penelope said with a smile. “We believe it’s best for both of you to have this union sooner rather than later. The people will see it as a new chapter for Ithaca, a symbol of peace after the chaos.”

Odysseus, however, narrowed his eyes at his son. “You do intend to marry her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” Telemachus blurted out, his face heating. “I love her, I want to marry her, I just… a month? That’s so soon.”

Penelope chuckled softly, patting his hand. “Trust me, Telemachus, time will fly. You’ll see. Besides, I think she will be more than thrilled.”

Telemachus scratched the back of his neck, his nerves bubbling to the surface. “I just… I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Odysseus let out a bark of laughter. “Ready? You fought suitors, braved the seas, and stood against me without knowing who I was. If you can do that, you can handle a wedding.”

Telemachus sighed, his head spinning. “I guess there’s no point in arguing with either of you.”

Penelope leaned over and kissed his forehead. “That’s my boy. You’ll be fine, Telemachus. Just think about how happy you’ll make her.”

Telemachus nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah… I guess I’d better start practicing my vows.”As he left the hall, his mind reeled. A month. He loved y/n more than anything, but the thought of standing before the entire kingdom, of stepping into a new life as her husband, sent a wave of nervous excitement through him.

He made his way back to the gardens, already rehearsing how he’d break the news to y/n without tripping over his words. Telemachus found her exactly where he’d left her, sitting under the olive tree, her fingers idly plucking at the grass. She looked up as he approached, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Back so soon?” she teased, noticing the anxious look on his face. “What’s wrong? Did your parents scold you for sneaking around with me again?”

He chuckled nervously and sat beside her, fiddling with the hem of his tunic. “No, nothing like that… well, not exactly. They, uh, had something to tell me.”

She tilted her head, curious. “And what’s that?”

Telemachus hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “They, uh, want us to get married… in a month.”

She blinked at him, her expression calm and even. “That’s it?”

Telemachus gawked at her. “That’s it? Y/N, it’s in a month! That’s practically tomorrow!”

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Honestly, I thought it would’ve happened sooner. You’re royalty, after all. Isn’t this kind of thing expected?”

“You thought—wait, you expected this?” Telemachus asked, utterly baffled.

“Of course,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought your parents would demand it the moment they found out about us. A month? That’s practically generous.”

Telemachus groaned, falling back onto the grass. “Great, so you’re perfectly fine while I’m over here losing my mind.”

She leaned over him, a teasing smile on her lips. “You’re overthinking, Telemachus. We’ve been through so much already—sneaking around, hiding from suitors, fighting for our lives. A wedding? That’s the easy part.”

He stared up at her, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to worry about messing up your vows in front of the entire kingdom.”

“Who says I’m not worried about tripping over my dress?” She shot back, poking his chest playfully. “We’ll survive it, just like we’ve survived everything else.”

Telemachus sighed, letting her words sink in. “You’re right. As always.”

“Of course I am,” she said with a smirk, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Now stop stressing and start thinking about what you’re going to wear. A month will pass before you know it.”

He groaned again, but her reassurance softened the tension in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, this whole marriage thing wouldn’t be so terrifying after all—especially with Y/N by his side. her lips curled into a mischievous grin as she sat back on the grass, watching Telemachus recover from his earlier nerves. She let the silence linger for a moment, letting him think he was safe, before dropping the bombshell.

“You know,” she started casually, plucking at a blade of grass, “once we’re married, that would technically make Antinous your brother-in-law.”

Telemachus froze. His eye twitched. Then, slowly, he sat up, his face twisting in utter horror. “Brother-in-law? Antinous?!”

She bit her lip, trying and failing to hold back her laughter as Telemachus threw his hands in the air and began pacing in frantic circles. “No, no, no! Absolutely not!” he ranted, pointing a finger at her as if accusing her of some heinous crime. “Do you realize what you’ve just said? Antinous, the Antinous—smug, arrogant, insufferable—would be family! My family!”

“Technically, he’s already my family,” she pointed out with a shrug, her tone innocent but her eyes dancing with amusement.

“That’s different!” Telemachus snapped, running his hands through his hair as though he were on the brink of losing his mind. “You’re stuck with him. I’m choosing this, and nowhere in that choice did I agree to him being involved!”

She chuckled, leaning back on her hands. “Come on, Telemachus. It’s not like you’ll have to sit around bonding with him. Though…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It might be fun to see you two try. Imagine the heartfelt brotherly talks.”

Telemachus whirled around, his face a mixture of disbelief and outrage. “Heartfelt talks?! Y/N, the man tried to kill me! He literally plotted to have me ambushed and thrown into the ocean! What am I supposed to say to him—‘Hey, thanks for the warm welcome, bro’?! No! Absolutely not!”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as Telemachus continued his tirade. “And another thing!” he ranted, gesturing wildly. “He’s always got that smug, punchable look on his face! How am I supposed to sit at a family dinner without wanting to throw the nearest plate at him?”

“Family dinners will be so fun,” she teased, wiping a tear from her eye as her laughter died down. “Just think, you and Antinous, side by side, passing bread rolls like civilized men.”

Telemachus groaned, dropping dramatically to his knees. “Y/N, I’m begging you. Don’t make me do this. There has to be a loophole, right? Maybe we can disown him? Or—”

“Telemachus,” she interrupted, leaning over to cup his face in her hands, her smile soft but still teasing. “You’re going to survive this. I promise. And if you behave, I might even make sure Antinous doesn’t tease you too much at the wedding.”

He groaned again, letting his forehead fall onto her shoulder. “I’ve fought monsters, Y/N. Literal monsters. But this? This might actually be the thing that breaks me.”

She just laughed, wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll be fine, brother-in-law.”Telemachus let out a strangled noise, and she couldn’t help but laugh even harder.

———

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, biting her fingernails—a habit she had long outgrown but couldn’t help revisiting. Her heart felt heavy, torn between guilt and anxiety as she thought about the dark, damp dungeon where her brother was being kept. It had been a week since everything went down—the suitors’ deaths, Odysseus’s dramatic return, and Antinous’s imprisonment. She hadn’t visited him once.

Her stomach twisted. What if he’s angry with me? What if he thinks I’ve abandoned him? She loved her brother, despite everything. Antinous had always been complicated—harsh, arrogant, and difficult to read—but she couldn’t shake the memories of the boy who used to protect her, the brother who shielded her from everything.

“Are you still thinking about him?” Telemachus’s voice broke her train of thought.

She looked up to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed but his expression soft. She nodded slowly. “I can’t help it. It’s been a week, Telemachus. He’s my brother… I can’t stop thinking about how he must be feeling. Alone. Abandoned. I should’ve gone to see him by now.”

Telemachus walked over, sitting beside her on the bed. His jaw clenched briefly, but he forced a smile, hiding the venom he felt toward Antinous. “Y/N, listen. I know you care about him. I get it. But… don’t guilt yourself too much over this. He’s the one who made the choices that put him in that dungeon.”

“I know,” she whispered, looking down at her hands. “But he’s still my brother. And what if he thinks I’ve just forgotten about him? What if he thinks I hate him?” Telemachus sighed, resting a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know how to navigate this. The thought of Antinous rotting in the dungeon brought him satisfaction, but seeing her this distraught? That wasn’t what he wanted.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said, his tone as soothing as he could manage. “He’s probably… fine.” He hesitated, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to encourage her to go. “You know Antinous. He’s too stubborn to sit down there worrying about whether or not you’re thinking about him. He’s probably spent the whole week plotting some clever insult to throw your way when you show up.”

She laughed softly, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Telemachus said, leaning back on his hands. “It’s Antinous. He’s too proud to let a dungeon get the better of him.”

Her anxiety didn’t ease entirely, but she appreciated the effort Telemachus was making. She glanced over at him, noticing the faintest twitch in his jaw—he was trying hard to keep his dislike for Antinous under control. “You don’t have to pretend to like him, you know,” she said quietly.

Telemachus blinked, caught off guard, and then laughed awkwardly. “I’m not pretending to like him. I’m… tolerating him. For you.” He reached over to take her hand, squeezing it. “And because I know he’s important to you. That’s enough for me to—” He caught himself, searching for a word that didn’t betray his true feelings. “—put up with him.”

She smiled faintly, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, Telemachus. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“It’s not,” he admitted with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “But I’ll survive. As long as you don’t start calling him my brother-in-law again.”That drew a real laugh from her, and Telemachus relaxed slightly. For now, at least, he could handle this. Even if it meant biting his tongue whenever Antinous came up.

——

The stone steps leading down to the dungeon were cold and damp, and each one felt heavier than the last as she descended into the dimly lit space. The faint drip of water echoed through the halls, and the air smelled of mildew and stale despair. She wrapped her arms around herself as if it would shield her from the oppressive atmosphere.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She hadn’t seen Antinous in a week—not since Odysseus had declared his punishment. The last memory she had of him was the look in his eyes as the guards dragged him away, his usual bravado shattered into something raw and bitter. Finally, she reached the cell where he was being held. A guard gave her a cautious look but didn’t stop her as she approached the iron bars. “Five minutes,” he muttered before stepping back to give them space.

Antinous sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with his arms resting on his knees. His once-pristine clothes were now torn and dirty, and his hair was disheveled. He looked thinner, weaker—but his sharp eyes flicked up to meet hers, and that familiar edge of defiance was still there. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice rough from disuse. “Look who decided to grace me with her presence. I thought you’d forgotten all about me, dear sister.”

She flinched at the venom in his tone but held her ground. “I didn’t forget,” she said softly, gripping the bars. “I’ve been… I’ve been trying to figure out how to face you after everything that happened.”

Antinous raised an eyebrow, pushing himself to his feet. He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “Face me? What exactly do you think I’m going to do from in here, Y/N? Lecture you to death?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I just… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to fix this.”

His jaw tightened, and he leaned against the bars, his face inches from hers. “Fix it? There’s nothing to fix, Y/N. You’re on their side now. Odysseus’s little pet, Telemachus’s future wife—congratulations, by the way.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“That’s not fair,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You know I didn’t choose any of this. I didn’t choose to have to pick between my brother and the man I love. I—”

“The man you love?” Antinous cut her off, his voice rising. “You love him so much you’d let his father throw me into this pit like an animal? You love him so much that you’d just stand by while I rot down here?”

She recoiled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “That’s not true! I begged him to spare you! You’re still alive because of me!”

Antinous’s gaze softened for a brief moment, but he quickly masked it with a sneer. “And what a mercy this is,” he said bitterly, gesturing to his cell. “You really went above and beyond for me, Y/N.”

She shook her head, gripping the bars tighter. “I don’t know how to make you understand… I’m trying, Antinous. I’m trying to keep what little family I have left, but you make it so hard. You’re so angry all the time, and you can’t see past your hate for them to realize that I’m still here. I still love you!”

His eyes widened slightly at her words, but he quickly turned away, running a hand through his messy hair. “You shouldn’t,” he muttered.

She blinked, her breath catching. “What?”

Antinous faced the wall, his voice quieter now. “You shouldn’t love me. I’m a bastard, Y/N. I’ve done things you wouldn’t forgive me for if you knew. And now? Now I’m just a failure. A prisoner. A disgrace.”

She stepped as close to the bars as she could, her voice trembling but resolute. “You’re my brother. I don’t care what you’ve done, Antinous. I don’t care about any of it. You’re still my family, and I will never stop loving you.” He turned to her then, his face unreadable but his eyes glistening with something unspoken. For a moment, he seemed like the boy she used to know.

“You’re a fool,” he said finally, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

She smiled faintly through her tears. “Maybe. But I’m your fool.”

Antinous let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Go, y/n. You’ve done your duty as the good little sister. Go back to your prince.” She hesitated, wanting to say more, but the guard’s shadow loomed over her, signaling that her time was up. With a heavy heart, she stepped back, her eyes lingering on her brother one last time before she turned and walked away.

Antinous watched her go, his expression hardening again. But as soon as she was out of sight, he sat back down against the wall, running a hand over his face and letting out a shaky breath.

——

Y/N climbed the stairs from the dungeon slowly, her legs feeling like lead. Her encounter with Antinous replayed in her mind, the bitterness in his voice, the pain in his words. She wiped her eyes quickly as she reached Telemachus’s room, not wanting to let him see how deeply it had affected her.

Pushing open the door, she found Telemachus seated on the edge of his bed, flipping absently through a scroll. His brow furrowed when he noticed her face, streaked with remnants of tears, and he immediately set the scroll aside. “Y/N,” he said, standing up and walking toward her, concern etched into his features. “What happened? Did something go wrong?”

