#and it’s supposed to be like this the rest of the night and all day tmr

[kinichval]

hello hello hello! i’d love for you to write something similar to the pic below with kinich, plus any other characters if you like. you can also add your own style to make it even better. love your works! i’ll definitely be sticking for more. 🫶

I ADORE KINICH SO MUCH > . < and i adore u too thank u so much for loving my writing !!

kinich is a fully-booked saurian hunter and commissioner, working his ass off for mora the moment he wakes up until the last hour of night. by the time he arrives home, he's exhausted and wants nothing more than to rest. this is why you're often at his place, his tired state makes house chores look like a big inconvenience and a hindrance to his well-deserved slumber; so in order for him to maintain a tip-top state of mind and body, you cook meals for him and clean his place.

kinich is grateful to have an angel like you in his life, you didn't ask for any return and insisted that you do these things for him simply because you love him. it warms his heart and feels an embrace that he learned to realize that this is what love is supposed to look like. although, sometimes he can't push away the thoughts that he may not be loving you enough.

instead of swallowing him up, he takes it as an open doorway to learn how to love you better. to grow with you and love the changes that come with growth.

and how kinich makes up for his busy schedule is through his now-not-so-secret morning routine.

time check, it's 4:30 in the morning, the first alarm blares through his ears and shoots vibrations that wake him up. "mornin'" he mumbles, leaning closer to close the gap between your bodies and wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

sometimes you wake up, sometimes you don't. but you know that right after he pulls you in a cuddly embrace, he kisses the back or top of your head, forehead, or your cheeks; in the days you are awake, you smile, feeling warmth in the morning as you lean in closer (if that's still possible) to your lover, your kinich.

just for a few minutes, he wants to hold you a little closer the first thing in the morning. you are his sunshine, his reason for living.

and then, the next alarm rings at 4:35, this is the moment when kinich has to get out of bed. most times, he wishes he could stay in and be with you until you wake up as well, having his arms around you as you cook breakfast or converse with you as you both do household chores together on a lazy sunday afternoon.

at least kinich gets his daily dose of affection that helps him thrive the whole day of back-to-back missions and duties.

the domesticity of it all hugs kinich's heart and reminds him of your promise to stay, to choose him in all ways, always.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Sippin' on Sunshine

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Summary - You and Bruce get away from Gotham on his yacht.

Warnings - Established relationship, Mild sexual content, Age gap, Swearing, Intoxication, Fluff, Bruce's POV, a very brief mention of past unconsenual touching (not Bruce's doing!).

Word Count - 2.1k

The sun is shining brightly, making the brilliant blue of the sea glisten. The smell of salt fills Brue’s nose whilst a gentle breeze ruffles the open shirt he’s currently wearing and waves gently lap at the side of his yacht. He’s lounging on a sun lounger, a glass of whiskey, neat, in his hand. You’re just ahead of him, in a bikini of your favourite colour, dancing and singling along to the bubblegum pop that’s blaring from the speakers. All of it is almost enough for him to completely forget about how much older he is than you.

Almost. 

Until he is catching sight of his distorted reflection in his drink and he’s reminded of the grey in his hair and the wrinkles by the corners of his eyes. He stares at it for a moment before downing the rest of his drink in one and setting aside the now empty glass, on the table next to him. If someone he trusted was to ask him he doesn’t know if he would be able to lie for once. The constant implications from every article surrounding the two of you and your relationship, implying he’s a cradle robber (because they know what will happen if they say it directly), and that he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis have started getting to him way more than he ever thought they would.

None of them change the way that he feels about you. You are completely and utterly intoxicating to him. The way that you look at him and say his name. The way that you curl up against him at night and the love songs that you sing to him from the playlist you have curated specifically for him, while he drives you somewhere. How you comb your fingers through his hair and you pepper his face with soft kisses. Or the sound of your laughter, your giggles especially, when he tells a bad joke or teases you. 

All of it has him feeling a way that he has never felt before. It scares him and if he was a younger man it would make him run. In that way, he supposes, it’s a good thing he’s not a younger man.

You are none the wiser to his inner turmoil. You’re still dancing and signing along to the music which, of course, you’re great at. It’s the type of thing that, he supposse, is to be expected from a woman whose parents discovered she was talented early on in life and decided to exploit that for as long as possible. Until one day you finally turned around, told them to fuck off and started doing everything that you could to destroy the cute and friendly child star image you had attached to you. Which is another thing that the tabloids like to latch on to. Claiming that you’re using him to continue your rebellion and destruction of that image, dragging him down with you.

None of them bother you and he doesn’t believe a single word of them anyway. Besides, the several playboy photoshoots you have done, each one more risque than the last, have surely already done that damage you were looking for. Even if they hadn’t, and if you wanted him to help out, he’s always more than happy to do exactly that. You only need to ask him and he will help you put on a show that no one will be able to erase from their minds.

Your eyes finally meet his, your body turning to face him as you stop dancing. Your chest is heaving as you catch your breath. With his hand, he gestures for you to come over to him. Bruce wants to indulge in you, have you chase away the thoughts that are currently plaguing him. Your face immediately lights up and you eagerly make your way over to him.

He catches you as you almost fall as you make a move to straddle his body. Bruce makes a mental note to slow down your alcohol and to get some food inside of you, knowing all too well how yachts and intoxication don’t mix well with each other. 

Though it is a sign of how comfortable and safe you feel when you’re around him. He knows that you have been on plenty of yachts in the past, but were always surrounded by men who only wanted to discuss “important things” and were way too comfortable with touching you when you really didn’t want them to. 

It’s been a few days since you first told him that. It had come up shortly after he had presented the idea of getting away from Gotham for a little while on his yacht, that honestly never gets used anymore. You had been apprehensive about the idea until he had explained that, other than some staff, it was just going to be you and him. No one else. You had been excited about it after that. And if you hadn’t been? Well, he always had the private jet on stand by, ready to whisk you away and take you wherever you want at a moment’s notice.

Bruce still feels himself boiling over with rage over it when he thinks about it. When the two of you get home, he already has plans to to find these men and ruin their lives. Perhaps even put the fear of Batman into all of them. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, he refuses to let them get away with any of it, but that will have to happen after you get home.

“Careful,” he chides softly, his hand coming to rest high up on your waist to support you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. Your hands come up to cup his face and you lean in to kiss him. You taste like the lemonade and melon liquor you have been drinking today. Sweet and delicious. 

He sighs softly as you part, a hand coming up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. ‘ I’ll never get tired of kissing her,’ he thinks fondly as he gazes into your eyes.

“Are you having fun?” he asks.

His question seems to take you by surprise as you pull away from him a little and frown. You weren’t expecting him to ask you that.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” You don’t give him a second to reply, however, the gears in your inebriated mind spinning and working hard, quickly coming to your own conclusion before he can think of what to say. “Are you asking because of what I told you?”

He nods. “Yeah. Just wanted to make sure that you’re doing okay.” 

Your frown disappears as your face softens and you look at him in a way that you never have before. He can’t name the emotion in your eyes, but it’s enough to make it feel like his heart has just skipped a beat, like he’s a damn teenager again. It doesn’t last long and you’re breaking the moment as you giggle. Something else occurring to your inebriated brain.

“Is that why your hands are so high up on my body?” You giggle again, finding the whole thing very amusing. One of your hands covers the one that’s resting on your waist and you move it down until he’s cupping your ass, your bottom lip caught in your teeth. “You know I don’t mind it when you touch me in less than gentlemanly ways.” 

He huffs a laugh and moves his hand off of your ass, bringing it to rest on your thigh instead. He can already see where your mind is headed, but he’s still focused on being a gentleman and not overstepping. Especially with the state that you’re currently in.

“I know, but I don’t want to overstep and make you uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he tells you.

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you reply. You lean in and rub your nose against his. “I want you, Brucie.” 

He hums. “I think we should have some lunch first,” he suggests. As much as he loves taking you to his bed and drawing every sweet noise of you that he can, whenever he can, he wants to sober you up first. It’s no fun if you’re too drunk to properly enjoy yourself. Not to mention that he doesn't want to take advantage of your current state.

There’s no argument from you, your mind quickly switching away from thoughts of sex to thoughts of what the chef might be serving for lunch. He helps you up and, with a hand on your waist, he keeps you close to him as you both head inside.

Lunch certainly helped with sobering you up. It helps that the chef had made your favourite, per Bruce’s request. You are no longer as giggly as before and Bruce is no longer worried about you potentially falling overboard. Not that he was going to let you get anywhere close to the edge of the yacht to let that happen anyway, but it’s better not to tempt things.

Neither of you have any interest in returning outside to the lounge in the sun. For the time being at least. Instead you are more than content to stay inside, enjoying the air conditioning, while you’re laying on top of him. His fingers resting on the back of your neck, while he kisses you soft and slowly.

He love this. Being lazy and indulging in you. No rush to do anything and not having to worry about the next problem on his never ending list of problems. At least for the moment. 

To think that there was once a time where he had thought he would go crazy if he wasn’t working on his next project or case file. From the moment that he laid eyes on you at that charity event, you have changed a lot of things for him.

Bruce’s free hand trails down your body, mapping out all of your curves, before finally coming to rest on your ass; which he gives a squeeze. You gasp and give him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. Moaning into the kiss, your hand fists his shirt while you start to grind against him, making him twitch inside of his shorts. You definitely feel it because your grinding grows more insistent, making him grow hard.

“Fuck,” he groans against your mouth. He gives your ass another squeeze in retaliation, as well as a light slap that has you gasping again. Letting you know that two can play at that game. It does nothing to discourage you. If anything, you only grow bolder as you take hold of his hand and slip into your bikini, letting him feel just how aroused you are from him. He groans again. 

Bruce shouldn’t reward you. He really shouldn’t. It will just cause you to think that you can get away with this again, in the future. At the same time, he can’t help himself. He does so love to spoil you and you deserve to be spoiled. He presses his fingers up against your engorged clit, enjoying the stutter in your breathing. He plays with you for a moment, drawing soft, breathy noises from you, before finally pushing his fingers inside; loving the way your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘O’ shape. 