Without a word, she stepped into his arms, burying her face against his chest as her arms encircled his waist. She clung to him tightly, her body trembling slightly. Telemachus froze for a moment, startled by the intensity of her embrace, before wrapping his arms around her protectively.“You went to see him, didn’t you?” he asked softly, though his tone darkened with suspicion.

She nodded against his chest but didn’t lift her head to meet his eyes. “I had to,” she whispered. “I couldn’t just leave him down there without… without saying something.”

Telemachus tensed, his jaw clenching. “And what did he say to you?”

She hesitated, pulling back just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were glassy, and her lip quivered. “He’s angry. He thinks I’ve abandoned him… that I’ve chosen you over him.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Telemachus snapped, his frustration boiling to the surface. “You should choose me. He’s done nothing but bring chaos and ruin to this house, to you, and to my family!”

“Telemachus…” her voice was soft but pleading.

“No!” he barked, stepping away from her slightly, though his hands still rested on her shoulders. “I’ve been more than patient, Y/N. I’ve tried to understand your bond with him, but every time you cry over that bastard, I swear—” His voice dropped, cold and furious. “If he so much as says one more word to hurt you, I’ll march down there myself and have his head on a spike.”

Her breath hitched, and she reached up to cup his face with both hands. “Don’t say that,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please, don’t. He’s still my brother, Telemachus. I love him, even if he’s broken and cruel. He’s still a part of me.”

Telemachus looked down at her, his stormy expression softening as he took in her tear-streaked face. He let out a slow breath, his hands moving to her waist as he pulled her close again. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “But I can’t stand the thought of him hurting you anymore. It’s like… he doesn’t deserve to have someone like you care for him.”

She rested her forehead against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his tunic. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to hurt you. I just… I don’t know how to let go of him. He’s all I had for so long.”

Telemachus kissed the top of her head, his anger simmering down as he held her close. “I’ll protect you, no matter what,” he promised. “Even if it’s from him. But if he crosses a line, Y/N, I won’t hesitate. I love you too much to let him ruin you.”

She nodded, her tears soaking into his tunic. She didn’t want to think about what might happen if Antinous tested Telemachus’s patience, but for now, she let herself sink into his embrace, finding solace in his steady heartbeat.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

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@dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.

Chapter 8: Awooga?

Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.

There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.

It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.

Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.

You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.

Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.

You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.

Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.

Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.

you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?

The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.

Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?

You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.

you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.

Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.

you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.

Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.

You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.

Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.

That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.

Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.

Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.

The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.

“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.

Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.

you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!

As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.

You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.

Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.

Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear

[mydearzero]

The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader - Chapter 5 | City Lights

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter. 

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, themes of depression

Read it on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 4

1.9K words

It was nearing nightfall, and the team had yet to return from whatever it was they were doing. Bob also had yet to return from his bedroom. For a man who claimed to always be hungry, he was staying suspiciously far from the kitchen. You tried to coax him out twice, but knew not to push it. 

You were sitting on the couch watching a movie when you got a text from an unknown number:

We won’t be back tonight. Can you stay the night? There’s a free room next to Bob’s

It’s Ava btw

Yeah sure. Anything else? 

Not for now, we’ll keep you updated and let you know when we’ll be back. 

Well, you might as well get comfy and put on some sweatpants. Maybe have a shower while you were at it, too. You gathered the extra clothes you’d packed in case something like this were to happen and walked down the hallway, past Bob’s room. You contemplated knocking on the door, but due to your little mishap this afternoon you knew you didn’t have to knock, really. He’d probably heard you already. Your fist ghosted in front of the door, but before you could knock, it opened. 

“Ava texted me. You’re staying the night?” Bob asked, not addressing the fact he’d avoided you pretty much all day. You nodded and held up your clothes. 

“Was just about to go take a shower. You got any spare towels?” You looked him over now that you had the chance. His hands were noticeably shaking. You had to suppress the urge to just give him a hug and tell him it was all gonna be okay. 

“Yeah, there should be a few in the bathroom. I think we share one, assuming you’re next door?” 

“Ava said the room next to yours, so I’m guessing we’re neighbours, yeah,” you confirmed. You knew there was a bathroom for every 2 rooms. Rich people bullshit. Well, you could’ve had your own bathroom, that’d be even richer. 

“You can use some of my soap, if you want. Should all be there. Enough towels to go around, too.” Bob offered. You thanked him and made your way next door, checking out the bedroom before heading into the bathroom and locking both entrances. 

You turned the shower on and got undressed as you waited for the water to get warm. The shower was nicer than any one you’d been in before. You could get used to this. Probably Tony Stark’s doing while this was still his tower. 

The hot water took some of your worries with it, relaxing your muscles. You still couldn’t keep your mind from Bob and what had happened. The cut on your cheek stung when the warm water hit it directly, but other than that was completely fine. You understood his worries, but he couldn’t live in fear they’d happen or he’d never leave the house or talk to a soul again. Valentina also didn’t seem like a very intimidating threat. The team had her wrapped around their fingers, even if it was unwillingly. She couldn’t bribe you to sell out Bob to her grimy hands. 

You were appalled at the sight of the 3-in-1 body wash and shampoo Bob apparently settled on for his routine. Men. You’d have to take him shopping sometime soon and buy him some actual shampoo, conditioner and soap. It did smell nice, you had to give him that. Smelled like him. 

You turned the shower off and toweled yourself dry. You quickly got dressed and made your way back to what would be your bedroom for the night. A long sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself fall on the luxurious bed. Soft, but not too soft. Sturdy enough to support your back but more pillows than a girl could ever need. Good bed. 

Your mind wandered to Bob once more. He could likely hear you in the room, you realised. 

“Bob? I know you can hear me, so I’m gonna talk even if you don’t want to face me to hear it,” you tried. Worth a shot. You got no reply, not that you’d expected one. 

You sat up on the bed and gazed at the clock. 10 P.M. 

“I get that you’re afraid and that there’s parts of you I don’t understand yet. I also know there’s parts you’ll never let me see, but you can’t coop yourself up in your bedroom and just hope everything and everyone goes away until all eternity.” It felt strange, talking into an empty room. 

“I don’t have any intentions of hurting you, or handing you over to someone who might have such intentions. If I’m being realistic, I’m being paid to keep you company and I’m not really succeeding at that right now. So if you’ll just let me do my job and not get me fired, that’d be great.” 

You heard shuffling on the other side of your door, followed by a small, hesitant knock. You opened it in an instant, faced with a timid Bob. He was obviously feeling conflicted. 

“Can I come in?” He asked. You nodded and gestured for him to sit on the end of the bed. You joined him, pulling your legs up and facing him to let him talk. 

“It’s sweet, what you’re doing. Even if you’re being paid to do so. I just can’t see how this arrangement can work longtime. I appreciate that you’re keeping me company and I know what the team is trying to do. I know I need help, I just-” he looked at his hands, which up until now had been folded in his lap. They were still shaking. 

He took a deep breath before he continued. “I needed help even before all this. I’m not… I don’t wanna put everything on you right now. This team? These people? They’re trying to be the best people they can, despite their pasts. I know they’re trying their best for me, too, but I don’t deserve it.” 

You moved to put a comforting hand on his hunched shoulder, but he flinched away violently. You quickly put your hand back on your lap. “And you. You’re just a part of this all. I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t need someone on suicide watch.” He scoffed. Something was off. He was starting to sound different. He’d refused to look at you up until now. His expression was one you hadn’t seen from him before. You couldn’t place it. 

“And really, what are you gonna do? When it goes wrong, you can’t stop me. None of them can. It’s only a matter of time. I’m a walking time bomb and you’re only putting yourself in the area of detonation.” He got up off the bed and walked back to the hallway, slamming the door as he went. It fell off the hinges, wood splinters falling to the floor. 

You let out a shaky breath. Bob had scared you. This was not what you’d intended when you tried to coax him to talk to you. Was this what Yelena had talked about? Was this what happened when he was alone for too long? Was this why you were here in the first place? 

You tried to push the fear down as far as it would go and got off the bed. You stepped over the splintered door and looked down the hallway. Bob hadn’t gone into his room, the door still wide open. 

You walked back to the living room, with the penthouse windows overlooking the city. Bob was standing there, still as a statue, looking outside. You kept your distance, but you knew. You knew that he knew you were right behind him. 

You wanted to speak. Wanted to tell him it was all going to be okay. Ask him if he’d just go to bed and sleep it off. No sound left your lips. 

“Have you ever felt so empty you don’t think you’re actually feeling anything? Like you’re slowly being overtaken by a parasite that takes control and no matter what you do, your conscience gets sidelined by this being that’s hellbent on breaking you down bit by bit? Yet you know, logically, there’s no parasite. It’s all just… you. And the only way to make it stop, to finally make it quiet…” 

He didn’t have to finish for you to understand. You wish you knew what to say, how to make the pain go away. Wish you’d kept him distracted and engaged long enough to stop him from spiralling.

“Have you ever wondered about the meaning of life?” Bob finally turned around to look at you. His eyes… They were different. 

“Hasn’t everyone?” You finally answered. 

“There is none. An answer, I mean. Because there is no meaning to life. You get born, deal with the cards you’re dealt, live life and then you die. Your memory lives on for a couple of generations, if you’re lucky. But most of us? We’re like a nostalgic scent you pick up on a random afternoon; You know you remember the smell, but won’t ever remember what it is.” He rambled. He turned back to look out the window. He gazed at the cars passing, the lights in the buildings. 

“Nothing matters. Yet everything does. I just want it to stop,” his voice cracked. You felt tears well up in your eyes. He understood his feelings, yet the thought of them ever changing was inconceivable. 

He’d appeared angry before. What you were scared of initially was his anger. You knew now there was only one thing you had to fear. The darkness. The heartache. The hopelessness. 

Spiralling was easy. Climbing back up? That was the hard part. 

You walked into the kitchen and put on the kettle, pulling out two mugs and dropping teabags into them. You added an extra teaspoon of sugar into his before pouring the boiling water. He didn’t speak as you made the tea. 

You walked back into the living room and handed him a mug, joining him in gazing out the window. He took the mug and when you sat down on the cold floor, he joined you. 

You sat there in silence, looking out on the New York skyline, for what felt like hours. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could do that would solve what he was going through. 

He drank the tea when the temperature allowed it. You sipped your own and tried to find a constellation in the sky, but no stars were visible above the bright city. It was ironic, in a sense. All Bob had to do was find the stars to guide him home. But how could he do that when the sky was polluted with light? 

It was on the floor where he eventually fell asleep. You felt your own eyes drooping, too. You kept watch over him as he slept. He needed it. You grabbed a few pillows from the couch along with a blanket and made him as comfortable as you could without waking him up. 

Your tea had long gone cold when you placed your mug on the counter along with Bob’s. The loud city was somehow peaceful when you looked at it from this high up. You could understand why he sought it out as a place of solace. It could’ve been minutes or hours before the night finally took you, but you stayed right there by his side, on the floor.

CHAPTER 6

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki @chimchoom @spidermiraculous-blog @s00ty-feet @28cnn @tinythebunni @softpia @roeroeroeyourboet @secretkittydreamland @cultish-corner @greenbean-4ever @t-rexs-world @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @ifilwtmfc @renren-006 @10ava01 @kawaii1369 @hawkinsavclub1983 @paleepeaches @lnmp89

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 2: Caught on Camera

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Fandom: Women's basketball

Paring: Paige Bueckers x ! Photographer fem reader

Summary: is this thing still on?... I hope not....

Welcome to chapter 2 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸... if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know!

Avoidance was becoming a bad habit of mine. After the incident with Paige and my shattered camera turned into an internet meme, I couldn’t bring myself to face her—or the team, for that matter. Every social media platform I opened featured the clip: Paige’s epic block, the ball ricocheting, and the destruction of my beloved camera. People had even started adding exaggerated sound effects and captions like, "When life hits you hard…literally."

To make matters worse, Paige addressed the incident during a post-game interview, her sheepish smile making me squirm every time I replayed it in my mind.

“It was an accident,” she had said, laughing softly. “I feel really bad about it. Y/N’s an amazing photographer, and I hope I haven’t scared her off for good.”

Her words made my chest ache, but I still avoided the team practices. I stuck to photographing games with my new camera, keeping my distance from the players—especially Paige.

That’s where KK came in.

“Y/N, you can’t avoid us forever,” KK said, sliding into the seat beside me in class one afternoon. Her tone was light, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes that I didn’t trust.

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” I replied defensively, keeping my gaze on my notes.

“Right,” KK said with a smirk. “That’s why you haven’t shown up to practice all week.”

I sighed, slumping in my chair. “It’s just… easier this way.”

KK rolled her eyes. “You know Paige feels terrible, right? She keeps asking about you.”