He has half a mind to finish you off right here, right now, but he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. It serves as a reminder that the two of you aren’t completely alone on the yacht. You whine when he pulls his hand out of your bikini.

“How about we move this to the cabin?” he suggests. 

“And if I want to stay and do it here instead?” You bring his slick covered fingers up to your lips and, one by one, start to suck them clean. The sight is almost enough to make him reconsider, but then he hears the clatter of plates and glasses.

“As much as I would love to–” he gestures with his head toward the open door– “I prefer being the only person knowing what you look like when you’re riding me.” 

You consider what he has said for a moment before nodding, deciding that he’s right. “Okay,” you agree with him. “And then we can have a copious amount of chocolate?” 

He laughs softly. Your sweet tooth is almost as bad as his own. Bruce sits up, getting you to wrap your legs around his hips before standing up. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and he rubs his nose against yours. “How about both at the same time?”

[nadvs]

hard to ignore (two-shot) (part two)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

content warning parental abandonment

» part one

» masterlist

Zach gets you and his daughter box seats for his next home game.

It happens to be on your first day back at work after his family leaves and he jokes that sooner is better than later, not only because his team might get knocked out of the playoffs, but also because Ella could change her mind about wanting to come.

The private space overlooking the stadium is small, only a handful of other people there, as the late afternoon sun shines over the rich green field.

You learned that Zach is a major league soccer player minutes into meeting him. You knew he had an unusual life and a certain level of notoriety as a professional athlete. But seeing the crowds filling the seats below you makes it real to you.

The music and the announcer’s voice boom through the stadium, fireworks going off as players rush the field. All this craziness doesn’t match the man you know. Zach is kind and humble and beneath his silly sense of humor, he has a gentleness to him that you’d never expect from someone whose last name is sprawled over fans’ jerseys, who’s getting cheered for so loudly that it’s deafening.

Ella excitedly claps when her father appears on the stadium screen, his face hard as he jogs under the bright lights. You gaze ahead in awe, unable to believe that this is the world he lives in when he’s not at the house, running around with his daughter, thanking you for everything you do.

After the game ends in a draw, you take Ella home in time for dinner. As you drive, wipers cleaning away the drizzle that just started to fall, she excitedly rambles about the experience from the backseat. You smile to yourself, glad that she enjoyed herself and proud that you’re the reason she went.

As usual, Ella slips out of her chair with a mouthful of food when she hears the front door open halfway into dinner. You watch her dart out of the dining room, listening to the huff Zach lets out every time his daughter roughly launches herself into his arms.

“That was so cool!” you overhear.

“Really?” he says. “You didn’t get bored?”

“Um, it was kind of too long,” she says, “but I had pictures to color.”

“Appreciate your honesty,” Zach replies with a laugh.

They round the corner to enter the dining room and when Zach’s eyes land on you, your heart does a somersault.

“Hey,” he says to you, nervous.

“Hi,” you reply. “Thanks for the fancy seats.”

“They were alright?”

“Good enough for two princesses,” you tease.

“Princess ballerinas,” Ella corrects you as she sits down again.

“Right,” you say. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that we’re princess ballerinas now.”

Zach mirrors your smile, loving the feeling of sharing a moment like this with you. You stand to clean your plate and it reminds him of what his mother said a couple of nights ago. That you look at him the same way he looks at you.

He hopes that it’s true, because he can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s a little embarrassed that you saw him in a match. He’s always loved soccer, but he never liked how much attention is on him as a major league player.

“Maybe you should wait out the rain,” Zach says to you. “It started coming down hard on my drive home.”

“Good idea,” you say, happy to spend more time with him.

The rest of dinner consists of Ella happily chattering with you and Zach. As she clears her plate, Zach’s phone buzzes on the table top. His lips purse in worry at the notification, and then he shows you the severe thunderstorm warning message on his screen.

“That looks bad,” you say. “How long is it supposed to go on for?”

“It says into the early morning,” Zach answers. “Do you want to crash here?”

“I’m sure I could make it home,” you say. “I’ll just drive slowly.”

Zach’s lips part, and then he closes his mouth, simply nodding.

“What?” you chuckle. His eyes dart away.

“Just worried about you,” he admits. You huff an endeared laugh.

“Fine. I’ll sleep here,” you decide.

He sighs a breath of relief and says, “Thanks.”

Zach takes Ella to bed and you settle on the couch, glad you already have everything you’ll need in your overnight bag in the guest room. You eventually hear his footsteps coming down the stairs over the sounds of the television and the rain hammering down on the roof.

He sits on the other end of the couch next to you, so far that a person could easily sit between you. It’s typical Zach, never getting too close to you. The only time he’s ever touched you is when he shook your hand before your interview half a year ago.

“She fell asleep while I was explaining what offside means,” he says with an adorably puzzled expression. “Trying not to be offended.”

“I can’t believe she’s actually interested in soccer,” you say.

“Ouch.” Zach puts his hand over his heart. “Okay, I’m offended now.”

“I mean because you said she never cared before,” you laugh.

“I asked her so many times if she’d want to come to a game,” he huffs. “But you suggest it once and she’s immediately in. She always listens to you.”

“Not when I’m trying to convince her to leave the park,” you say. He chuckles. “Can you believe she’s starting kindergarten soon?”

Admittedly, Zach’s concerned about it. In less than a month, Ella will be going to school and he never was one to have much anxiety before he became a father, but all he does now is worry. He doesn’t want any teachers or kids to be harsh with his little girl. She’s already been through enough.

“She’ll be okay,” you say.

“What?”

“You have that worried look on your face,” you tell him. “She’ll love school. I’m sure of it.”

“You can read me pretty well,” he says, smiling. You shrug timidly, thinking back to how quickly he’d noticed something was bothering you on the night of Ella’s birthday.

“What?” he asks.

“It goes both ways,” you admit. “You saw right through me after the party.”

Zach’s jaw tightens, the playfulness between you replaced by a fragile air. He takes a breath before speaking. He knows he needs to have this conversation with you.

“Do you feel better about what she said?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. Now that you’ve had some time to process, you’re okay. “How about you?”

“Well,” he begins, nerves tightening in his stomach, “it wasn’t easy to hear. Ella shouldn’t have to wish she had a different mom. Jade should be here for her.”

He’s never said her name. He’s never looked like this before, his eyes avoiding yours, hand trembling a bit as he scratches his jaw. You can tell this is hard for him to talk about. But he’s choosing to do it with you.

“You said ex-wife that night, but she was never my wife,” Zach admits.

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know I haven’t told you much. When we talked that night, it reminded me of just how much you don’t know about it. I just… I hope you know that you’re… you’re so much more than Ella’s nanny. You’re our friend. And you’re obviously a mother figure to her. And it feels weird that you don’t know what happened.”

His words sink into you, every syllable having an effect on your heartbeat.

“What happened?”

“Ella was a surprise,” he tells you. “Jade and I were dating in our senior year of college when we found out she was pregnant. And then I got drafted into the league and we graduated and everything was happening so fast, but we were happy and… I stayed happy and she didn’t.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, looking at him as his eyes stay trained off of yours.

“We broke up a few months after Ella was born. But we were both sure we could handle co-parenting. She stayed at home while I worked. I could see she didn’t like it, though. She wasn’t a bad mother or anything. She just wasn’t very… affectionate with Ella.”

Your chest tightens. It’s painful to imagine Ella wanting love and not getting it.

“I don’t know. I thought she’d eventually feel how I feel about being a parent. I tried everything,” Zach says, remembering how he’d encouraged Jade to go to therapy or take time away or work while they hired help. It was like she was stuck in her unhappiness. “But then she left and… that was it.”

He finally looks at you and the tenderness in your eyes gives him a breath of fresh air. It’s what you do. Just by being you, you give him the push to stay hopeful that he and his daughter will be okay.

“We weren’t in a good place when you came. But you made things so much better,” he says. “You do an amazing job taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”

Your eyes light up, the smile on your face gentle.

“Thank you for saying that,” you say. “And thank you for telling me the full story. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Zach sighs now that the weight of reliving it is gone.

“I really do love her. I meant it when I said it.” At this point, you’re sure you love him, too, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. “And I feel lucky to get to watch her grow up. This doesn’t even feel like a job to me anymore.”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you don’t want the pay?” he says. You find relief in his joke, tossing your head back with a laugh. “Seriously, though, let me know if you need me to keep things the same while you’re part-time during the school year. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, are you offering to pay me for hours I’m not even working?” you chuckle. “Zach, no. I’m good. I have other things lined up. But thank you.”

“What? Everyone knows you should always accept free money.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say. “How do you even have the energy to joke around right now? I just watched you run around for ninety minutes.”

Like always, Zach blushes when you bring up his job. He’s intense and focused on the pitch, but he’s different when he’s at ease at home.

“There’s a break in the middle,” he replies.

“I stand corrected,” you say. “So, how’d you get into soccer?”

Your conversation quickly and easily drifts into topics you hadn’t explored before, the storm raging outside as you learn more about him and he learns more about you. He’s still on the other end of the couch, but soon, his arm is resting against the back of it, his hand inches away from you as you sink into the soft cushions, beaming at each other as you talk.

You don’t want to stop, but eventually you can’t stifle your yawn, prompting Zach to check his watch.

“Jeez,” he says. “Ella went down three hours ago.”

“Are you serious?” You sit up. “That flew by.”

Zach knew that the more he learned about you, the more of a goner he’d be. It feels like he just went on the best date of his life and all he did was sit on his couch and talk.

There’s something between you and he hopes that it’s not just his infatuation misguiding him.

────୨ৎ────

You were right. He had nothing to worry about. Ella’s more than happy at school. It’s only a week into the year and she’s already naming all her new friends when Zach picks her up Friday afternoon.

Her first dance recital is tonight and he’s looking forward to seeing you and his family there. Ella had even mentioned that her other grandparents could come. They were elated to get the invitation.

And of course, when he arrives at the studio that evening, you’re already there, reliable and steady like you always are. You greet him and his family warmly and introduce yourself to Jade’s parents.

It feels wrong to hear you refer to yourself as Ella’s nanny. You’ve been in his life for eight months now and you’ve nestled your way into his soul so deeply that he knows you’ll stay with him forever.

He’s been grappling with this since he first realized he had feelings for you; this bothersome sense of wrong. He can’t pursue you. Technically, no matter how much it doesn’t feel like it, he is your boss. He pays you to take care of his child. If things went sideways, it could push you to leave.

Although he’s never felt this much love for a woman in his life, it’d be selfish. He can’t do it to Ella. He didn’t even want to date other women when Jade was still around simply because it could confuse his daughter.

But you’re different.

His thoughts are interrupted when you look at him, pulling him out of his haze.

“I saved us seats,” you tell him.

Zach’s sitting between you and his father when the recital starts. Eventually, Ella drifts across the middle of the floor between the other dancers.

“This is the part she’s nervous about,” you whisper to him, recalling how she’d told you that this part in the choreography makes her trip sometimes.

You watch her hop sideways, focused as the music grows faster. You’re so on edge that you don’t realize your hand slips into Zach’s, squeezing nervously. She lands her last skip and rejoins the group. You let out a sigh of relief. Then, you look down, seeing your fingers wrapped around Zach’s.

“Sorry,” you say, trying to laugh it off as you pull your hand back. “I think I’m taking a five-year-old’s dance recital a little too seriously.”

Zach can only offer a tight smile. His team’s inching closer to advancing to the championship semi-finals and the pressure has never been heavier, but even that hasn’t affected him like the tension he’s feeling right now. His whole body is on fire from your touch, and it won’t go away.

When the recital comes to an end, Zach leans closer to you to murmur over the applause surrounding you.

“You going out to dinner with us?” he asks.

“Do I have to?” you quip.

“What, you got a date or something?” He worries that the joke was too much. Too flirty.

But you laugh and say, “I haven’t had a date or something in forever. Yeah, I’ll come.” Although it’s hard to believe that a woman like you is single, he’s glad you are.

The eight of you sit in the busy restaurant, making conversation. As Zach expected, Ella insisted she sit next to you. You have endless patience for her, listening to her talk, answering her questions, letting her pick off your plate. He would move mountains for his child. He can tell you’d do the same.

Zach picks up the bill and you all say your goodbyes to Jade’s parents, who insisted they didn’t need to stay the night. Before you head out, you tell his family it was nice to see them again. He can tell you’re a little surprised when his mother pulls you in for a hug, but you kindly return it.

Connie obviously appreciates everything you’ve done for her son and granddaughter. Zach tries not to daydream too much, but he likes imagining being your boyfriend and telling you that his mom called that you’d become something one day.

When you say bye to Zach, your gazes meet like you’ve been waiting for a private moment for ages. Things changed on the night you stayed over. You went from friends to a gray area of something more, neither of you acting on it but knowing it’s there.

Only an hour after Ella falls asleep, Zach’s parents and sister turn in for the night, tired from their drive in. Zach is too wired, silently sitting in his living room, his tea not having its usual effect of soothing him.

He goes through his camera roll, wishing he could go for a drive to relax, but not wanting to leave his daughter in case she needs him. He stares at a photo his mother took of you and him and Ella earlier tonight after the recital, Ella’s hair frizzy from all the jumping around she did.

His smile is wide and so is yours and you look like more than just someone he hired to help take care of his daughter. You look like a family.

He opens your conversation and sends you the photo. It’s nearing 10 p.m. and he’s not sure if you’re already asleep, but you respond a minute later: Aw I love this. Thanks :) How’s your night going?

Zach responds: Good… but everyone’s asleep and I’m still wide awake. Yours?

You reply: Is your tea not working?

He smiles to himself and texts back: Not this time.

You text: I’m kind of wired, too.

How come?

Not sure.

He replies with a joke: Could be Ella’s fault. I saw her eat a lot of your dinner. It’s probably hunger keeping you awake.

Once again, his mind drifts to the way your palm felt against the back of his hand tonight. Then, he hears a door open upstairs. In case it’s Ella, he quietly rushes up the stairs to run into his mom, who’s leaving the bathroom.

“Sorry,” he whispers when he startles her. “I thought Ella woke up and I didn’t want her to think I was gone.”

“I’m sure she’ll be deep asleep until the morning,” Connie says. She notices he’s still in the clothes he wore to the recital. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’d go for a drive, but I–”

“If she wakes up, I’m here and if she needs you, I’ll call. Go. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Go for a drive,” his mother insists. “She’s okay. I promise.”

Zach considers it. With work and Ella and you, his mind has been sort of chaotic. A drive, even a short one, will give him some relief.

“Thanks,” he finally says, giving his mom a grateful smile.

The streetlights plunge him in and out of darkness as he drives through town. When he got in the car, the impulse to go see you seemed ridiculous. With every minute that passes, it feels less and less silly.

Zach eventually pulls over and looks at his phone, staring at the text message he sent you ten minutes ago. How could he even ask to come over without coming on too strong or crossing a boundary?

He’s not sure if he believed in signs from the universe before, but when you text him right when he’s considering if he should text you, he takes it as his answer.

Nothing is ever her fault. But now I’m having a midnight snack lol. Are you still awake?

He replies: Yes. Just driving around. Do you want company?

He’s nervous as he waits. But then you send him your address.

Minutes later, you open your door to gentle knocks, heart skipping when you see him. At this point, being apart from Zach is starting to hurt. You lied when you texted him. You know exactly why you’re wired. It’s because he won’t leave your mind.

“Hi,” he says, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Kind of crazy that you’ve been to my house a million times, but I have no idea what your place looks like.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask. “You need to see it that bad?”

“I think it’s what’s keeping me awake.”

You laugh, stepping back, inviting him in. Zach’s eyes travel over your apartment, taking in every little piece that you’ve put into it. Being here is more intimate than he expected. And then you shut the door behind him, thickening the tension, both of you now sharing complete privacy in a way you never have before.

“Is that an Ella original?” he says, pointing to a drawing stuck on your fridge.

“Yup. That’s me and her and the castle we live in,” you tell him. You lead him into the kitchen as you gaze at the bright crayon marking the paper. “And that’s her horse. She was very adamant about it being her horse. But I can pet it if I ask nicely.”

He laughs and gazes at the drawing, touched that you’d keep something his daughter made up on display. Even when you’re not at the house, you want to be reminded of her.

“Where am I?” he asks in mock offense.

“I’m sure she meant to include you, but the horse took up too much space,” you explain, looking over your shoulder up at him. He’s inches away from you, towering above you. You’re so close to him that you can see the stubble growing over his jaw.

“The tutus are a nice touch,” he says, pointing to the pink skirts drawn on both of you. You laugh and turn to face him all the way. You clear your throat, smitten that he’s really here.

“She was great tonight, huh?” you ask.

“She was.” Zach’s smile is bright, the same way it always is whenever he talks about her. “And she wanted all the grandparents there.”

“I think that’s progress.”

“Me, too.” He exhales. “It was an almost perfect night.”

“Almost?”

“My hand still hurts,” he mumbles, face pinching as he looks down at his hand.

“Listen…” you say with a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, okay? I was stressed.” Zach laughs and it takes everything in him not to hug you. “Was it really that bad?”

“So bad,” he teases, flexing his hand. “You’re too reckless.”

“Reckless? Is that what you think of me?”

Zach cocks his head, staring down at you with a look that burns through you, and soberly says, “No. It’s not.”

His gaze drifts over your face, taking you in slowly. You think back to the first time you saw those eyes, sad and distant. Comparing the way he looked that morning to how he’s gazing at you right now is like comparing black and white.

The light atmosphere has quickly been replaced by a somberness hanging over both of you. Your heart is thumping against your chest. Hard.

“What, then?” you ask.

How can he even find the words to describe how you make him feel? You fit perfectly in every way. You settled into his life like there was always a place waiting just for you. Even tonight, when you grabbed his hand for only a moment, it felt like he was born to be touched by you.

You’ve brought light to his life. He always looked forward to coming home to his daughter, and now he looks forward to coming home to you, too. And having to continue to live like this, acting like his heart isn’t completely yours, is torture.

“I think you’re…” Zach’s tone is low, lids dropping as he looks at your lips before he speaks again. “Perfect.”

Your breath catches. You’ve been able to keep yourself away from him for what feels like ages. You’re not sure you’ll have the strength for much longer. This is the moment where everything can change. You know you both feel it.

“Should I not be here?” he says quietly.

It’s his way of making sure you’re okay. That you want him to be here as badly as he wants to be here. That even though maybe this shouldn’t be happening, you have faith that it will only bring you both joy, and you don’t need to consider the risks because you’ll never have to face them.

He looks so painfully unsure that you long to comfort him. Your hand finds his and he laces his warm fingers between yours the instant he feels you. He exhales slowly, never having felt so vulnerable before.

Too much is on the line. He’s only thinking of himself right now. He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have given in, he shouldn’t have–

“Stay,” you whisper. Your simple word untangles the knot in his chest. You step closer to seal the distance that remains between you. His eyes finally drift back up to find yours.

“I can’t help how I feel about you,” Zach murmurs. “I don’t want to mess up how good things are, but I just…”

He trails off into silence, sighing shakily.

“I know,” you say. “Me, too.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says with a note of pity. You breathe a sad chuckle.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you here.”

Zach’s grip on your hand tightens, his heart feeling like it’s just been put together after being fractured for years. His lips part and while he doesn’t know how to say how much your words mean to him, he knows how to show it.

He leans closer, cupping your face, capturing your lips with a soft and impatient kiss. You dissolve into bliss, eyelids fluttering closed as his hot mouth presses against yours, head swimming, body buzzing.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, eyelashes overlapping as you kiss deeply, hungrily tasting each other in adoration. His arms circle around you and surround you in warmth.

He lets out a short, almost silent moan against your lips, relieved and assured and grateful that you want him this badly, too. Everything about this feels right. He’s where he’s supposed to be, standing here, kissing you, baring his soul.

You’re breathless when you eventually pull away, eyes slowly opening as he tilts to plant a lazy kiss on your forehead, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“I kept telling myself that I can’t like you,” he says against your skin. “Do you have any idea how impossible that is?”

You exhale a contented sigh, afraid that you did actually doze off and that this is all just a dream.