My stomach flipped, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. “I’m fine. She doesn’t have to worry about me.”

KK didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought I’d won the argument—until she spoke again, her voice casual.

“Hey, can you stop by the gym tonight? Coach wants to see some of the practice shots you’ve taken for the project.”

I frowned, suspicious. “Coach? Why would he need to see them now?”

KK shrugged, her expression unreadable. “I don’t make the rules. Just swing by, okay?”

That’s how I found myself at the gym later that evening, camera in hand. The space was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound as I stepped inside.

“Coach?” I called out, my voice echoing.

Instead of Coach, Paige emerged from the shadows, her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice soft.

I froze, my grip tightening on my camera. “Paige? What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, the gym doors slammed shut behind me, and I turned to see KK waving through the glass window with a wide grin.

“You two need to talk,” KK shouted, her voice muffled by the door. “I’ll let you out in the morning!”

“KK!” I yelled, rushing to the door, but it was locked tight.

Paige let out a small laugh, drawing my attention back to her. “Well, I guess we’re stuck together.”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. When I returned, Paige was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the court, my camera in her hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Paige glanced up at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I figured I’d record something for you. An apology, I guess.”

Before I could respond, she pressed a button, and the red recording light blinked off—at least, I thought it did.

“Can we talk?” Paige asked, setting the camera aside.

I hesitated before nodding, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry,” she began, her voice sincere. “About your camera, about everything. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know,” I said quietly, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “It’s just… hard. That camera meant a lot to me, and now everyone’s laughing about it like it’s some big joke.”

Paige’s expression softened, and she scooted closer, her knee brushing against mine. “I get it. I’d hate being the center of a meme, too. But you’re more than that clip, Y/N. Your work is incredible, and I’ve seen the way you capture the game—like you see things the rest of us miss.”

Her words made my chest tighten, and I looked away, feeling vulnerable under her gaze.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

Paige reached out, her hand resting lightly on mine. “I mean it. You’re amazing.”

I glanced up, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed

to fade away. Her gaze was steady and warm, filled with an honesty that made my heart stutter.

“Paige…” I started, but my voice faltered.

She gave me a small, lopsided smile, her fingers brushing over mine. “I know I messed up, but I want to make it right. Not just with the camera—but with you. Can we… start over?”

I hesitated, the weight of everything between us making it hard to breathe. But then I saw the earnestness in her expression, the vulnerability she rarely let show.

“Okay,” I said softly, nodding. “We can start over.”

A small laugh escaped her, almost a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I really don’t want you avoiding me anymore.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I lied, though we both knew the truth.

She smirked, leaning back slightly. “Right. You just conveniently disappeared every time I was around?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, maybe I was avoiding you. But only because I didn’t know how to face you after everything.”

“Well,” Paige said, tilting her head, “now you’re stuck with me until KK decides to let us out. So, no more avoiding.”

I chuckled, the tension between us easing slightly. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

We spent the next few hours talking—about basketball, photography, school, and everything in between. Paige was easy to talk to, her laugh infectious and her stories captivating. For the first time in weeks, I felt at ease.

At some point, exhaustion caught up to us, and we ended up lying on the court, our heads close together as we stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Paige turned her head to look at me, her expression thoughtful. “All the time. The WNBA feels so close, but at the same time, I’m scared of what it means to leave everything here behind.”

I nodded, understanding her fear. “Change is scary. But you’ll do amazing—you always do.”

Her gaze lingered on me, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” I replied, my words steady.

We fell into a comfortable silence, and before I knew it, I drifted off, the warmth of Paige’s presence lulling me to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of muffled laughter. Blinking against the light, I realized Paige and I were still lying on the court, her arm draped over me in a way that felt impossibly natural.

“What do we have here?” KK’s voice rang out, teasing and triumphant.

I sat up quickly, my face burning as I saw KK and Azzi standing near the gym doors, their grins wide and mischievous.

“Did you two have a good night?” Azzi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paige groaned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “Seriously, KK? Was this really necessary?”

KK shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Hey, you two needed to work things out. Mission accomplished, right?”

I glanced at Paige, my embarrassment fading slightly as she gave me a small, knowing smile.

“Yeah,” she said, her tone light but sincere. “Mission accomplished.”

As we stood to leave, I grabbed my camera from where it had been resting on the sidelines. A sinking feeling hit me when I noticed the recording light still blinking.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, quickly stopping the recording.

Paige looked over, her eyes widening as realization dawned. “Wait… was that on the whole time?”

I nodded, mortified.

KK burst out laughing. “Guess we’re gonna have some very interesting footage to review!”

Paige and I exchanged a look, equal parts embarrassed and amused. Maybe this wasn’t the worst way to start over after all.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza .... (more to be added)

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 4: Simple Truths (and Lies)

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 8k

contains: mentions of past relationship trauma/cheating, language, alcohol, fluff, angst

description: right when you and sevika have independently come to an acceptance, a surprise guest changes the course of your relationship.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous | next // sevika masterlist

The next time you see Sevika, it’s a little awkward, you’ll admit, but you can’t help the thoughts running through your head.

Should you hug her as a greeting now? Are you looking at her differently? Oh god, did she feel the same?

Overthinking was always an issue for you but you feel like this situation has made it so much worse. You haven’t talked about it with your roommates much, partly because they’d ask more questions, but mostly because you weren’t sure it was even worth discussing. Okay, yeah, you’ll admit, you had a teeny tiny schoolgirl crush on Sevika, but wouldn’t anyone? If anything, that just proves you’re human.

And maybe a little horny, it has been a while, actually…

As far as you can tell, Sevika hasn’t been acting any different around you, and you’ll take that as a positive sign, at least your crush isn’t obvious and creeping her out. Although, as much as you want to believe that’s a good thing, a small part of you is hurt. One sided feelings were nothing new to you, but it was a bit soul crushing that you were still going through this as an adult.

Sevika’s internal struggles are mirrored in yours, with the addition of one other thing: her denial. She’s been trying extremely hard to tell herself that it was nothing, just a friendly little dinner. Maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll drive away the memories from that night, how you were sitting on her couch, so close, the soft smile on your face when talking to her girls. She’s annoyed that she can’t look at you without a warm feeling filling her chest or her thoughts running a mile a minute.

Groaning, she slams the hood of her car shut, not being able to focus on what she was working on.

“Everything okay, Sev?”

Refocusing her eyes and looking over her shoulder, she glares at one of her oldest friends before remembering he’d been there a while and schools her face into something more neutral. Seeing her expression, Vander chuckles, being on the receiving end of Sevika’s death stares was nothing new to him.

“Um, yeah. Just thinking, I guess.”

“About what? I thought you were gonna break the damn hood off closing it like that.”

A smile threatens to break through Sevika’s expression but she’s able to contain it.

“Mm, just this project Powder’s been working on, the one she was telling you guys about the other day.”

Vander raises an eyebrow at that. He knew Sevika had a lot on her plate, but a science project that wasn’t even hers didn’t seem like reason enough for her sulky mood.

“Right…it’s been that stressful?”

Sevika’s mouth twitches at that, almost opening her mouth to tell Vander the truth but deciding against it. Vander sees the internal struggle written clearly on her face and decides to call her out on it. Their friendship is nothing if not brutally honest, and he’ll be damned if they start keeping secrets now.

“Sev, what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird the last couple weeks, especially when Powder talks about her project. You’re not as good of a liar as you think, at least not with me.”

Sevika lets out a quiet sigh at that, knowing she’s been caught. She doesn’t really know why she’s been hesitant to tell Vander about you, hell, he’s heard all the details about her past relationships, even the ones he’d rather not know. That’s just how close they are. This time just felt…different. More important, somehow? She didn’t know how else to describe it.

The longer Sevika takes to respond, the more worried Vander gets, and his mind starts drifting to bad scenarios.

“Wait, it’s nothing to do with the girls, right? Or you, you’re not sick or something?”

That instantly snaps Sevika out of her thoughts.

“No! It’s nothing bad, nothing like that, we’re all fine. It’s just, um…I…”

She pushes past Vander to make sure the door to the house is closed, the last thing she needs is her girls overhearing this conversation. Walking back over to him, she takes a seat on her work bench and Vander does the same, patiently waiting for her to finish her thought.

“I might have a thing for Powder’s teacher. The one helping with the science fair thing.”

Sevika rubs a hand over her face at that, she can’t believe she said that out loud. After a few seconds of silence, she looks over at Vander, who has a shit eating grin on his face.

“No fuckin’ way. I wanna talk shit but you look embarrassed enough.”

Sevika punches his shoulder at that, Vander only slightly flinching but laughing regardless.

“Fuck off…”, she grumbles, heat starting to creep up her neck.

Vander gets up from the bench and walks over to the fridge in the corner, grabbing two beers and handing one to Sevika as he sits back down. The two of them open the beers bare handed, clinking them together before taking a sip. Vander decides to broach the subject again, hoping he’ll get a better result.

“So, what’s she like? Better yet, you got a picture?”

Sevika just shakes her head, laughing. Her first instinct was to shrug the question off, but then the image of you popped into her mind and she couldn’t help but smile.

“She is…so smart. Like obviously she’s a teacher, but we’ve talked about a lot of things and she knows a little about all of it. Really nerdy too, but I also kind of expected that.”

Memories of you float through her head and she just lets herself ramble, much to Vander’s amusement.

“She’s well read, we’ve swapped books a couple times now and we always have long discussions after. Big on sci fi movies too, she stayed for movie night not too long ago after we had dinner here and it was really nice, the girls adore her.”

Vander takes a pause from drinking his beer and turns to look at Sevika.

“Hold on, she had dinner here and you didn’t tell me anything? Was this before or after Silco and I came back from our trip?”

Sevika clears her throat, side eyeing Vander sheepishly.

“After…”

Vander scoffs, jaw dropping as his eyes widen.

“Sev! How long has this been going on, you haven’t told me shit!”

She rolls her eyes at that, gay people are so dramatic.

“We officially met a couple months ago when we first moved here, Powder was having some trouble with a kid in her class and we had to have a parent/teacher conference. And then she asked Powder to join this science fair thing and it’s a full time project so we have to meet up almost every day, it’s been a lot.”

She eventually just spills everything, from Halloween night to how she started giving you food to take home to how she’s caught you looking at her before. Vander is shaking his head the entire time Sevika is talking, he can’t believe his best friend has been withholding all of this information from him.

“Wow, I’m hurt. You finally meet someone half decent and don’t tell me about it, I thought we were closer than that.”

Sevika cackles at that, elbowing him in the ribcage.

“Don’t even, I barely admitted it to myself. I can’t go around having a crush on my kid’s teacher.”

“And why not?”

Sevika pauses, beer halfway to her mouth before she lowers her hand and turns towards Vander.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why can’t you have a crush on her? Or heavens forbid, ask her out?”

She starts sputtering at that, half baked excuses spilling out of her mouth.

“Well— because— that wouldn’t be right—“

“And why not? You’re both two consenting adults, and from everything you just told me, she’s got a crush too.”

Sevika’s ears burn at that, there’s no way that’s true. Who would want all the baggage she comes with, especially someone like you, you could have anyone you wanted.

“You don’t know that, she’s probably just being nice. Probably talks like that to all the parents or whatever.”

Vander laughs at her again, shaking his head in disbelief at the woman in front of him. Sevika’s frown just deepens as he continues chuckling.

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? I haven’t seen you talk about anyone like this since…”

He bites his words, catching himself before he brings up something he’s sure Sevika doesn’t want to talk about.

“Sev, I didn’t mean to—“

He’s cut off by Sevika shaking her head and sighing.

“Don’t, it’s fine. I just….fuck, it’s really been that long?”

Vander nods at that, realizing that she hadn’t dated anyone in a couple of years.

“Yeah, it has. You haven’t even hooked up with anyone, you’re basically a nun.”

Sevika playfully glares at him, flicking him on the ear.

“And what’s wrong with that? I’m focusing on myself and my girls, that’s all I need to be happy.”

Vander gives her a dubious look at that, knowing her well enough to know that it was bullshit.

“Oh really? So you’re trying to tell me you don’t miss any physical affection? Not even a little?”

Sevika bristles at that, trying to deny the truth in his words. She was never an overly affectionate person, and didn’t mind going without it for a while, but lately it was starting to bug her.

“I’m doing fine, don’t worry about it.”

The dismissive tone in Sevika’s voice just made Vander roll his eyes, no way was he buying that lie.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that bullshit. I know you’re a damn good mom, but I also know you’re not a robot. You still have needs.”

Sevika sighs at that, taking a swig of her beer before responding.