“I think I do,” you reply.

Zach’s laugh is breathy, leaning back just enough to look at you. He’s in awe, his lips tender from pressing against yours, his knees weak as he holds your face in his hands. Now that he doesn’t have to hide it or force himself not to stare, he lets himself drown in your eyes.

He brushes his lips against yours again and you smile under the kiss, placing your palm over his hand.

“Is this the hand I hurt?” you tease, gently squeezing.

“Ow,” he playfully winces, making you laugh. You nuzzle your cheek against his palm and smile up at him.

“You sure you like me?” you say. He’s sure he loves you, but it’s too much, too soon to say at this moment. “You know you can’t afford any injuries right now.”

“Worth it,” Zach plays along.

“I keep wanting to ask you about work,” you say. He hasn’t spoken much about playoffs, but you did a little research on his team’s standings. “How has it been? Are you stressed?”

“Pressure’s on, but I’m fine,” he says simply. Your words won’t find you at first. It’s sort of unbelievable how he doesn’t ever flaunt his success, not even a little bit.

“That’s it?” you laugh.

“What?”

“Your team could go to the finals and you’re just fine?” you say.

“How’d you know that?” he says, his heart warming.

“Had to look it up. Not like you’ll tell me,” you quip, pulling away, his hands falling off of you. Zach chuckles, following you into your living room.

“Are we fighting already?” he asks.

“We won’t be if you tell me why you get all cute and shy whenever you talk about your job,” you say, settling on the couch.

He sits to face you, his knee bumping yours. You love that he’s as close as you want him to be, instead of keeping a distance like before. He finds your hands, holding them in his.

“Just a second,” Zach mumbles. “I need to process that you called me cute.”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle against his chest.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. “We talk about my job all the time.”

“Oh, come on. Because we have to. That’s the whole deal.”

“Is it?”

Zach sighs, kissing the top of your head, loving the way your body slightly shakes with your laughter. You sit up again, looking down as you interlace your fingers with his, playing with his hands as you wait for him to speak.

“I love soccer,” he says, “but I never expected I’d be good enough to go pro. And somehow, I did and all the attention that comes with it is just… it’s not me. I’ve never been the loudest guy in the room. Never wanted to be.”

You nod. You could tell soon after meeting him that while he’s confident and loves to joke around, he’s not one to demand the spotlight.

“And now the more attention I get,” he continues, “the more people might want to know about me and I’d rather keep Ella safe and give her a normal life.”

He scratches his cheek, uncertainty flashing on his face.

“And… I’m not exactly proud that I’m not working a normal job. I’m always thinking that maybe it’d be better for Ella if I had a nine to five, but the pay is great and I can’t play forever, so I just want to save up as much as I can for her. Then I’ll find something more steady.”

You're sure you’ve never met a person this humble. It’s nice to know what goes on in his head after having wondered for so long.

“Will you still even need a nanny then?” you ask lightheartedly. Zach purses his lips as he nods.

“I will if she’s you.” You smile as he pulls you in, holding you as your cheek rests against his shoulder.

“I don’t think there’s anything that you shouldn’t be proud of,” you tell him. “You’re an amazing father.”

“You don’t know how nice it is to hear you say that,” he admits. The worries that he’s being selfish have been gnawing at him for a long time. He’s always concerned he’s making the wrong choices for his daughter.

“I think it every time I see you with her. I know you said she was a surprise, but you treat her like being her dad is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Zach leans to kiss your forehead over and over again, palm gently pressed on your cheek, like he’s making up for all the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. You start to giggle under all the kisses, hugging him tighter.

“Speaking of,” you say, “I’m sure you’re thinking it, too, but we should keep acting like we’re just friends when we’re around our boss.”

He breathes a chuckle, nodding as he looks down at you lovingly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it slow. She’ll be so happy when we tell her.”

“You think so?” you say, your heart blooming from the certainty in his words, from the way he unabashedly intends on being with you and telling his daughter.

“She’s always asking me if I like you.” Truthfully, Ella asks if he loves you, but again, he doesn’t want to use that word until he’s sure you’re comfortable with it.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “She actually asks if I like you yet. It’s like she knows it’s inevitable.”

You realize that the way you’re wrapped up in each other does feel like it was always inevitable. You know that your heart would never have been able to resist him. You’re glad he feels the same way about you.

────୨ৎ────

A week after the night in your apartment is the semi-final. You’re sitting in the living room playing with Ella with the game on in the background. She’s partly interested, whereas you can’t ignore the ball of nerves sitting deep in your stomach.

Zach’s been opening up more about his job when you get time alone, admitting that the pressure can give him tunnel-vision sometimes. You’ve taken on the workload as much as you can so that he’s not too stressed.

You’ve kept things the same when you’re around Ella and you’ve already determined that if she asks why you’re so invested in what’s on tv, you’ll simply say you grew an interest in soccer after the home game you both attended. But she’s too busy playing with clay to care.

The first half ends with no goals scored. You set up an afternoon snack for Ella, letting her help, your mind elsewhere as you imagine Zach in the locker room, wondering what his coach is telling him and what he’s thinking about at this moment.

Five minutes after half-time, the opponents score. Your heart sinks. Twenty minutes later, Zach scores. You have to stifle how loudly you want to cheer.

Then, the game goes to penalty shoot-outs. Zach had told you how much he hates when a game comes down to that. It’s a nail-biting few minutes, but Zach’s team wins, securing their spot in the finals. In his next game, his team could take the cup.

Right before dinner, you and Ella change into the jerseys you’d secretly bought a few days ago. Zach already told you that even if his team wants to celebrate a win together, he’d prefer to see you two, so you know he’s coming straight home.

He steps through the front door to see you in his team’s jerseys, rushing to give him a hug. Your arms are around his shoulders while Ella’s are around his hips, both of you excitedly cheering. Zach’s heart has never felt so full.

“So, I take it you watched it?” he mumbles into your hair, reveling in the familiar aroma of your shampoo. It takes everything in you not to kiss him when you pull back.

“You did amazing,” you tell him.

“Daddy, do cats ever come to your games?” Ella asks.

Zach looks at you, puzzled.

“There was a commercial with clips of animals crashing soccer games,” you explain, laughing. “It’s a valid question.”

“I haven’t seen any,” he tells her, kneeling to meet her eyeline. “But I hope we get one so I can tell you all about it.”

“Could we keep it?” she asks.

“If a cat comes onto our field and it doesn’t have an owner, sure, we can keep it,” he says. She jumps excitedly, then runs off to play. Zach stands up again, grinning at you.

“Don’t let her watch any more matches,” he says. “If a cat shows up, I’m done for.” You laugh, crossing your arms simply to keep yourself from touching him.

“Congratulations,” you say. “I know you don’t like the attention, but you deserve it.”

“Thanks.” He looks down at your jersey. “It looks great on you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to show him the back. It’s his last name and number. He almost can’t believe this is really happening, that he met someone like you who cares about him this much.

“Better on you, I think,” you say.

“Impossible.”

You face him and he gazes at your lips in the way you know means he wants to kiss you. In the few private moments you’ve had since you confessed your feelings for each other, you’ve shared warm hugs and sweet kisses. You can’t wait until you don’t have to hide your love for him anymore.

“Dinner in twenty,” you tell him. “I bet you worked up an appetite.”

Zach’s legs are heavy as he trudges up the stairs, partly from fatigue, but mostly because the last thing his body wants to do is be away from you.

────୨ৎ────

Zach’s family drives in to watch the championship game at the house. You weren’t all that nervous around them before, but now that you and Zach are privately dating, you’re eager to impress them.

He had mentioned to you that he hadn’t told them about you yet, but he’s hoping to the next time he sees them. He also told you how his mom had a suspicion about you two, which makes you hope you’re not too obvious.

It’s only been a couple of weeks since you decided to date, but every moment you get alone with Zach isn’t long enough. You knew he was kind-hearted, but now that he’s not holding back, he showers you with affection and compliments, reminding you of how much he appreciates you every day.

Just like it is with Zach, it’s easy with his family. You talk and snack and take turns playing with Ella while you watch the game. The game starts off as promising, but unfortunately, the final ends with a loss for his team.

“He did tell me they were kind of the underdogs,” you say to his family sadly, watching the screen. “I still think it’s great that he got this far.”

The stadium he’s playing in is hours away and he won’t be getting home until after midnight. You spend the rest of the evening with Zach’s family, wishing you could see him and give him a comforting hug.

When Zach gets to the locker room, dejected and disappointed, he checks his phone to see a text from you. I know it’s not how you wanted the season to end, but you played an amazing game. We’re all so proud of you, no matter what.

It’s ten minutes past midnight when you hear the front door open. You’ve been sitting in the kitchen, staying awake on your phone after everyone turned in for the night. You turn on the kettle you already filled with water and find Zach in the dim hallway, meeting his eyes with sympathy.

“You’re here,” he mumbles in surprise. You only close the distance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly.

“Wanted to see you,” you whisper. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had better days,” he admits, kissing your neck. “This feels good, though.”

“I’m making you some tea if you want it,” you tell him, “but if you’d rather go to bed, I get it.”

“Tea sounds good.” He pulls back, stroking your cheek. “You’re really proud of me? Even though I’m a total loser?”

You half-chuckle, nudging him.

“Never call yourself that again,” you say.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll stop ‘accidentally’ making too much food,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him.

You settle in the kitchen, reminded of the first time you sat together like this all those months ago to plan Ella’s birthday party. Now she’s halfway to six years old, growing faster than you could have ever anticipated.

After you put the steaming mug of tea in front of him, Zach puts his hand over yours, squeezing.

“I tried to be positive but I saw it coming,” he admits to you. “They were the stronger team. We’ll just train harder and hopefully get them next year.”

“And I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you say. “Just don’t beat yourself up over this, okay? You’re not a loser.”

“Baby…” Zach breathes a chuckle. “Being with you makes me feel like I’m always winning. It sucks to get this far and to put so much work in just to lose, but knowing you and Ella are waiting for me at home… That's what my life is really about.”

You stare at him, awestruck, heart beating so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“I love you,” he says. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon to say, but I’ve loved you for a long time.”