“And? I’m not gonna go out and look for a one night stand just for that, I’m not that desperate.”

“No one is saying that, but if you hit it off with this woman, then you can get the emotional and the physical together, it’s a win-win.”

Sevika rubs the back of her neck, the mental image of you and her together suddenly popping up in her head, completely involuntarily.

“I don’t know. It’s not that simple, we’re both too old to be acting like this.”

Vander rolls his eyes at that, once again wondering how the hell this woman could be so smart yet so damn oblivious.

“Too old to be acting like what? To go after something you want?”

Sevika sighs and rubs her forehead. She knows she’s going to lose this argument, but still she pushes on.

“It’s a terrible idea, she’s my kid’s teacher for fuck’s sake. If she’s not interested, we’ll still have to be around each other the rest of this school year, and maybe the next, Powder’s only in eleventh grade. Not to mention when Isha gets to high school–”

Vander scoffs at that, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re making so many assumptions right now, how the hell do you know how she might react? Also, how is any of this a bad thing? A woman who’s good with your kids, who you're attracted to, who you say seems just as interested, how could you pass that up?”

Sevika’s mind reels as she tries to think of a rebuttal, but all she can think about is you, how sweet you are to her girls, how your conversations seemed to last hours without her noticing.

Vander frowns at Sevika, seeing the battle in her eyes as she tries to rationalize her thoughts. He leans back in the chair, sipping on his beer before speaking.

“You’re really scared to take a chance, huh?”

Sevika drops her head and sighs, her whole body suddenly feeling tired.

“I just don’t have another failed relationship left in me. Every time I decide to give someone a chance, they show me exactly why I shouldn’t have. I’m getting too old for this.”

Vander’s expression softens at that, hating how her heart had been repeatedly broken.

“Sev, you’re not too old for anything. Yeah, you’ve had some bad exes, but you can’t let them stop you from trying again.”

Sevika just rolls her eyes, downing the rest of her beer.

“Easy for you to say, you and Silco have been together for years.”

“And it didn’t happen by chance that we ended up together. I’m the one who made the first move, remember?”

Sevika remembers that day very clearly. Vander and Silco’s awkward flirting, her eventual eye roll that got them to just get it over with and get together was one for the books. Vander catches Sevika’s look and smirks at her, leaning forward.

“Don’t you ever get tired of waiting for something to happen on its own? It’s never gonna pan out that way, you know this.”

Sevika lets out a shaky breath, her mind playing a cruel, torturous movie in her head. All of her previous relationships flashed before her, with each ending in pain and anguish. She clenches her hands, her jaw, every part of her body suddenly tense. Vander sees the pain in her eyes, but refuses to let up, knowing that she needs the push. He knows she won’t admit to it, but she’s been lonely. And she deserves to be happy.

“C’mon, even you have to admit that she’s different. You said it yourself, she’s smart, caring, and she’s been helping out so much with Powder.”

Vander may not have met you yet, but Sevika has never talked about anyone this fondly, and that says enough to him.

“You can’t tell me that it doesn’t mean anything to you, how she seems to care about the girls. I seriously doubt they would like some random teacher this much.”

Sevika slumps in her seat, completely defeated. She knows he’s right, every single point he made was correct. Sighing and looking back up, she sees the smug smile on Vander’s face.

“I hate you.”

He just chuckles at that, patting her on the shoulder.

“Yeah, you love me. You know I’m not trying to give you a hard time, you just need a kick in the ass to get on with it sometimes.”

Sevika opens her mouth to give a sarcastic reply when the garage door opens and Isha pops in, running to her mom and climbing onto the bench.

Uncle Silco said dinner’s ready.

Vander scoops her up before anyone can react, and Isha’s laughs can be heard the entire way he carries her inside.

Taking a moment longer to gather her thoughts, Sevika lets out a sigh and stands up, heading inside to have dinner with her family.

The next week at school is finals week, and you’re definitely feeling it. Between tests and projects, you’re swamped with grading, and Powder and Ekko’s science fair submissions are also due at the beginning of next week, so you’ve gotta look over those to make sure they’re up to standard.

You’ve barely had time to eat or sleep, so you haven’t been in contact with Sevika as much as usual, much to her dismay. Powder keeps her in the loop so she knows it’s a busy time at school, but still, after her conversation with Vander, she was eager to see you in person, or at least talk on the phone.

Opportunity finally knocks on a Friday morning when you text her after days of radio silence.

“Hey, is it okay if I swing by after school to check on Powder’s project? I wanna make sure it all looks good before submissions on Monday.”

The grin that threatens to split her face catches the attention of none other than her best friend, and he walks over to see what’s got Sevika so giddy.

“Teach finally get back to you?”

She looks up from her phone, becoming aware of the expression on her face and dissolving it immediately.

“Yeah, she wants to come over tonight to look at Powder’s project.”

Vander’s eyes shine with a mischievous glint and one eyebrow slightly raised as he responds.

“Oh? What time, me and Silco were planning on coming over for dinner.”

Sevika huffs at that.

“Since when? I thought Fridays were date nights for you two.”

“Since right now. I wanna meet this elusive woman.”

With a roll of her eyes, Sevika just gives your message a thumbs ups and slides her phone into her back pocket. She’ll text you a specific time later.

“You make her sound like she’s a figment of my imagination.”

“Well you still haven’t shown me a picture of her, so for now, that’s exactly how I’m picturing her.”

Vander has a smug expression on, but Sevika refuses to give him the satisfaction of showing what you look like. Not that she has any pictures anyway, all your social media accounts are private, and she barely knows how to Google so that’s out of the question.

“And that’s how I like it. Get back to work, that engine’s not gonna fix itself.”

Sevika walks into the office and sends you a message telling you to come over between six and seven.

Maybe she’ll be able to convince you to stay for dinner again.

You’re in the middle of scarfing down your lunch when your phone buzzes and you see that Sevika responded to you. Hearting the message, you finish your food and get back to grading final tests, hoping to be done by the time you have to go over.

That evening, around five, a knock at the front door resounds throughout the house, and Sevika pokes her head out from the kitchen. Looking over her shoulder, she sees Silco and Vander sitting in the living room with Isha and Powder, playing some board game they brought with them from their last vacation.

Walking to the front door, she’s a bit confused, you’ve never shown up an hour early, and you didn’t text her you were on your way like you usually do. Not bothering to look through the peephole, she opens the front door and her jaw drops.

“Vi!”

She reaches out and engulfs the girl in a hug, lifting her off the ground in the process.

“Hey Sev.”

The muffled reply makes Sevika laugh, and she puts Vi down, grabbing her shoulders so she can get a better look at her.

“What are you doing here, I thought you weren’t getting back ‘til next wee— Did you cut your hair?”

Sevika brushes her hand onto the side of Vi’s head, feeling the prickliness there.

“It suits you.”

“That’s what I said.”

A voice Sevika doesn’t recognize speaks up, and she slowly turns her head towards the source. A girl stands there, the same age as Vi, wearing a coat way fancier than anything she’s ever owned. The moment Sevika makes eye contact with her, the girl’s smile drops and an air of nervousness surrounds her.

“And who might you be?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Caitlyn, Kiramman, I’m Vi’s fr—“

“Girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend.”

Sevika glances back towards Vi, eyebrow raised. She’s never mentioned a girlfriend in all the phone calls and video chats they’ve had this year.

Looking back towards the girl, Caitlyn, she decides to ask her the questions running through her head.

“Since when?”

Caitlyn starts rambling, reeking of anxiety.

“Well, um we started talking at the beginning of this year, but it didn’t get serious until the spring, and then over summer break we made it official—“

Sevika cuts her off, just wanting a straight answer.

“Months. How many months?”

“Oh! Um, six? Six.”

A nervous smile creeps onto her face, and her eyes bounce back and forth between Sevika and Vi, the latter pinching the bridge of her nose in embarrassment. She knew the introductions would go like this.

“Right…and you two are official enough to start meeting each other’s families?”

That’s when Vi steps in, moving to stand next to Caitlyn and interlock their fingers.

“Yeah. I’ve already met her family, and they like me.”

“Hm.”

Sevika’s gaze flits back and forth between the two teenagers, deciding how to go about this.

Obviously Vi is serious about this girl if she’s bringing her home, but the fact that she just sprung this on her without any warning warrants a conversation.

Later though, it’s cold and Sevika didn’t grab a coat before opening the door.

“Well… Caitlyn?”

The girl nods, an actual smile gracing her face now, and even Vi’s mouth quirks up.

Sevika sticks her hand out in greeting, now that the shock has worn off.

“It’s nice to meet you, you can call me Sevika.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widen at the sheer size of her hand, but she takes it in her own, making sure to firmly shake it and keep eye contact with Sevika while doing so.

“Pleasure to meet you, as well.”

Sevika nods, maybe this girl isn’t as meek as she looks.

“Let’s head inside, it’s cold out here.”

Sevika steps aside and lets the two girls walk in first, helping with their bags before shutting the door and walking over to the living room, noticing the concerned looks Silco and Vander are sending her over the now forgotten game.

“Relax, everything’s fine.”

She smiles big.

“We just had some unexpected guests.”

Moving out of the way so everyone can see who was at the door, Powder and Isha run to Vi, crushing her in a hug on either side.

“No way, I thought you weren’t getting here until next week!”

Vi hugs her sisters back with equally as much enthusiasm, even lifting Isha up into her arms.

“Yeah, I took my finals ahead of time so we decided to head down early.”

At that very moment, all eyes in the room realize there’s another person there, and it goes silent.

“Um, hi everyone, I’m Caitlyn, Vi’s fr— girlfriend.”

She lightly waves, unsure of what else to say. Sevika takes the opportunity to stand next to her and clap a hand on her shoulder. The girl is just as tall as her, she realizes, but that doesn’t change her approach.

“Yup, her girlfriend, so Powder, why don’t you set an extra place for her at the table?”

Forcing a smile, Powder laughs and walks into the kitchen, grabbing one more of everything.

Making sure none of the adults can see her, she catches Vi’s eye and mouths I thought you guys broke up?

Vi replies long story, I’ll tell you later to which Powder just chuckles to herself and walks back to the couch.

“I’m gonna go finish dinner, girls, why don’t you join everyone in the living room? I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

Sevika makes sure to give Vander a look that says keep an eye on them and he nods with a smile, knowing exactly what she means.

Almost another hour passes, and Sevika’s just about to start serving the food when the doorbell rings. She quickly checks her phone, and yup, you text her that you were on your way a few minutes ago.

“I’ll get it!”

Letting out a sigh, Sevika checks herself in the mirror in the entryway, making sure no messy hair or stray food crumbs are visible, and answers the door.

“Hey.”

Your usual beaming smile is instead replaced by a tired one, and it’s not reaching your eyes the way it normally does.

“Hi.”

Sevika’s mouth twists into a slight frown at the sight of you.

“Rough day?”

You let out a weary sigh and nod, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, this week’s been hell. I don’t think I’ve slept more than five hours combined in the last few days.”

Seeing you like this doesn’t sit right with Sevika. She’s never seen you so run down before, and she wishes she could do something about it.

“Sounds about right, but on the bright side, it’s all over after this weekend.”

This gets an actual smile out of you, the first one of the day.

“That’s pretty much the only thing keeping me going.”

Sevika chuckles and stands to the side, gesturing you inside.

“Come on in, I’ve got food on the stove but I’m sure the girls would be happy to see you.”

You give her another smile and walk through the doorway, Sevika not realizing that she was holding her breath until you’re all the way in.

After kicking your shoes off and placing your bag in the corner, Sevika guides you over to the couch where Silco, Vander, and the two younger girls are sitting.

Hearing footsteps, Powder and Isha turn around and jump up immediately upon seeing you.

“Teach, hi!”

You give them each hugs, seeing them definitely boosts your mood and Sevika notices.

Upon hearing someone clearing their throat, you and Sevika both look over at the two men sitting on the couch, wearing matching grins.

“Oh right, this is Vander, my best friend and coworker, and next to him is Silco, my other best friend and Vander’s husband and our boss.”

The two of them stand up and make their way over to you, shaking your hand as you introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you both, it’s good to know there’s even more adults in the girls’ lives. It truly takes a village.”

That gets a chuckle out of them, and they nod as Vander answers you.

“It definitely does, especially when Sevika first took the girls in, it was all hands on deck. But I’d say they turned out all right.”

He punctuates his sentence by clapping his hand on Sevika’s shoulder and winking.

She rolls her eyes at him, looking at you to say something snarky about him, but it gets caught in her throat when she sees that you’re already looking her way, eyes locked onto hers, a curious look in them.

First took the girls in?

Sevika quickly looks away and clears her throat, scanning the room and looking for a change in subject.

“We should go check on Powder’s project! Don’t wanna keep you here longer than you have to be.”

You nod your head at that, remembering what you came over for.

“Yeah, of course.”

Vander and Silco sit back down on the couch, Isha following, continuing their game from before.

“I’ll show you, teach.”

Powder leads you into the garage, Sevika starting to follow behind until a realization pops into her head.

“Where’s Vi?”

“Oh, she said she had to grab something from her room.”

Vander replied nonchalantly, but something doesn’t seem quite right.

“And the girlfriend?”

“She— oh.”

Sevika groans, heading down the hallway to Vi’s room, turning the handle to open the door, but it’s locked.

Sevika grumbles and starts knocking, loud enough to alert the entire neighborhood if need be.

“Vi!”

A couple seconds pass and there’s no response. Sevika knocks again, even more loudly.

“Vi!”

Sevika presses her ear up to the door to hear a shuffling noise on the other side, but nothing else.

Gritting her teeth, it takes everything in Sevika to not knock the door down, knowing you’re in the house.

She’s been through this with Vi before, her rebellious phase in high school cost Sevika more than a few grey hairs.

“Vi, open the damn door, now!”

There’s another shuffle on the other side, but nothing more after that. Sevika’s just about to try the door again when it finally opens, revealing a sheepish looking Vi.

Sevika crosses her arms and glares daggers into her daughter.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing in there?”

Vi winces, she knows what it looks like, but she scrambles to explain herself.

“Caitlyn was taking a nap! That’s all it was, I swear. Well, we were taking a nap, I guess, but I locked the door out of habit, not because we were doing anything. We just had a long drive.”

Sevika’s eyebrow is arched, and she peers into the room to see Caitlyn laid on the bed, soft snores coming from her.

“That girl must be one hell of a heavy sleeper, I was knocking on the door good.”

Vi nods in agreement.

“She is, she sleeps through all the fire alarms at school.”

As soon as the sentence escapes her mouth, Vi squeezes her lips together and Sevika just sighs.

Remembering how she acted at this age, she couldn’t fault Vi too much, but she was still going to set boundaries.

“Look, Vi…if you’re both gonna stay here, we need some ground rules. You guys don’t sleep in the same room, she can stay on the pullout couch for the time being, and if the two of you are gonna hang out, it needs to be where I can see you, with the door open.”

Vi sighs, knowing that she’s being completely reasonable, especially with her history.

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Sevika puts a hand on her hip and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m trusting you, kid. Don’t make me regret it.”

Sevika walks back into the living room, but not before making sure Vi’s door is wide open.

Heading into the garage, she sees you and Powder looking over her project, using scientific terms that are lost on her.

You hear Sevika walk in and look up, shooting her a warm smile. She stands over the two of you, watching the project closely.

Feeling her presence, Powder looks up at her, but there’s a mischievous glimmer in her eyes that she hides when the two of you look at her.

“I need to go ask Vi something, I’ll be right back!”

Powder leaves before either of you can say anything, and you realize you’re alone with Sevika for the first time in a while.

Sevika can practically feel the weight of being alone with you, it’s making her heart thrum with such intensity, she wonders how you can’t hear it.

Clearing her throat, she nods at the project.

“It looks really good.”

You let out a content sigh, staring at the piece in front of you.

“Yeah, it looks even better than I imagined, she’s really talented. As long as she nails the oral presentation, I think she’s in.”

Sevika nods, crossing her arms, not knowing what else to say. She steals a quick glance at you and is stunned by how amazing you look even under the fluorescent lights of the garage.

She quickly looks away, heat crawling up her face. Her thoughts running all over the place, the silence in the garage is deafening. It’s never been this awkward with you, but she’s too in her own head to relax.

Sensing the anticipation in the air, you turn towards her, but Sevika quickly looks away. You realize that there’s been an underlying level of tension between the two of you, one that you’ve been trying to justify, but it’s suddenly become hard to do so now that you’re standing next to her and the tension is permeating the room.

Taking a step towards her, unable to help yourself, her eyes dart up to yours, unsure of what you’re doing.

“You sure? You seem…off.”

Reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder, the feel of her muscle under your palm sends a jolt of warmth through your system.

Sevika’s cheeks begin to heat up, and she’s suddenly thankful her blush isn’t visible.

She feels like she’s burning under your touch, the feeling sending her mind into a whirl, and before she can think, she reaches up and covers your hand with her own.

“I’m fine, I swear, I’m not sick.”

You open your mouth to say something when the door opens and the two of you break apart immediately.

“Hey, Sev—“

A girl you don’t recognize walks in, but you see a resemblance to Powder, so you assume she’s the oldest daughter you’ve seen in pictures around the house.

Sevika curses under her breath, and her skin is still on fire from your touch.

“What is it, Vi?”

She rubs her forehead, trying to bring her heartbeat down to its normal rate.

“Uncle Silco’s asking where the extra chairs are…who’s this?”

Sevika’s mind takes a second to catch up to the conversation before answering.

“This is Powder’s teacher, she was just finishing up looking over her project—“

Vi’s eyes widen and her lips curl into a smile, she’s heard all about you from both her sisters.

“Ah, okay. Nice to finally meet you, Powder talks about you a lot.”

You smile at that, albeit a bit nervously.

“All good things, I hope.”

Vi just nods, not giving you much to go on.

“Yeah. You know, you look really familiar.”

Suddenly, she cocks her head and you’re unsure if you like her tone.

“Oh?”

Eyebrows furrow at that, you don’t know where you’d know each other from considering you never had Vi as a student.

And she’s definitely too young to hang out at the lesbian bar you like.

She shrugs, giving an air of nonchalance but there’s something in her eyes you can’t quite place.

“I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Sevika looks between the two of you, confusion laced in her features. The air feels stuffy, and she feels the need to break the sudden tension.

“Dinner’s about ready guys, we should head in.”

The unofficial staring contest between you and Vi is broken and you both look at Sevika, Vi nodding and you giving her a small smile.

Vi heads in first, with you following and Sevika bringing up the rear.

Once you’re all in the kitchen, you see another girl you don’t recognize talking with the two men you met earlier.

“Guys, come sit down! You too, Caitlyn.”

Sevika calls everyone over to the table, and she introduces you to the unfamiliar face when she gets close enough.

“Oh, sorry, this is Caitlyn, Vi’s girlfriend.”

You smile at the teenager, shaking her hand in a polite manner and introducing yourself as well.

You’re about to tell Sevika that you’re going to head out when Powder asks if you’ll be staying for dinner.

Truth be told, you’d never turn down Sevika’s cooking, but with the addition of their two uncles and Vi and her girlfriend, you don’t feel like adding to the crowd.

“I would, but I’ve got to finish grading finals by this weekend and—“

“They’ll still be there when you get back, we’d love to get to know you better.”

Your eyes flick over to the taller of the two men, Vander, you remember. Silco sitting next to him smacks his arm, reminding him of his manners.

“Don’t cut her off, babe, that’s rude.”

Vander just chuckles and lays his arm on the back of his chair, squeezing his shoulder.

“My apologies. I just meant, we’d love for you to stay but if you have work to get back to, we understand.”

Flashing him a tight smile, you open your mouth to answer when another voice speaks up.

“You should stay. Seriously.”

Vi’s sitting at the table pouring herself something to drink when she looks up at you expectantly. For some reason, her asking feels more serious and you feel obligated to say yes.

Vander sees the surprise on your face at Vi’s request and tries to keep the curiosity off his own. Sevika can’t help but mirror his thoughts, finding it surprising that Vi seems to want you to stay. You look around the table, seeing all eyes waiting on you to answer.

“Well, I guess I’ll have time tomorrow…”

“Great, glad to have you.”

Sevika says it louder than she intended to, but seeing the smile appear on your face makes her regret it less. Powder grins from across the table and gets up to set an extra place for you. You’re seated directly across from Vi, which makes you a bit nervous but you try to brush it off.

Despite the initial awkwardness between the two of you, there’s a lot of chatter during dinner.

Silco and Vander get into a heated debate over some new law the city council is proposing. Powder is explaining to Caitlyn why her project works the way it does and gets lost in the technical jargon, Isha asking questions once in a while.

Sevika and you spend the entire dinner in your own world, the time spent apart catching up to you both and you’ve almost forgotten how much you enjoy her company. Vi watches the two of you engrossed in each other, but she stays silent.

That changes towards the end of dinner when she directs a question towards you that makes you wish you’d never accepted the invitation tonight.

“Wait, I think I remember where I know you from. Do you know someone named Gert?”

You almost drop your fork. There’s no way she’s talking about the same person you’re thinking about, right?

“Gert…?”

Vi goes on to describe exactly who you were dreading she meant, and it makes you feel sick. You try to swallow down your nausea and figure out where this conversation is going.

“What about her? How do you know her?”

Your answer sounds a bit more defensive than you meant it to be, but Sevika hears the slight shift in your tone.

Vi picks up on it as well, and a look you can’t read flickers across her face. She shrugs and replies nonchalantly.

“Oh, me and her daughter are close friends, we used to go to school together.”

Shifting in her chair to lean forward a little, Vi locks eyes with you to see how you’ll react.

“Is that right?”

You don’t like where this is going, but with all eyes at the table on you, choosing your words carefully is important.

Breaking eye contact with you, Vi starts scraping her fork on her plate.

“Yeah, I remember her telling me about someone her mom was dating a few years back. A teacher, chemistry teacher, actually.”

Your breathing starts picking up, but you try not to let any emotion show.

“They even ended up getting engaged. But right before the wedding, the woman called it off. No explanation, nothing.”

Your eyes close in frustration, that is not what happened but of course that’s what Gert told people. At this point, everyone else’s conversations have slowly faded away and they’re all tuned into this one.

“Not until later on, people found out that Gert’s fianceé was having an affair and that’s why she called off the wedding.”

Eyes snapping open, your jaw clenches but you can’t bring yourself to say anything, frozen in shock and anger and sadness. You’ve spent years trying to heal from that event in your life, and now it’s being brought up with no regard for the truth.

“So that’s why you ended up moving here? To get away from what you did to that family?”

That causes Sevika to break from her trance and she speaks up.

“Vi, what are you talking about?”

The teenager ignores her, opting to lean back in her chair and cross her arms, locking eyes with you.

Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. You can’t get out the explanation you want to give, the truth.

It was the other way around, Gert cheated on you and you called off the wedding when you found out. You only moved because you couldn’t take seeing her around town, surrounded by the memories of your former life. But the panic settling in your chest prevented you from saying any of that.

“Um, I…”

Your fight or flight kicked in, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t choose fight.

Maybe it was because you were caught off guard, or because it was in front of people you cared about, but you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to go, I’m sorry.”

Scrambling up from the table, you shoot Sevika an apologetic look and rush to the door, grabbing your things and slamming it on your way out.

The entire table is silent, and Sevika is fuming.

“Everyone out.”

Sevika keeps her tone level, but her look is hard enough to have even Silco and Vander standing up without question.

“Um, girls, let’s go to the store and get some dessert, yeah? You too, Caitlyn.”

They rush out the door with the girls in tow, leaving Vi and Sevika in a silent staring contest.

“What in the hell was that about?”

Sevika didn’t like cursing at her daughters, but it was taking every ounce of self restraint to not blow up right now.

Vi just scoffs.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I’ve been watching you two all night, plus all the stuff Powder’s been telling me. You like her.”

Now it’s Sevika’s turn to scoff.

“First of all, I don’t like her, she’s Powder’s teacher and she’s been helping out with her project. Second of all, and more importantly, what do you think you’re doing dropping a bomb like that during dinner?!”

Now Vi has an incredulous look on her face, how did Sevika not get it?

“She’s a cheater! And a liar! I was trying to open your eyes before you get hurt again.”

Sevika freezes at that, now she understands the teenager’s motives.

“Vi…”

The girl cuts her off before she can say anything else.

“I know how much you got hurt last time, Sev. And I talk to the girls, they really like her too, but it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you what I know.”

“And you thought the best way to do that was in front of everyone at dinner?”

Vi shrugs a bit, a small scowl gracing her features.

“I didn’t really plan it that way, it just happened.”

Sevika sighs, leaning back in her chair.

“How sure are you that that’s what even happened?”

Looking back up at her, Vi’s mouth twists a bit.

“100%. My friend told me all the details when it happened and her mom was really torn up about it for a while. I put it all together when I saw her in person. You deserve someone better than that.”

Sevika’s eyes narrow in annoyance.

“It’s not your job to protect me.”

Vi lets out a bitter scoff.