You bite your lip, giving into the urge to lean closer and kiss him. When you pull back, palm resting on his cheek, you smile.

“I love you, too,” you say. “It’s not too soon.”

“Phew. I was more nervous about telling you than I was about the game,” he says. You laugh, pinching his cheek.

“Stop being so cute,” you whisper.

“I can’t help it,” he quips. “I didn’t forget how you said you haven’t been on a date in forever. What do you think about tomorrow night? Ella will stay with my family and you and I can go out for dinner.”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. You chat a little longer before you head home.

When Zach tells his mother he’s taking you out for dinner the next morning, she’s overjoyed to hear that you’re an item now and throws in a few ‘I told you so’s. When the evening rolls around, he tells Ella he’s running some errands and instead drives to pick you up from your place.

Sitting across from you at a restaurant on a real date feels like a dream. He holds your hand on the table and nudges your knee with his every so often, unable to keep his hands off of you like usual. It’s like talking with a best friend, the conversation flowing so naturally that he refuses to believe he’s only known you for just shy of a year.

When he drives you home after dinner, you lose track of time kissing him goodnight.

────୨ৎ────

You and Zach had discussed that today would be the day. Now that you’ve been together for over eight months, he’s ready to tell Ella.

It’s a Saturday and Zach’s making lunch while you and Ella set the table. Long gone are the days of spending just a few minutes together, one of you arriving at the house while the other one gets ready to leave. The three of you are almost always a unit now, settled into a routine.

After lunch, you leave as planned so he can talk to her one-on-one. Zach finds Ella drawing on her bedroom floor after he says his goodbyes to you and knocks on her door.

“What are you drawing?” he asks.

She holds up the paper, three figures under the shining sun. When he asks if that’s you, him, and her, she happily nods.

Zach settles on the floor, watching the way she colors in the yellow sun, her legs kicking in the air. He’s seen a change in his child. There’s no doubt about it.

While she was always a happy kid, she’s grown to be much more expressive and affectionate since you stepped into their lives. You bring out the best in her. The best in him, too.

He tries to force down the tears that come up every time he looks at his daughter and thinks about what happened a year ago. She’s too small to have to know the pain of abandonment and betrayal. He pushes away the thought.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Zach says, clearing his throat.

“Do you want another bracelet?” she says.

Zach smirks, looking down at the beaded bracelet on his wrist that she made for him a few days ago. She made you a matching one that you always wear, too.

“Yeah, if you’re not too busy,” he says. “But that’s not it.”

He says it exactly as he rehearsed, telling her how happy you make him and asking if she’s okay with you being his girlfriend. When she grins up at him and asks if that means that you can move in with them, he chuckles, tears pricking his eyes.

Zach always felt like he needed to make up for the love Ella’s mother wasn’t giving her. Now, there’s nothing to make up for, nothing missing. He wishes the circumstances had been different, but he knows he’s lucky that he met you.

He was sure soon after he got to know you that his daughter would grow to love you. Deep down, he was sure that he would grow to love you, too.

────୨ৎ────

It’s past nine p.m. when Zach gets home from training. Now that he’s in the midst of playoffs again, he doesn’t get as much time at home anymore, but he takes it in stride.

When he can’t find you on the main floor, he tiptoes upstairs in case you’ve fallen asleep putting Ella to bed. Sure enough, she’s snuggled up next to you, both of you snoozing.

It’s been a month since he told her about your relationship and somehow, she’s grown to love you even more now that she knows you love her dad. Zach wonders if Ella can see how much happier he is these days. He tried to hide how empty he felt before, but maybe she caught on.

He’d rather not know. He’s rather not think about the past at all, really. Because right now, as he gazes into his daughter’s bedroom to see you hugging each other in your sleep, he knows he’s looking at his future.

(the end)

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[janeyseymour]

Stolen For Love

an anon asked for Ellie with Sweet Cheeks, so bringing this sweet little family back... and @notinmyvocab just wanted Sweet Cheeks in general... so I present to you, fluff.

WC: ~3.7k

When Ellie is in second grade, she’s placed in Janine’s classroom. With Melissa being her mother, it wasn’t in the question to put her in your wife’s classroom; apparently nepotism and favoritism is something that Abbott takes seriously- one of the few things that your school takes seriously. You supposed that it would be quite odd for your daughter to be in your class next year too, although you hope to God that your grade level partner does well with her. 

It’s also the year that Janine has somehow managed to convince the district to give you funds for class pets.

At first, Melissa had been beyond resistant to the idea. You begrudgingly took in a hamster. You had to choke back your laughter when Gregory was ecstatic to get his requested pet rock.

You’re fairly certain that your wife was in the clear in terms of getting a pet- Janine hadn’t said anything else to you in regards to the fact that the redhead wanted nothing to do with a pet. 

But then, just by chance, Melissa ends up passing the library while her counterpart is still handing out animals. She calls for your wife. And for some unknown reason, the redhead makes her way in. She exits with a guinea pig. And she looks pissed beyond belief.

You take your little rodent with you to catch up with the woman with a significantly bigger rodent. “Hun, I thought you said that weren’t going to give in even if Janine tried to push it on you.”

She huffs. “Yeah, well… her kids were talking to mine the other day when she was prepping her kids for it, and now… I look like the asshole if I don’t give my kids a stupid ass class pet.”

You smile at her sympathetically. “Trust me, I don’t want it either, but…”

“I can’t believe I was happy when pipsqueak decided to come back to Abbott,” your wife grumbles. 

“Hey,” you nudge her gently. “You love her.”

“She’s damn lucky.”

“And I heard her say that she would take care of it for you.”

“An’ if she doesn’t keep her end of the deal up, I’m gonna end up with a dead guinea pig and a class full of sad kids.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m sure that Janine will go above and beyond for that guinea pig of yours. She tries to go above and beyond in everything she does.”

“Yeah,” your wife huffs. “That’s how we got into this stupid mess in the first place.”

Come the end of the day, your third graders are absolutely infatuated with that little rodent on yours in the classroom. They’ve named her Squeaky- how original. Each one of your students passes by the cage with a sweet “Have a good night, Squeaky!” as you lead them out to the front of the school for dismissal.

Melissa comes out with her students not much later, and she looks beyond pissed. You have to say, you didn’t think a guinea pig would disrupt her class flow as much as she’s making it seem it is. You make your way over with a smile, hoping that will soften her up before you go home for the night.

“How was the rest of your day?” you tread waters lightly. She just presses a soft kiss to your head in response.

Ellie comes bouncing over with the brightest grin on her face. “Moms!” She launches herself at you- you catch her; you always do.

“Hi, my sweet,” you bury a kiss in her wild hair. “How was school today?”

“Miss Teagues got us a guinea pig! Her name is Miss Piggy!” Ellie announcing with a beaming smile. 

“She would name it that,” the redhead mutters to you, nudging you gently.

You just smirk. “She really would.”

It takes a few more minutes for all of your students to be picked up, and then you’re heading back inside to gather your things for the night. You make sure that Squeaky is loaded up on food and water before flicking off the lights and heading to the room next door. You can hear the guinea pig in the redhead’s room squeaking incessantly.

“He’s so cute, Mom!” Ellie grins up at Melissa as she holds the furry animal with such care.

“He’s lucky,” your wife grumbles.

“Miss Piggy won’t let us hold her,” your daughter tells her other mother seriously. “She bites Miss Teagues.”

“Well, Sweet Cheeks knows that if he bites me, he’s being flung against the-” the redhead stops herself before she can finish her sentence. “Nevermind.”

“I think Sweet Cheeks needs a nice house,” Ellie suggests as she puts the animal back in his cage. “And better food. And a cooler water bottle.”

The guinea pig squeaks, whether that be in agreement or because he’s upset that he’s been put back into his holding cell for the night, nobody knows- but your little girl squeals. “See? Even Sweet Cheeks agrees.”

Melissa looks down at her class pet with warm eyes. “You really want to do that?” You’re not sure if she’s speaking to the rodent or to your daughter, but your little girl replies. 

“Please!” Ellie begs, and her puppy dog eyes are strong. Sweet Cheeks squeaks.

You watch your wife pet the little critter through the cage before checking that he has enough food and water to last him until tomorrow. “I guess we’re going to the pet store tonight for a stupid pet I didn’t even want.”

You opt to stay home and cook dinner while your daughter drags your wife out to the pet store a few blocks down. You manage to get the meal out of the pot and plated, put on the dinner table, and they still aren’t home yet.

You put the plates in the microwave and oven to keep them warm before settling on the couch with some of the papers that you’ve yet to look over. It’s still a bit of time before the two walk in- or rather, Melissa walks in with multiple bags while Ellie skips in with a lollipop in her mouth.

“Melissa…” you furrow a brow. Then you look to your little girl .”Elizabeth.”

“Mom said I could!” your daughter protests immediately, pointing a finger at her other mother.

“She was good in the stores,” the redhead tells you. “It’s a lollipop hun. It’s not like it’ll spoil dinner.”

“Stores?” your furrowed brow turns into a raised brow.

Melissa sighs and drops the bags- you can immediately see that one is from the pet store and the other is from Michael’s. “The huts that they had for the guinea pigs were shit, so El and I are gonna make a better one for Sweet Cheeks after dinner.”

“Oh?” you chuckle.

“It’s gonna be the best house that a guinea pig has ever had!” Ellie announces with a grin.

“Well, you two better start eating dinner,” you laugh as you set your papers aside and go to pull the meal out of where you had stored it.

Dinner is wonderful, and then your two favorite people clear it and begin to set out on this quest that they’ve created for themselves while you settle back down on the couch to finish your grading.

It’s a couple of hours later, and they still aren’t finished, but you know that your daughter has to get in the shower and get ready for bed. 

Your little girl protests immediately, wanting Sweet Cheeks to have that home ready as soon as possible- she claims that the little hut the district had offered up just wouldn’t do. When you questions if her classroom pet was okay with it and why Sweet Cheeks wouldn’t, Ellie’s face sours. “Momma, Sweet Cheeks is fancy,” is all she offers you.

Melissa has to bite back her laugh. “El, go on upstairs and shower and get ready for bed. I’ll finish up his hut, and we’ll take it in tomorrow, okay?”

Your daughter grumbles something as she hands your wife her part of the hut and heads up the steps towards the bathroom.

“Comb your hair too!” you call up after her.

Only when your daughter is in the shower do you unfold your legs out from under you and make your way back into the dining room to see what creation they’ve started. This hut is… whether your wife wants to admit it or not, she’s falling in love with the little critter in her room. She’s so focused on making this wooden house that she completely misses the fact that you’ve walked into the room. Only when you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and press a kiss to her head does she realize that you’re right next to her.

“Jesus,” she gasps out as she jumps about a foot in the air. “Warn me next time!”

“Hun, I walked in front of you to get next to you, and I wasn’t quiet about it at all,” you chuckle. “Seems like you’re really into this hut building.”

Green eyes are rolled before she looks up at you. “I’m only doin’ this because your daughter thinks it’s necessary.”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Sure, babe. Well, I’ll let you get back to it, but you’ll take a break if you aren’t finished to help me put El to bed?”

“You know I never miss the bedtime routine,” your wife promises as she glues another popsicle stick together. 

Ellie comes jumping down the steps about twenty minutes later and immediately tries to run over to the craft.

“You just showered, little girl,” you cut in. “Come sit with Momma.”

“But I-”

Melissa comes into the room with the finished product behind her back. “It’s done anyway, hun.” She pulls it out in front of her and presents it with a smile. “Come sit with me and your momma while we do some grading.”

Your daughter investigates the redhead’s handiwork for a few seconds before smiling and snuggling up to you. 

The next morning, Ellie skips into your wife’s classroom with the supplies that they had bought for the guinea pig. She greets Sweet Cheeks with the softest voice, and her giggle is absolutely precious when he allows her to pick him up.

Together, your daughter and your wife situate the cage to their liking before your little girl takes the rodent to the back corner with a book and begins reading to him. When you catch Melissa taking a picture of the two of them and then joining them, you keep quiet.

Lunch is filled with your wife complaining about the guinea pig that she ‘just had to do so much for’. There’s a sparkle in your eye- she wouldn’t be making this much of a deal okay out of it if she truly hated the animal. She would ignore it in the way that she ignores people she can’t stand.

And then by the end of the day, you get a text that tells you Melissa had to leave just a few minutes early because she forgot she had an appointment, and she’s so sorry that you and Ellie will now have to take the bus or walk back home. You’re just the slightest bit confused when you read that message- she hadn’t written any appointments on the calendar for today. Still, you shrug and continue on for the last few minutes of the day.

At dismissal, Janine has your wife’s class, and she looks… why does she look like she knows something that she probably shouldn’t?

Ellie makes her way over to you with a smile that quickly turns into a frown when she doesn’t see Melissa standing next to you as she usually does. “Where’s Mom?”

“We’re going to have to walk back home today,” you tell your little girl with a ruffle to her hair. “Mom forgot she had some sort of appointment.”

“That’s what she’s calling it?” Janine cuts in. Then she hums suspiciously and walks away.

You roll your eyes- your shorter coworker can be so odd sometimes. With a shrug, you usher your daughter back into the building to gather your things. You’re not looking forward to this walk home. It’s getting colder, and you have quite a few things to lug back home with you to go through.

Luck seems to be on your side though, because Melissa’s name lights up your phone as you’re attempting to get Ellie to stop trying to pick up the hamster in your own classroom and out of the room.

“Melissa Schemmenti,” you grumble. “You better have a good reason to have abandoned me at work.”

“I didn’t,” your wife tells you. “I’m sitting out front- my appointment got canceled, so I came back to drive you and El home.”

“We’ll be out as soon as Elizabeth puts down Squeaky,” you tell the redhead, although you are giving your daughter a pointed look. How she got your hamster to let her hold it, you will never know.

Your little girl scrunches her nose at you, but she does listen. And then the two of you are heading out the front doors of the school, and there is the smiling redhead.

You get Ellie into the car and put your things in the back with her before sliding into the passenger seat, pecking your wife’s lips as you do so.

“Sorry for the confusion,” Melissa mumbles against your lips.

You chuckle. “Just be lucky I didn’t have to walk home with all of this shit, or I would’ve been a lot more pissed.”

The redhead knows that you are not going to be happy with her decision to bring home the guinea pig that she snuck out of her classroom- the real reason she left early for the day. So, she makes the choice to really attempt to butter you up- put you in a good mood so when you discover what she’s done, she won’t face your wrath to its full extent.

“I was thinking that maybe we go out for dinner tonight?” Melissa suggests softly.

You lift a brow. “What do you want from me that you’re buttering me up?”

Your wife smirks. “Nothin’. Just think we deserve to go out tonight- especially with the crap we’ve been dealing with from the district.”

“Like the class pets?”

“And other stuff,” the second grade teacher tells you. “Now c’mon, d’you wanna go out tonight or not?”

“I think that sounds nice,” you concede. “Where?”

“Where do you want to go?”

You, your wife, and your daughter all end up in one of your favorite cozy little diners in the city. It’s exactly the meal that you were hoping it would be- warm and cozy and filled with laughter. 

But then you come home, and Melissa stops you from entering the house before she does. She goes as far as grabbing your hand off of the front door knob.

“Mel,” you roll your eyes. “C’mon. I’m full, I’m tired, I have to shower.”

“Just- just promise me you won’t be mad?” your wife says, and she almost sounds nervous- scared.

“What did you do?” your eyes widen, yet your brows furrow.

“Nuh-uh,” Melissa shakes her head. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“I kind of did the opposite,” your wife shrugs.

You grumble under your breath, “What the fuck does that even mean?” and push the front door open. Almost immediately, you hear a squeaking noise that can only mean one thing.

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” you shout. “Did you actually steal Sweet Cheeks and bring him home?”

“You did what?!” Ellie also shouts, but her tone is much more excited than yours is. “Sweet Cheeks is here?!” Your little girl entirely abandons your side to follow the sound of the guinea pig noises and find her furry friend.

“Melissa!” you whip around and point an accusatory finger at her. “Tell me you didn’t.”

The redhead stays quiet.

“Melissa!”

Finally, she throws her hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, I did. But hear me out.”

“What am I supposed to hear you out about?” you ask her in disbelief. “You brought that rodent into our house when it’s supposed to-”

“Honey, I’m sorry, but I-”

“But you what?” you plant your hands on your hips.

Your wife has to stop herself from telling you how attractive you look when you’re pissed with her. “I just… I thought about how he was so sad when El put him back in his cage yesterday, and Janine told me the kids would take turns taking him home, and I… I fell for the little booger. I don’t want him getting hurt or nothin’.”

“Mom!” Ellie comes running into the room, and she’s all giggles as the little ball of fur cozies up to her chest. “Look! Sweet Cheeks is so happy to be getting extra Ellie cuddles!”

“I’m sure she is, El,” Melissa chuckles, and then she looks at you. “Look how happy the kid is, and Sweet Cheeks is gettin’ love in a safe space.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger as you close your eyes, sighing loudly. “Melissa.”

“I did what I thought was right,” the redhead stands her ground.

You look up at the ceiling. “You thought stealing the guinea pig from your classroom was right?”

“You stole Sweet Cheeks?” Ellie asks with wide eyes. Her hand stills on the guinea pig.

“What are you going to tell your students?” you ask.

At that, your wife bites her lip and hesitates. “I’ll- I’ll have to give them the death talk.”

“You’re going to fake the death of your class pet and give them a wrongful death talk?” you ask her incredulously.

Melissa shrugs. “It’s a talk I would have to give inevitably when one of their other pets kills him. This way, at least he has a fighting chance.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” you ask her, although she can tell that you’re about to give in.

“And you love me for it,” your wife replies cheekily. “So, what do you say? Can we keep him?”

Ellie repeats the question, puppy dog eyes big and sweet, pleading.

You groan as you know you’re going to give into their pleas. “Fine. But I was not part of this kidnapping, and the two of you are taking care of him. I’m not lifting a damn finger when it comes to him.”

You’re immediately being attacked with hugs and kisses, and even Sweet Cheeks squeaks in approval and thanks. 

“El,” Melissa says seriously though. “You gotta keep the secret that he’s here. If anyone finds out that I took him, I’m gonna be in some trouble.”

Your daughter mimes zipping her lips. “If anyone asks, Sweet Cheeks is dead.”

“Good girl,” your wife ruffles her hair. “Now c’mon. I think we have some things to hash out with his new cage.”

“You got a new cage?!” you yell as the two go running off to settle the guinea pig in.

The next day, Janine is all over your wife. She’s figured out that Melissa took the guinea pig, despite Ellie’s insistence that she saw the guinea pig belly up this morning when you all came into the school.

Eventually, the redhead confesses, and your little girl looks absolutely miserable when Janine tells her she has until lunch to bring him back.

Your wife begrudgingly brings Sweet Cheeks back to Abbott, but then she somehow manages to convince Janine to let her keep the original Sweet Cheeks and she’ll front the bill for another guinea pig for the class.

So, when you leave the school, Ellie is holding the rodent in her arms with so much happiness in her heart, and Sweet Cheeks squeals with excitement. You can’t help but smile at how happy this stupid little guinea pig makes your daughter, and also your absolutely ridiculous wife.

That day after school, Melissa goes out and buys another guinea pig that looks similar to Sweet Cheeks, but both she and Ellie can identify a few differences to tell them apart upon closer inspection.

“It’s like twins,” your wife chuckles. “Always got at least two differences to tell ‘em apart.”

The next morning, you, your wife, your daughter, and the replacement for Sweet Cheeks load into the car and head off towards Abbott Elementary.

You think that the problem is solved between your wife and her grade level partner in regards to class pets, but come the end of the day, Melissa picks up her belongings and the guinea pig that she has affectionately started calling ‘Honey Buns’.

“Melissa, we are not stealing another guinea pig,” you sigh heavily.

The redhead grins, as does your daughter. “We ain’t stealin’ him. Me an’ my class talked, and we all agreed that with my students’ other pets at home, it wouldn’t be fair to the guinea pig, so we’re takin’ Honey Buns home, an’ I told Janine I’ll take a pet rock like her weirdo of a boyfriend.”