“No? Then who’s supposed to?”

At this Sevika’s face softens, but she doesn’t have an answer for her.

She starts rubbing her face, this whole situation was fucked now.

“I know you meant well, Vi, but that was not the way to go about it. She’s still Powder’s teacher, and if your sister goes to the next round of this competition, we both still have to be in contact with her.”

Vi hadn’t thought that far, and now she feels guilty for putting them in that position.

“Oh…I didn’t realize that.”

All Sevika can do is groan, rubbing her forehead as she feels the beginning of a headache coming on.

“Exactly. I know you think you have to be an adult, but you don’t. Just…be a kid, and leave the rest up to me, okay?”

Vi finally makes eye contact with Sevika, eyes slightly watering as the gravity of the situation settles on her shoulders.

“Okay.”

“Go hang out in your room or something, okay? I need a minute.”

Vi gets up from the table slowly, walking into her room and shutting the door. As soon as she’s alone, Sevika lets out a heavy breath.

Seeing the look on your face combined with the fact that you didn’t deny it…it didn’t bode well, she’ll admit. Sevika’s mind is racing, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last thirty minutes. Hearing that you cheated on someone you were with, let alone engaged to is hitting her hard. Of course you have a past, but that was always something she never tolerated in a relationship, and this has her rethinking the fact that she wanted to pursue you.

Sevika gets up from the table and walks over to the kitchen window, looking out at the night sky, trying to find some clarity in her thoughts.

She wonders if she should even bring it up to you, but she’s terrified of what she’ll find out. Sevika always prided herself on being a great judge of character, never trusting someone unless they’ve earned it. She can’t help but wonder where things went wrong regarding you.

Walking into the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of bourbon, she heads into the garage to listen to her music as loud as possible to try and drown out her thoughts.

That doesn’t last long as her mind immediately drifts to you and how you’re doing. She even pulls out her phone to call you, staring at your contact card for what seems like ages but ultimately deciding against it.

Not that you would’ve answered even if she had, as soon as you got home, you ran into your room and dove under the covers, crying your eyes out.

You had done so much work to heal from that relationship, and to hear how she lied to everyone to make herself the victim made you sick. It shouldn’t surprise you, she was always selfish like that, you just wish you had realized it sooner. What hurt more was that her daughter believed it all too, but why wouldn’t she take her mom’s side?

That was a big reason why you were hesitant to approach anything with Sevika, the fact that she had daughters who were attached to you would make a breakup that much harder.

The tears came faster at that realization and you cried yourself to sleep soon after that, finally escaping the emotional turmoil of the night.

After a couple hours of trying to think of anything else at all, Sevika decides to grab a quick shower. As she undresses, her mind replays the last couple hours. She can’t help but linger on the last look you gave her before you left, the betrayal and pain on your face.

Stepping in the shower, Sevika lets out a sigh relishing the way the hot water feels against her skin. Eventually the water runs cold and she realizes how long she’s been in there, quickly jumping out and wrapping a towel around herself.

Feeling sluggish now, she puts her pajamas on and slides into bed, unable to close her eyes even though her body is begging for sleep. A million thoughts running through her head, she decides to go on her phone for a little, hoping that’ll help. Eventually, she sees a notification for a suggested friend, and it’s you.

Clicking on the same profile she’s seen a thousand times, she stares at your profile picture until she feels the need to talk to you.

Sevika opens up her text messages and clicks on the tab with your name, starting to type out her thoughts. She pours everything she’s been feeling, about tonight, the last couple months, everything. It’s more therapeutic than she expected, and by the end of her lengthy message, she actually feels relaxed.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, a wave of panic washes over her and she deletes everything she had typed out. No, it’s better this way, she tells herself. A relationship with someone who cheated in the past isn’t something she’s interested in at this stage in her life, for herself or her girls.

Putting her phone down, she closes her eyes and tries to forget about how your face looked tonight, never wanting to see it that way again.

Little does she know, you’ve woken up from your dreamless slumber and had the same idea to reach out, so you’ve been staring at your screen with bated breath. After what feels like ages, you’re expecting a book length text when all of a sudden, the bubble disappears.

Sitting up in bed, you wait for it to pop back up, but after a few minutes of staring at your screen, you realize she’s not going to send it and crumple into your sheets. Feeling a new wave of sadness take over you, a fresh set of tears brim behind your closed eyelids, and you try to resign yourself to sleep yet again.

taglist! @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp

[lyn31]

Sinceeee i'm still in this zayne and mc on a honeymoon sweetness haze, might as well request another one for my dose of sweetness hahaha can you pretty please write more about their newlywed life, all domestic like them cooking together, going on grocery shopping maybe? Heck even them doing laundry together would be cute 🤣 oh and probably them going to work related functions for the first time since the wedding and introducing each other as husband / wife? Just sending this in before i sleep so good night and thankyou in advance! hehe 💕❤️

Hopefully it's not died down yet 😂🫶🏻 And no worries, seeing that I made a series in ao3, this story would keep coming even if it just a short little scene! And again, I can't choose what activity for them to do, so this is how it ended up being...

Let me know what you think! 👀💕

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New Chapter of Life Together

Summary

You learn what it means to be loved as a wife—not through grand declarations, but in quiet mornings, soft reassurances, and the steady presence of the man who chose you for life.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Married Life, newlyweds, fluff, banter, silly, chaos, a lot of flirting!

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The first thing you feel is his arm, heavy and familiar around your waist. Then the warmth of his chest, the quiet, steady rhythm of his breath against your shoulder. You shift slightly, testing the morning light that peeks through the curtains—and immediately, Zayne tightens his hold on you with all the intent of someone who has no plans of letting you escape.

"Good morning, wife," he murmurs against your skin, voice still rough with sleep.

You smile before your eyes are even fully open. "Good morning, husband."

The views aren’t new anymore. You’ve lived together long before vows were exchanged, before rings slipped into place. But now—now they taste sweeter, weightier. Even when said half-teasing, neither of you seem eager to stop.

You stretch your leg over his, limbs tangled beneath the covers, and he exhales softly like that was exactly what he wanted. For a moment, neither of you speak. Just the quiet of the room, the drowsy comfort of not needing to be anywhere yet.

"I had a weird dream," you mumble into his collarbone. "You were trying to fight a sentient loaf of bread."

Zayne hums. "Did I win?"

"Only after giving it a heartfelt speech about forgiveness."

"I see." A beat. "Sounds accurate."

You laugh under your breath. He kisses the back of your neck, absently, like it’s muscle memory. You reach behind you, fingertips brushing his chest until they find that familiar, faint heartbeat under your touch—calm and certain, just like him.

"What should we eat?" you ask after a pause, not moving an inch.

"You're asking me that while still in bed?" he murmurs, voice laced with amusement.

"No dirty thoughts! I’m manifesting brunch."

"You’re manifesting it from the arms of your husband, who is also very comfortable."

You twist slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. "Fine, I guess we’ll starve together."

Zayne’s smile is small but unmistakable, the kind that barely lifts the corner of his lips and still somehow makes your stomach flutter. He leans in, brushing his mouth against yours—slow, warm, and just the right side of lazy. It deepens as your fingers slip into his hair, and for a moment, you both seem to forget everything else. His touch drifts lower, and the kiss turns languid, coaxing.

But then, your stomach lets out a loud, undeniable growl.

You freeze. Zayne stills. And then, against your neck, you feel his shoulders start to shake with laughter.

"Okay, okay," you groan, burying your face in the pillow. "Rude."

He kisses your temple, still grinning. "Brunch it is."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You pad into the kitchen behind him, still barefoot, hair a mess, wearing one of his oversized shirts like you always do on mornings like this. Zayne rolls up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, sets his tablet on the counter, and already you can see that look in his eyes—the one that says he’s taking this way too seriously.

"Let me help," you say, even though you both know what that usually means.

Zayne glances over his shoulder with that soft, amused expression he reserves just for you. "You sure?"

"Of course! It’s brunch. It’s meant to be spontaneous and unhinged."

He blinks but nods all the same. "Alright. But no cinnamon in the eggs again."

"That's one time," you mutter, grabbing a pan anyway.

It’s controlled chaos from there. Zayne measures ingredients with military precision, he stirs with careful, deliberate movements. Meanwhile, you’re humming whatever’s stuck in your head, tossing in seasonings by instinct, ignoring every suggestion he tries to gently offer.

"That’s not... two teaspoons," he points out mildly, watching you sprinkle something into your pan with reckless abandon.

"It’s two teaspoons in spirit."

He shakes his head, reaching around you to grab a cutting board, only for your elbow to bump his side. You dodge in front of him, stealing his spatula just to flip your own food. He frowns, but there’s no heat in it. Just the usual dance of coexisting in a space too small for both your styles.

At some point, you flick flour at him.

It catches him clean on the nose, dusting his face like powdered sugar. He doesn’t react at first—just stares at you, completely deadpan, as if deciding whether to reprimand you or kiss you senseless.

You burst into laughter.

"You have flour—" you wheeze, pointing, "on your—"

Zayne calmly wipes his nose with a dish towel. "I’m married to a gremlin."

"Excuse you, I’m a culinary genius."

"You’re a hazard."

Still, when everything’s finally cooked and plated, the result is... actually edible. Good, even. The eggs are a little crisped on one side, the toast slightly uneven, but the flavors are warm and comforting and somehow perfectly them. You both slide onto the counter, plates balanced on your laps, legs swinging lazily.

The window’s open. The breeze smells like spring. He hands you a fork, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips again as he watches you take your first bite.

"...Not bad, right?" you ask, mouth full.

"Brilliant," he says dryly. "I might survive after all."

You nudge your foot against his, eyes catching his in that soft, slow moment that doesn’t need anything more than just being here.

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The shower is—miraculously—efficient. Warm water, quiet kisses, just enough lingering touches to feel indulgent without dragging the hours into full-blown distraction. You both dry off in sync, navigating the shared space like muscle memory, and by the time you're dressed and slipping on your shoes, it's afternoon.

Sunday means errands, but it doesn’t feel like a chore. Not when it’s the two of you.

You stop by the dry cleaners first, where Zayne handles the transaction with his usual quiet grace and you eye the mystery stain on one of his button-downs like it personally offended you. Then it’s light bulbs, of all things, which somehow turns into a debate over wattage because Zayne is, of course, reading the box like it’s a research paper.

"I swear you overthink these," you mutter, nudging his arm with your elbow.

"And you under think everything," he replies, without even looking up.

Fair.

But the best part of the afternoon is the plant shop. It’s a cozy little place that smells like soil and citrus, and you make a beeline for the corner where the leafy, drooping misfits live. One in particular catches your eye—a slightly crooked snake plant with a tilted pot and far too much charm for Zayne to ignore.

"We just re-potted three last month," he says, arms crossed.

"He’s different. Look at him," you coo, lifting the little guy carefully. "He’s got personality."

Zayne gives the plant a long, assessing look, then you. Then the plant again. "...You’re going to forget to water it."

"I won’t."

"You will," he says, but takes the pot from you anyway, one hand cradling the base like it’s fragile. The way he does it makes you grin—he’s already accepted the adoption, whether he admits it or not.

Outside the store, an elderly woman fumbles with her bags, and before either of you even speak, you step forward to help. Zayne’s hand settles briefly at the small of your back as you assist her, steady and quiet. She thanks you both sweetly, eyes crinkling, and you flash her a smile that lingers longer than necessary.

Zayne watches that smile with a softness he doesn’t say out loud.

The rest of the outing passes in that same easy rhythm. You hand him your drink without a word, and he takes a sip like it’s routine—no need to ask. You lean into him while waiting at a crosswalk, forehead briefly brushing his shoulder. At some point, you bicker about whether taking 3rd Avenue or looping around through the back road is faster—Zayne with logic, you with stubborn gut feeling. He humors you and takes your route anyway.

By the time you hit the grocery store, you’re both ready to knock out dinner prep. But the snack aisle derails everything. Zayne sneaks bags of cookies into the cart like you can’t see it or something. You remove one, replacing it with the lower-sugar version, only for him to sneak another one in from behind your back.

"You know we came here for, like, eggs and rice, right?" You say, grinning, crossing your arms.

"And chocolate," he adds, tossing in a novelty-flavored candy bar. He casually looks at his phone that has the grocery list like he didn’t just add sweet into it.

You scan the nutritional label like it just betrayed your trust. Seriously—if you didn’t stop this man, all his teeth would rot and he wouldn’t even regret it.

Eventually, you give up pretending to be responsible and accept that your cart now contains enough snacks for a week. Maybe two.

On the way home, you both realize brunch wore off faster than expected. Zayne’s stomach growls first. You don’t say anything—just raise an eyebrow and gesture toward a café at the corner.

Ten minutes later, you're inside, warm and cozy, sunlight filtering through the windows. He’s reading the menu with that familiar furrow between his brows, like choosing between a croissant and a danish is a life-altering decision.

"You look so serious right now," you tease, sipping your drink. "Like you’re solving a medical mystery. For pastries."

"I like to be thorough."

"You're adorable."

He lowers the menu slightly, eyes flicking to yours. "...You’re not getting out of deciding the movie tonight." But despite how steady his tone is, the tips of his ears are turning red.

You grin around the rim of your cup. "I’ll let you pick—if you get the strawberry tart and let me steal half."

"...Deal."

You end up splitting three pastries anyway. Conversation drifts from movies to work, to the idea of maybe cooking something light for dinner, to whether or not that plant is actually going to survive under your care. It’s nothing flashy. Just the rhythm of being you and Zayne—shared smiles, knees bumping beneath the table, the world soft around the edges.

And for a lazy Sunday? It’s perfect.

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Monday morning hits different after a slow weekend. There’s a light chill in the air, one that creeps in through the kitchen windows despite the soft warmth of dawn pressing through the curtains. You pad across the tile floor, barefoot, still slightly sleepy, wearing nothing but one of Zayne’s button-downs—loose, wrinkled from the laundry basket, and hanging just enough to tease.

You’re not really trying to make a statement.

...But you're also not not trying.

You're mid-pour with the kettle when you hear the bathroom door open and soft footsteps cross the hall. Zayne steps into the kitchen, towel around his neck, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. He’s wearing his usual morning expression—composed, alert, too calm for someone who just walked in on his wife looking like that.

Except for the smallest shift in his gaze, the stillness in his steps as he takes you in.

He says nothing at first, only moves toward the counter like he always does. Pours himself a mug of coffee. But you catch the flicker. That very specific pause as he lifts the cup to his lips and doesn't drink—just watches you over the rim, quiet, assessing.

And yeah. You know exactly what you're doing.

"Morning, husband," you say sweetly, voice innocent as you stretch just slightly to reach the sugar jar.

His eyes trail the motion, linger a second too long. "...Good morning, wife."

He sets the mug down with a soft clink. That’s all. No teasing, no smirking. But you feel the tension in the air anyway, coiling subtle and slow between your bare thighs and his calm restraint. This man, composed even now, does nothing by accident.

"You're going to be late," he says, finally turning back to his coffee.

"So are you," you reply, sipping yours, perfectly unfazed.

But his gaze dips once more as he walks past you, deliberately brushing the edge of his hand along the curve of your waist, kissing you slowly before going on his way out of the kitchen, as if staying any longer would mean neither of you would get out of the house today.

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A few hours into work, you’re back on base, half-distracted during reports when something ridiculous happens—Tara gets her coat stuck in the door and tries to play it off like it didn’t happen. You manage a sneaky photo just before she notices.

You send it to Zayne with no caption.

A minute later, your screen lights up.

Mine💕: Is this why you were wearing my shirt and nothing else this morning? To not get attack by door?

You grin and fire back.

You: Well, I had to arm myself with something. Your shirt felt appropriate. Has… sentimental value.

Mine💕: It had strategic value this morning too.

You almost laugh out loud.

You: Are you suggesting I distracted you?

Mine💕: You walked into the kitchen half-dressed. On a Monday. After a weekend where we barely left bed. So, yes.

You: Oh no. What will I wear tomorrow?

Mine💕:  Nothing, if you’re trying to get me to skip work.

Your cheeks heat—part laughter, part memory, part anticipation. The texts keep going, drifting more playful, more suggestive, until you're both balancing professionalism with escalating tension.

Eventually, somewhere between paperwork and lunch, he sends one last message.

Mine💕: I’m picking up dinner tonight. So you can go straight to not wearing anything when I get home.

You don’t reply immediately. Just stare at your screen, biting back a smile.

But oh yeah—you’re both very much looking forward to tonight.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You get home before him. The house is quiet, the kind of peaceful that makes you want to hum to yourself while moving through it. Zayne said he’d bring dinner, so technically you didn’t have to do anything—but a sudden idea takes hold somewhere between opening the fridge and spotting the unused chocolate in the cupboard.

Dessert.

You’ll make dessert.

Well… a dessert.

You tie on the apron—his apron, naturally. It's one of those neutral-toned ones with deep pockets and a tie that loops around your waist twice. The only thing beneath it is skin and a whole lot of mischief. It’s half a joke—just the apron, no clothes—but it doesn’t stop you from fluffing your hair and checking the mirror before you start.

You’re not just teasing. You want to see what that calm, steady husband of yours does when he walks in and finds his wife waiting with nothing but his apron.

The baking part goes better than expected. It helps that you’ve done this before, and that you know exactly how he likes his sweets, although he’ll eat any sweet you give him and this is just talking about actual food.

You’re plating them when you hear the lock click.

The door swings open. Zayne steps in, dinner in hand, something warm and likely perfectly portioned. His eyes lift—routine, casual—until they register what they’re seeing.

He stops mid-step.

You’re standing there at the kitchen counter, apron tied neatly, dessert on display. The light catches your skin, and maybe it’s your imagination, but the air seems to still for a moment.

He blinks.

“Welcome home, husband,” you say, voice light, innocent.

He sets the takeout bag down on the nearest surface. Doesn’t even glance at it. Just walks straight toward you, loosing up the tie on his shirt, walking slow and with controlled, like he's handling something fragile. Or dangerous.

His hands slide to your waist—cool, sure. His voice is low, close to your ear. “I thought we agree on nothing.”

“Isn’t this more exciting?” you murmur, tipping your head up just slightly, pulling at his tie.

He kisses you like he has no intention of stopping. And for a long, breathless stretch, he doesn’t.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you actually sit down to eat, the food is lukewarm and the desserts are nearly forgotten. You both laugh about it, halfway through your second bites, a little dazed, your hair mussed, his neck full of kiss marks. Both of you barely dress.

The kitchen still smells like sugar and vanilla.

And Zayne? He still hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s just past midnight when he wakes up.

No gasp, no cry—just a sharp inhale through clenched teeth and the sudden tension of his body beside you. You feel it immediately, even through sleep. The shift in the bed. The way his hand curls slightly, like he's still trying to hold onto something that slipped away.

You roll toward him, reaching out before your eyes are fully open. “Zayne?”

He blinks once, twice, eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering in from the streetlamp outside. His breath is still uneven. There’s sweat at his hairline, his shirt sticking to his chest, his jaw tight.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You don't reply at first. Just press your forehead to his shoulder, your arm slipping around his middle.

“Was it… another nightmare?”

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the nod. It's small. Heavy.

It doesn't happen often—not anymore. But every now and then, something cracks through that carefully maintained calm. Close calls. An impossible case. A moment when the scalpel trembled, or worse, when it nearly slipped. Or sometimes... sometimes it's you. A memory he tries not to relive, no matter how old or how faint.

“You’re here,” you whisper, voice soft against his skin. “We’re safe.”

His arms come around you after that. Slow, a little hesitant—like he still thinks he doesn’t deserve to be comforted—but when he exhales, it’s shakier than he means it to be.

“You were…” he trails off. “In the OR. I—”

He stops again. Shakes his head.

You don't need the rest. You've heard enough versions of this dream to know where it leads. And you know exactly how deeply it sinks into him, even hours after it ends.

So you pull him closer, shifting until you’re almost on top of him, fingers threading through his damp hair, grounding him. “You made vows,” you say, quiet but steady. “So did I.”

His hands press against your back, anchoring. He doesn’t reply, but you feel the moment he lets go of the dream. Not entirely—but enough. Enough to stay here. With you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love.”

You press a kiss just below his ear. “Not now. Not ever.”

And finally, finally, he breathes like he believes it.

He falls asleep not long after, arms still around you, the warmth of your body pulling him back to steadiness. And you stay like that, wide awake, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest.

You know he’ll be okay in the morning.

He always is.

But you stay anyway—because that’s what you promised.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The event is held in one of the hospital’s private conference halls—high ceilings, too-bright lighting, waitstaff weaving between clusters of formally dressed doctors and researchers. There’s soft music playing in the background, more ambiance than melody, and a spread of hors d’oeuvres on white-clothed tables no one quite dares to touch.

Zayne stands beside you, tailored suit perfect down to the pressed collar. He blends in seamlessly with the rest of them—composed, unbothered, clipboard conversations flowing around him like water. But you can feel it in the way his hand rests at the small of your back. Gentle. Protective. Anchored.

He leans in slightly when someone approaches. “This is my wife,” he says simply, voice calm but warm.

You hear the words more than once tonight—always offhand, always soft. But every time, they catch you a little off guard. My wife. It shouldn’t feel so new anymore, but somehow, coming from him, in this polished, clinical space where everything is usually professional and precise… it does.

It feels like a tiny rebellion.

You smile, offer your hand, try to keep your voice steady as you greet whoever he introduces you to—department heads, residents, researchers you only know by surname on articles he's sent you. And you do well enough, even as you notice the subtle double takes. The way eyes flick between the two of you. Like no one expected this pairing. Or maybe they just didn’t expect you.

“She’s even prettier than you described,” one of the cardiologists from another hospital murmurs with a smile, a little in awe.

Before you can react—before you can wave it off or stammer something awkward—Zayne’s already answering.

“She always is.”

He doesn’t smile when he says it. Doesn’t smirk or make a show of it. He just says it like it’s fact. Like gravity. And suddenly you’re the one left flustered, heat blooming in your face.

Zayne offers you a drink then—water, always observant—and you accept it more for the distraction than anything else. His fingers brush yours briefly. Steady. Sure.

Later, during a lull in the presentations, you find yourself pressed shoulder to shoulder with him by the tall windows overlooking the city. He doesn’t say much, just watches the traffic below. But his fingers curl around yours, his thumb tracing the back of your hand slowly, absentmindedly.

You lean into him a little.

“You know you’re going to make it hard for me to show my face around here again,” you murmur.

“Why?” he asks mildly, but there’s the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“You just… announced me like I was the highlight of the year.”

“You are.”

You laugh, bury your face briefly against his arm, cheeks still warm. He says nothing else, just lets you stay close, thumb still moving in slow circles. The rest of the evening passes in the blur of names and speeches, but you hold on to that moment.

To the quiet certainty in his voice.

To being his wife—not just on paper, but here. Beside him. In his world.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

They're too cute for their own good 😩🫶🏻 I'll be back 👀 Here's the proposal and wedding fic, How it all happen, and here's the honeymoon fic, Honeymoon part 1 (Smut) and Honeymoon part 2 (Fluff) This is a bit of a jump but here's where they attempt at trying for baby lol 2 years into their marriage! Try For Baby (Fluff)

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

[ppyopulii]

send-off ⏳ (demo ver.) | ft. choi seungcheol

PREVIEW. “I have no words for them other than ‘take care.’ I have nothing to say that will comfort worries should they have any.”

FEATURING. choi seungcheol x reader GENRE(S). established relationship, hurt/comfort LENGTH | WC. <10min | 1k words EXPLICITS. one (1) curse word, descriptions of kissing

JAY’S MUSINGS. this… was supposed to be a 200 word drabble. my heart goes out to @etherealyoungk and @junplusone. thank u for watching me crash out about caratland. and of course, lots of love goes out to csc today and tomorrow and forevermore. u will always be their #1 role model, cheollie.

YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE. unlovable by glowie // honesty by pink sweat$ // lover by taylor swift // soldier, poet, king by the oh hellos // tahanan by adie // love. by wave to earth

“What’s in your heart?”

There’s a heaviness piling on Seungcheol’s character, one that knots his shoulder blades together and wears on the crease in between his eyebrows. Your whisper of a question to him has a breath stuttering out of his throat in response.

His grip on his phone loosens, and a quick glance at the screen confirms your worries. It’s a viral edit of various CARATLAND adventures; Wonwoo’s bright smile molds into Jeonghan’s smirk and makes your heart sink. You can only guess that the next member to appear is Soonyoung, and you’re proven right when the video automatically replays to showcase the energetic dancer.

You sigh.

“Cheol,” you press a kiss to his shoulder, taking note of the tense muscle and reminding yourself to make him a cup of his favorite tea in a bit. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? You’ve had a long day.”

He doesn’t answer you right away. Instead, your husband lets his phone clatter to the coffee table’s mahogany wood, running a hand through his hair. It’s kept a little longer than usual, freshly dyed with red streakings, something you suggested to him when he was looking for new inspiration on how to style it.

You’re about to call out to him again when Seungcheol squeezes his eyes shut.