“We are not taking Honey Buns home,” you try to put your foot down, but you already see the way that Melissa has grown attached to this guinea pig, and if Ellie’s giggles as she tries to share a piece of carrot with the animal is any indication, you know you’re going to end up with two new pets in the house.

“Momma, please!” your daughter starts to plead, only for the vegetable to fall from her mouth. She just barely manages to catch it before feeding it to Honey Buns. “Please! Mom and I- we’ll take care of him, just like we’re going to take care of Sweet Cheeks!”

You groan as you run a hand through your hair. “I hate you guys,” you grumble as you turn on your heel to start walking out of the school.

“No you don’t!” Melissa calls after you.

Ellie runs after you and all but tackles you in a hug, looping her arms around your waist. “You love us.”

“You’re lucky,” you roll your eyes as you lean down to plant a kiss on your daughter’s head. Then you turn back to the redhead a few paces behind you. “I better get some good dinner tonight.”

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[moonchildreads]

don't you know what the night can do?

summary: you call for help in the middle of the night and eddie comes to your rescue

pairing: best friend!eddie x reader

tags/warnings: mdni. technically a college au? depression, abusive relationship (not eddie, he's a sweetie), talks of potential homelessness, no SA happens but eddie thinks it did for a second before it's cleared up (again, it does NOT happen, but since it could be triggering consider this your warning), hurt/comfort, happy ending!

wc: 2.8k

a/n: i was supposed to post this yesterday but upon rereading it i realised it was me trauma dumping so i rewrote a significant portion of this to make it into it's own thing. i hope it brings you as much comfort for you as it did for me, and if you are in a situation like reader is, please seek help. i believe in you and i am rooting for you 🖤

Now's the time when it's down to me and you Spread these wings, we'll be flying

It’s already late when the phone rings and he’s immediately shoving his feet into his sneakers, rushing out the door of his apartment and into his van. It’s even more late when he parks across the street and decides against waking your entire building up by ringing your doorbell. Hurriedly, he searches his glove box for that little spare key you gave him for emergencies - the one that has a big metal ring and a tiny plastic tab with your name on it. He lets himself in, the storm outside in the sky and inside your head getting worse and worse every second that ticks by.

Eddie finds you slumped against the small table where your phone rests, the receiver still in your hand, and he knows. He knows something terrible has happened and it doesn’t matter that he’s been anticipating it ever since you told him you’d begun dating that asshole classmate of yours because nothing could have prevented his heart from shattering the moment he sees you.

You’re a lifeless looking doll, devoid of any emotion and feeling. He’d fear you’re actually dead if he couldn’t see your chest rising and falling slowly.

“Sweetheart?” he says, lowering himself to where you’re sitting and trying not to spook you. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” you say, almost surprised when his eyes come into view. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, baby, of course I’m here,” he shuffles closer to you, but still doesn’t touch you.

Eddie swears he can still feel your arms around his neck sometimes, how your hands always used to find his, and how your legs would tangle on the couch all the time. You don’t like to be touched too much these days. He misses your warmth.

“Are you okay?” he repeats.

“Cold.”

“You’re cold? Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“NO!”

Your voice rings loud in the quiet apartment, your eyes locking with his in a fiery yet terrified stare. What are you so afraid of? Eddie takes in your appearance and it’s clear that you’ve been crying, though he doesn’t really understand why. He peers into the hallway that leads to your bedroom, searching for answers though he finds none.

“I- I’m sorry… I made a mess,” you explain, deflating once more. “I was upset and the sheets, they… they’re not on the bed anymore.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says. “We can put them back on.”

You afford him a movement that barely registers as a nod and he thinks he hasn’t seen duller eyes in his entire life, except for when he used to look into the mirror when he was younger. You shouldn’t feel like that, not if he can help it. He raises up onto his knees, still keeping his distance but signaling that it’s time to get up.

“It’s late, sweetheart. Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

“Can… can I get a hug first? Please?” you whisper, your face contorting into a pitiful sight.

Eddie doesn't say anything before he pulls you into a tight hug, his arms shielding you from anything and everything that might be trying to hurt you. He lets you bury yourself into him, lets you crawl underneath his skin and bones, become a part of his very soul and he holds you tighter whenever you exhale another heavy breath.

He waits and waits with his ass turning into ice on the harsh linoleum floor of your kitchenette area, and he doesn’t let go before you do because you once read to him that you should always hug kids until they let go first and he still hasn’t forgotten about it. A booming thunder shakes your windows and Eddie feels as though the storm has moved inside your home. You are no longer a kid, but right now you remind him too much of himself when he first went to live with Wayne, and so he keeps holding you until you pull away first.

"I really needed that, thank you," you smile up at him, but it doesn't reach your eyes. He takes it as a win anyways, because you haven’t smiled in a while and Eddie has always loved your smile.

"You can have as many hugs as you'd like, sweetheart. Why don't you go take a shower while I get your bed ready, huh? You can leave the door open if you want, I’ll be here."

You follow him into your hallway, eyes full of tears at his words. He might be the only person in the world that knows you better than you know yourself, and you don’t take that for granted. You take a hot shower and rub at your skin with your washcloth until it's raw and sensitive and cleansed, and when you come out wrapped in your fluffiest towel Eddie says nothing about the fact that when he walked into your bedroom, he could tell that you’d ripped your bed sheets off the mattress somewhere between a nervous fit and calling him in the middle of the night. There’s a new set, clean and smelling like your favorite fabric softener, and he’s laid out your most comfortable sleepwear at the end of your bed.

Eddie throws your used sheets into the washing machine and gets it started while you get changed, and when you're done you fish out a pair of his pajama pants and a shirt he left behind what feels like eons ago. He thanks you, almost surprised to see you have those clothes and it dawns on you that he doesn’t remember he gave them to you, because you haven't had one of the movie nights where he used to wear them in a while now. When you're both ready for bed, Eddie lifts your covers for you and tucks you in, laying next to you on top of the duvet.

"You can get in if you want," you say, and it's clear you want him to do it.

Eddie thinks he'll never be able to say no to you, so he gets in without you having to ask twice. You are quick to shift closer to him once he gets under the sheets and he takes the hint to put his arms around you, bringing your head to his shoulder and tangling his legs with yours. It’s been ages since he’s held you like this and he’s not going to start complaining about it now - not when you’re right back where you’ve always belonged.

"I have to move out by the end of the month," you mutter, starting to explain the night's events.

"That sucks. You’ve been house hunting yet?"

"No. I found out today and I was hoping Matt would help."

"And he didn't," Eddie says, knowingly.

"He didn't," you confirm. "I asked him to come over earlier because I was upset and he said he’d be here for dinner."

"You cooked?" he hums, petting the back of your head.

"Yeah. I made, uhm, lemon chicken? It wasn't very good."

You've always been a wonderful cook, at least in Eddie's eyes. You don't have a lot of recipes you can whip out from under your belt upon short notice, but the ones you do have are some of his favorites. The chocolate chip cookies he has to hide from Wayne, the chicken noodle soup you bring over when he’s sick, the banana pancakes that always went along with his scrambled eggs and bacon when he used to sleep over. You've never made lemon chicken for him, but you're good at following a cookbook so he thinks it mustn't have turned out inedible.

By now Eddie has learned that "it wasn't very good" means "Matt didn't like it". He doesn’t understand why that piece of shit is dating you if never likes anything you do. Hearing you repeat the things he says to make you feel bad makes your best friend want to dig through your fridge for the leftovers and eat them all just to prove to you that your boyfriend is wrong.

"I think I have to break up with Matt."

Your words make Eddie's head turn. Of all the things you could have said tonight, this was not something he ever imagined. He could have sworn you'd date Matt until he'd decided he'd had enough of you, or you'd marry him and he'd have to sit in the front row watching that fucking guy sap you of your life force for the rest of your days.

Eddie is haunted by the sound of your vacant voice when you'd asked him to come over. At the forefront of his mind he can see it all in loose pieces: the disarray in your bedroom, your obsession with being clean, Matt not being here after you said he’d come over earlier for dinner. He waits for you to paint a clear picture, hoping he won't have to break your boyfriend's nose (or worse) when he sees him around.

"Did he hurt you?" Eddie asks, heart sinking.

"I don't think he likes me anymore," you say, breaking down. Eddie shifts closer and holds you while you shiver. "He, um… he said I can't live with him if I can't find a place before I have to move out of here. A-and when I got upset because I don't want to be fucking homeless during my last semester, he- he tried to distract me with sex."

"What the fuck."

"I t-think he only came o-over ‘cause he wan- he wanted to get laid," you admit between hiccups. "And when he- he couldn't g-get it, he just left.”

"Sweetheart, fuck, I'm so sorry. He's such a fucking asshole," he lets you sob into his arms, the tears coming out of your tired eyes rivalring the downpour outside hitting your windows.

“He- he wouldn’t even hug me. I was crying and he just stood there! He doesn’t care about me being homeless, he- he doesn’t care about me at all!”

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he says gently, and you want to believe he’s telling the truth but you don’t. You can’t.

“It’s not. It’s not okay,” you try to move away but he follows you, heart chasing after yours.

"What do you mean, baby?" he brushes a tear away from your face as you both sit up.

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong and I’m just… there’s nothing in here,” you say through your teeth while you grab at your shirt frantically, scaring him with the rough motion. "I feel so empty and I think- I know there's something really wrong with me, Eddie. Something has to be wrong. I’m not normal.”

"Hey, no, no, there's nothing wrong with you," he pulls you into him once more, not letting you run away from him again. "Sweetheart, I promise you, you're- you're not empty, what are you even saying? You're full - you're so full. You're full of love, a-and kindness, and if that son of a bitch is making you feel like you're not full then, I don’t know, dump his ass! He's mean and pathetic, please don't- don't break yourself into a million pieces for someone who doesn't deserve you."

"I don't feel full, Ed."

"That’s okay, we can work on it," Eddie says, confidently. "And I’m not gonna let you be homeless, I swear. You can move in with me until you feel ready to start house hunting!"