“What kind of leader am I?”

His voice is quiet in volume, but the question echoes throughout your dimly lit living room, bouncing off the walls of framed photos and hanging plants.

“I–” Seungcheol starts, before running another hand through his hair, “I’m supposed to be the strong one. The one that they look up to in hard times. What kind of model do I serve as when I can’t be there for them through something as big as enlistment?”

“I have to sit back and watch them enlist, one by one, and all I can do is wish them well. Jeonghan-ah and Wonwoo–” his voice breaks on the last syllable of Wonwoo’s name, “They’re not on active duty. But what about Jihoon-ah? Or Hoshi? I have no words for them other than ‘take care.’ I have nothing to say that will comfort worries should they have any.”

He ends with burying his face in his worn, calloused hands. They’re rough to the touch, you know firsthand—but you take in the way Seungcheol’s right pinky is laced with a silver ring and a gold band is wrapped snugly around his left ring finger, eyes drawn to the polished metals with awe. The reason they fit so perfectly with nothing more than a speck of rust is his continuous, present care—damned be the experience his hands have been through.

“Seungcheol,” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder before snaking your arms around his hefty torso. “Seungcheol. Your presence is enough. It will always be enough.”

“How good can my presence be if I don’t even—”

“They are not asking you to live their life for them through an unknown chapter,” you cut him off sharply. “They are not asking you to teach them the ways of the world. They are asking you to be there. To stand with them and listen to them and be present.”

Seungcheol, oh, your Seungcheol—he’s crying, pulling his crewneck up to hide his red-rimmed eyes and turning into your body to shield himself from the world. You draw soothing, long circles across his back as he weeps, taking deep breaths to keep your own tears at bay.

“I know you burden yourself with the task of being their leader,” your voice is softer now, dulled with your love for him. “You have for the past decade now. But this? They are not asking you to lead them. They are asking you to simply be their friend.”

“And you are,” you gently push his sweater down and bring his face to yours, hands wiping away his salty tears. “And you will be. I know you will.”

He hiccups before leaning into you, rubbing his face along your fingers that so eagerly hold him. You pay no mind to the snot and saltwater; how could you, when you’re currently holding your whole universe in your hands?

His eyes are closed, eyelashes curling with every breath, and you softly press your lips to his right eyelid. Seungcheol barely stirs. You continue, kissing his left eyelid, then his temple, before murmuring sweet words of comfort to each of his blushing cheeks.

“You’ve done well, Cheollie.” Your lover is now gripping your face with those lovely toughened hands of his own, lips quivering while he kisses you with all the strength he has left in him. “There is no more to be asked of you from anyone. You have proven yourself, a thousand times over.”

“Thank you,” he sobs against your mouth; you welcome another open-mouthed kiss, his teeth clinking against yours. “Thank you. I love you. What did I do to deserve you? To deserve them?”

You giggle, the sound reverberating through your living room and whisking away all of his shadowing thoughts. He quietly laughs along with you, a chuckle that warms you to the bone, and you know your Seungcheol is back.

He clasps his hands over yours and smiles at you; you can feel the heat radiating off his fingers that meets the cool metal band of your own wedding ring, and Seungcheol thumbs over it like a promise. His eyes are shining despite his tears.

“Nothing, silly,” you finally answer. “You did nothing but be yourself. And isn’t that enough?”

Choi Seungcheol kisses you like it’s the last breath he’ll ever take.

“And isn’t that enough,” he echoes.

[novemberheart]

{overview} you make some friends- and some not friends

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, Simon being a grump, cursing, short chapter, mostly some “world-building”, Fem reader, Simon heavy chapter

Chapter 8 <- Chapter 9 -> Chapter 10

Simon woke you up the next morning, with a rough series of pats on your back. You groaned curling around yourself, the smell of leather slowly filling up your senses.

“This day isn't going to fuck itself,” Simon grumbled. Your eyes opened groggily, sending him a glare.

“What does that even mean?” you croaked, forcing yourself to sit up. Simon bit back a smile at the sight of your bedhead. He was able to snap a picture as you stared off into space. He sent it to Johnny, who quickly made it his lock screen.

“Up, pup,” he commanded, getting up himself. He moved with much more ease, only wincing as he took a few steps forward. “Got a busy day,” he added. By the time his words settled in your ears, he had already made his way into his bedroom.

“Busy day?” you questioned to yourself as you brushed your teeth. “Where are we going?” you asked. Simon was able to shower, shave, and get dressed by the time you finished brushing your teeth and picking out an outfit.

“Something the omega committee planned. Breakfast in the park or some shite like that. Captain wants you to go.” he explained.

“I don't want to.” you began to whine.

“Ah, ah, ah don't start pulling that shite with me, it's not gonna work. Put your stompers on, and let's go.” he growled. You straightened up, a little worried at his tone. Why did he sound so angry? Regardless, you quickly did as you were told, grabbing your shoes out of the closet and following wordlessly behind him.

You wanted to ask him more about this ‘breakfast in the park’ thing but you refrained. Nervousness began to eat at you, as it would for most people when you were being thrown into a group of people you have never met. The omegas there have probably already formed cliques. Not that you weren't used to being the new person. You didn't quite feel as though you could tell the alpha next to you about it.

At least it was a pretty sunny day out.

The walk wasn't very far, and it wasn't exactly a park. It was near where Simon took you for a walk. There was a bit of a crowd already, sitting down on their own blankets. Simon pulled out a blanket that was tucked under his arm. “Look at me,” he instructed. “No reason for you to be nervous, yeah? They're lucky to have you, I think, I mean I don't really know you that well.” he huffed, causing you to giggle. “See the group behind me?” he asked. You peeked around him.

“Pink blanket?” you hummed. He hummed back.

“You steer clear of ‘em. They get into trouble.” he told, and you nodded your head in understanding. “I'll be right over there havin’ a cig, you go be a good girl and save me a scone, yeah?” he patted you with the blanket. You took it from him, watching as he headed past you, without a glance over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but felt much better about the situation. You guess Simon was much more tough love than you were used to. You stood for a moment surveying the area. People were cliqued up all right. You decided just to head in the opposite direction of the pink blanket gang.

You grabbed a plate off of one of the tables and decided on a cinnamon roll and a scone for Simon. You also grabbed a hot chocolate. You pulled off to the side eyeing the array of people. A particular group caught your eye. Two women and a man. They seemed approachable like they wouldn't shoot you down if you went up to them. Only one way to find out. You followed the natural path set up by blankets.

They stopped talking as you stood before them. “Hi.” You smiled, trying not to sound too shy. You introduced yourself in one breath waiting for them to make the next move.

“Hi, I'm Anais.” the one in the middle introduced herself first. She was sweet-looking, her glasses taking up most of her face and magnifying her eyes in an endearing way.

“I’m Jane.” the one to your right looked. She looked just as uncomfortable as you, her obsidian eyes darting around.

“Jonah.” the last one greeted. “You're welcome to join us.” he offered, which you quickly took them up on.

“The worst part is over.” Anais smiled, adjusting herself so she was sitting on her knees. “When did you get here?”

“Four days ago,” you replied.

“I got here six days ago,” Jane spoke up. Her voice was soft and brittle. You were tempted to give her a hug.

“Ah, so you know what it's like.” you smiled. “How long have you two been here?” you asked, spooning a piece of cinnamon roll into your mouth.

“Seven months,” Jonah answered.

“A little under three months for me,” Anais said.

“Nice. Do you like it here?” you questioned. You were hoping to get the dirt on people.

“Not really. You're lucky you're with big guy over there.” Anais said through bites of her toast. “Do you really have your own flat?” she questioned. Looks like you were going to be the one giving out dirt.

“Yeah it's pretty close to that. Where do you live?”

“In the barracks,” Anais said. “It's a room filled with bunk beds.”

“That sounds terrible.” you winced. “Do you get any privacy?”

“Not really. Unless it's during my heat.” she shrugged. “That's usually what happens when you're just bonded to an alpha, not a whole pack,” she explained. “I hope to get my pack one day. You're lucky you didn't have to work for yours.” she sighed. Your brows twitched.

“Anais,” Jonah whispered harshly. She just shrugged. How did she know anything about you and your pack? There was obviously something you weren't aware of.

“It's alright.” you soothed, giving Jonah a smile. “She’s technically right.” you sighed.

“I didn't mean it in a bad way.” Anais continued. “Just that you're lucky,” she added. You have been hearing that a lot lately.

“I know.” you agreed. You figured it was better to play along. Plus you seem to be lucky. “Did you get assigned here or?” you asked, turning over to Jane.

“Assigned.”

“Me too.” you replied.

“I know,” she whispered, causing you to furrow your brows again.

“Does everybody know?” you finally asked.

“You have been a hot topic,” Jonah admitted. You looked over your shoulder and suddenly became aware of the glances and peeks your way. Has everyone been staring at you this whole time? “Don't stress about it,” Jonah added.

“Yeah, you're literally a celebrity,” Anais added.

“I don't know if I want to be a celebrity.” you said finally.

“I’ll trade with you. I'm not really into guys, but I’d do it for fame.” Jonah chuckled, causing you all to laugh.

“I'll let you know after I finish my first week.” you snickered. An hour went by fairly fast. The group next to you joined into the conversation and soon you were a nice group of seven. Priya- she was the one you bonded to quickly. You started talking because she also was with a task force, her choice, on the sixth floor of your building.

She smelled like apples and lavender. Your mom smelled like lavender.

“How’d you do?” Simon asked. He stood up from the bench, eyeing you up and down. You certainly smelled happy. Your scent turned warm when you were happy. Your normal scent was freshly cut peaches paired with a chilled vanilla ice cream. Yet when you were happy it became a peach crumble straight out of the oven. He chewed the inside of his cheek, moving so he was upwind.

Before you had time to respond something caught his attention. “Come on, pup.” he urged. His hand rested on the back of your neck guiding you away from the scene. You had the sense of mind to not question him, which he was grateful for.

“Lieutenant Ghost.” A voice called from behind the two of you. He growled, stopping, but keeping a firm grip on you as he began to turn.

“Lieutenant Hale.” Simon mustered.

“So this must be the little lady I've been hearin’ so much about.” He was Southern, a charming drawl in his voice.

“She would be the one.” Simon affirmed. His hand reached down, grabbing your hip pulling you towards his side.

“Haven’t smelt something so sweet in a long time. You remind me of home.” Lieutenant Hale smiled at you. You remained straight-face, your omega beginning to feed off of the signals Simon was sending out. “How have you been, L.T.? Heard you took a nasty tumble.” Hale clicked his tongue.

“Fine.” Simon replied bluntly.

“Well, I would hope so. Medicine like that could heal any man.” Hale smirked, his eyes still locked on you.

“Got that right,” Simon said back. The men were keeping pleasantries- probably for your sake. Simon gave your hip a squeeze. “See you around, Hale.” The hand on the back of your neck returned, turning you away from the scene.

“I look forward to it. Both of you,” he added, tipping his head towards you. You remained silent. When you got far enough away you looked back over your shoulder. Two of the girls from the pink blanket rushed over to him, nuzzling their way under his arms.

His eyes were still on you.

“You did good, pup.” Simon complimented once you got away from the crowd.

“Thank you.”

It was two hours past your normal bedtime. The first two nights here you were so exhausted you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. The third night you fell asleep on the couch with everyone.

It felt like the first night here.

You can still remember the last night you slept alone. It was the night before your mom left. The night she left you remember her sneaking her way into your bedroom, holding you as tight as she could. You could still feel her breath on your cheek as she breathed you in. You didn't question it at the time.

You wish you had.

That day your grandparents came down to help out and you slept in the guestroom with them- terrified of being left again. Then you got step-siblings, then roommates at the omega holding house.

You scrunched your eyes tightly.

Your room was too dark. Too quiet. Too cold. It had yet to be drenched in your scent, the room still smelling like paint and carpet cleaner. You wondered if Johnny or Kyle would mind you crashing their room. You're sure they wouldn't, but you didn't want to set yourself up for rejection. You could always crash on the couch with Simon. You didn't want him to think you were too needy.

You suddenly heard movement outside your door. You stilled, pulling the covers further up your body. Your door opened very hesitantly. John carefully poked his head in. You closed your eyes as much as you could to make it look realistic. He trained his eyes on your form for a moment before he quietly shut the door. The realization suddenly dawned on you.

He was checking on you.

You weren't exactly sure why he was checking on you. To see if you were still awake? To see if you were comfortable? Or maybe to make sure you hadn’t escaped.

Either way, it meant one thing:

You weren't alone.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 10 will be in two days! See you then!

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated🧡