"What if I never feel better?"

"Then we’ll live together forever,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you know he means it.

"Ed-"

"Babe. I'm serious. One hundred percent. You can even have my bedroom, I don't care."

"And where are you gonna sleep, huh? Don't be stupid."

"Wayne slept in the living room for like a decade and he's still kicking, I'll survive."

You turn in his arms so you can look at him. Eddie looks back at you with his warm eyes and mischievous smile firmly planted on his face. He’s so special to you. And luckily for him, you've never been able to say no to him either.

"When is your lease over?" you ask, wiping your tears and feeling suddenly determined.

"Uh, after you graduate I think?"

"I’ll move in with you but don't renew it. Let's find a new place."

"Yeah?" Eddie grins. "You wanna be roommates? For real?"

"I think- I think it could be good for me," you raise your hands and squish his cheeks. I think you could be good for me. "I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you."

"Me too," he says, gaze softening.

He knows it's not your fault Matt has taken over your life, not when he's conditioned you for the past year to depend on him for everything. Eddie also knows he himself has been the source of many of your fights, and while it hurts to see you cry every time Matt gives you the silent treatment until you apologize for something you didn't do, your adamant refusal to cut your best friend off your life makes him incredibly proud of you.

As much as you've stood up for Eddie throughout your lives, you've never been good at standing up for yourself. He thinks it’s time he starts standing up for you too.

"You, um," Eddie starts, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from his cheeks and onto his lap. "You really are gonna break up with him though, right? Because I don't think I can pretend like everything's cool with the guy when he keeps hurting you like this."

"No, I know. I can't keep going like this anymore. There's... there's so much stuff you don't even know, Ed. Sometimes he really scares me," you confess.

"He hasn't, like… hit you or anything, right?" his throat constricts.

"No, but he says things... weird things. He's so mean sometimes,” you huff, finally getting rightfully angry. “He got mad for no reason the other day and said that the only time he felt I loved him was when he got sick and I stayed with him during Spring Break. I spent an entire week taking care of him and then when he gave me the fucking plague, because of course I got it from him, Robin had to take care of me because he was sooo busy."

"He's such a goddamn loser, he totally held you hostage ‘cause you had plans that didn’t involve him for once. I knew he had a problem with us going to Steve's cabin, he’s never liked any of us!”

"Also he says I humiliate him in class because I think I'm smarter than him. Like it’s my fault his grades suck.”

"You are, though," Eddie says, grinning.

“Huh?”

"You are smarter than him. You have always been the smartest of us all."

"No, I’m not,” you scoff. “Nancy was valedictorian."

"Be real, you didn't want that shit anyway."

"No, I really didn't," you giggle softly. "I was too busy running around town with you and Jonathan.”

“Those were the good days,” he snorts. “We totally made Hopper age in dog years.”

After the laughter ends, you two look at each other and know that something has changed tonight. Something that was slowly veering off track got violently course-corrected, and you let yourself feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time.

You’ll go to sleep in Eddie’s arms and wake up to the smell of him frying bacon. You’ll whip your banana pancakes from thin air and you’ll start deciding together what you want to sell, what you’ll put in storage and what you’ll take with you once you move out of your place. You’ll talk about your finals coming up and Eddie’s new job, and he’ll do the dishes while you call Nancy, who’ll call Jonathan, who’ll shake Argyle up, who’ll call Eden, who’ll call and wake up Robin, who’ll yell at a sleepy Steve to get up, who’ll then call you to ask when they should be coming to help you lug all your stuff into Eddie’s van.

And Matt won’t call all weekend, because he doesn’t care about you, but you will never know that because you’ll be getting drunk at Robin and Steve’s while Eden tells you about a two bedroom apartment that a classmate of hers is vacating after graduation, and everyone else will make bets on how long it’s going to take for you and Eddie to notice that you won’t actually need two bedrooms.

But for now, with eyes that hurt from crying and limbs that feel heavy with a tiredness you’ve been carrying for months, you feel a little less empty because you know that no matter what the future holds, you’ll always have Eddie by your side.

thank you for reading!

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, verbal and physical ab*se mentioned

A/N: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Bad News Pt. 2=> 😢

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Over A Month After Mike's Funeral

“He said he'd leave the door unlocked, so I can just go in and get the rest of my stuff,” I said getting out of the car. “My legs hurt so damn bad,” Shante said bending over. “Old ass!” I laughed as I walked to the door.

As I lifted my hand to turn the doorknob, all of the memories from the night before I left came flooding back. “You good?” Shante asked as she walked up behind me. “Yeah, flashbacks whoopin’ my ass. I can't believe that… Fuck!” I said sobbing. Shante’s arms wrapped around me. “Oh, Bella. You'll be okay, mama. You know me and Mama gotchu,” she said swaying from side to side.

This was the first time since the day Terry called that I had realized how much life had changed. The surgery was “successful”. Testing showed no more immediate signs of cancer. The possibility of me getting pregnant was slim to none and would take a miracle, but I was trying to be as optimistic as possible about the situation.

“I'm fine. I promise,” I said patting her hands. She slowly released me from her embrace. “You’re strong, ya’ know. You always have been,” she said playfully bumping my shoulder. “Thank you for that. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to be. What's the reward in it?” I said reaching for the doorknob again.

Upon entering the house, I noticed that everything seemed to be untouched. It was as if Terry had barely stayed here since then. “Has he even been here?” Shante asked spinning around and taking in the scenery. She seemed to be just as confused as me. “I don't know. I didn't really ask. We only text about me coming to get my stuff,” I said walking further into the house.

The longer I stood there; the more I felt an overwhelming sense of dread, worry, and something I couldn't explain. It seemed off. It was almost as if this wasn't anyone's home anymore.

“Let's just go upstairs,” I said shuddering. As I turned to go up the stairs, I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. “I thought his bitch ass wasn't coming while you were here,” Shante said barreling towards the door. She grabbed the doorknob and swung it open. “That's what he…,” I started to say.

To my surprise, it wasn't Terry pulling in at all. I saw his mother climbing out of her small sedan. “Shit! It's his mama. What the hell?” I said palming my face. I hadn't prepared myself to face any of them— not Terry or his parents.

I could see her smile before she even reached the door. “Hi, honey. May I come in?” she asked looking at me. Her hands gripped her purse strap so tight that her knuckles turned white. “Yes… yes, ma'am. How are you?” I asked turning to meet her in the living room. “Good, how about you? I haven't spoken to ya’ since ya’ left,” she said walking up to me. She looked at Shante and mouthed a silent hello.

I didn't know what to say to her. Did I tell her the truth? Did I lie about what happened? Was I supposed to protect Terry? Should I even fucking care?

“I've been fine,” I said trying to stifle my emotions. I knew that my face and body language always gave me away. I wore my emotions outwardly like a second skin or a mask. “Don't lie to me, baby?” she said grabbing my hands. I looked down at the floor. “Bella,… maybe you should just… y’know,” Shante mumbled while shrugging her shoulders. “I've asked that boy a million times. He's as stubborn as a mule. He didn't hurt you did he?” she asked stepping closer. “No, but… Yeah, but not physically. Then again, every word he said felt like a punch to the gut. He…,” I said as the tears began to fall.

Before I knew it, I had told his mother everything— what happened that night, the next day, and what happened to me afterward. I even told her about the surgery and diagnoses.

“I'll be the first to admit that we missed the mark with Terry when it comes to emotional intelligence. His father was so set on raising a man that he just couldn't let the boy feel things. Y’know… he couldn't cry, be upset, or… Or, else. Yes, Terry is a grown-ass man, but… I don't know,” Terry's mother grew silent. It was like she had become lost in her thoughts.

“All I wanted was an apology. If he would've just… just heard me out and listened. But, I guess I wasn't worth it. I get it. Mike was in trouble, but I felt like I was fighting for my life… by my… by my damn self. He wasn’t talkin’ to me. He wasn't communicating with me at all. He was just telling me what he was gonna do, and that was it. I… I… I tried my hardest to let it go, but he had already said too much. There was no turning back after what he said. Whether he was angry, overwhelmed, or not; he hurt me!” I said leaning on my hands on the kitchen counter.

“I know. I'm sorry, honey. That's why I'm gone tell you this, and leave ya’ ‘lone. Okay? Listen to me, and listen to me good,” she said holding my face in her hands. “That's my son sure enough, but that's his father's creation. Don't make the same mistake I did. Run. Don't wait on him. He won't change. They'll tell you they will a million times and never will. They just keep feedin’ ya’ lies to tire ya’ out ‘til ya’ settle. And once you do that… It only gets worse. So, go up those stairs and get your stuff. When ya’ do, leave and don't eva look back. Ya’ hear me?” she said pulling me into a bear hug.

“And I know you said he isn't hitting you now, but if he's anything like his daddy, it's only a matter of time. Baby, don't even think ‘bout it… Lord… Just don't go back. Promise me that,” she said rocking me back and forth.

4 hours later

“That's it. We're done! Let's go. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I ain't in the mood. Girl, this was a helluva day,” Shante said walking out the door. I made sure that I had all of my stuff before leaving. I looked down at the set of keys in my hand. His mother was right; this was it. I wasn't turning back. I fumbled with the key ring and removed Terry's house key. I placed it on the kitchen counter. There was no reason to have it because I was NEVER using it again. I turned and began walking out the door locking it from the inside. Closing that door felt like ending an entire chapter of my life.

I walked to the passenger side of the car. Opening the door, I got in and slumped into the seat. “Alright. The hotel is only a thirty-minute drive. Let's go!” Shante said starting the car. Even reversing out of the driveway felt odd. It was as if every move from then on was solidifying just how done I was. Shante drove out of the neighborhood and turned onto the main street. The two-lane boulevard went straight through the center of the small town. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I was exhausted as hell.

After a few minutes, I felt the car come to a stop. I opened my eyes to see where we were— the town center. It was the only stoplight in the city limits. “The fact that there is only one stoplight is insane,” Shante laughed. “Aww, don't be mean. That's not nice,” I said giggling into my hand.

As we were chatting, the red light changed to green. Shante eased into the intersection. I looked out the window, watching the scenery. It was heartbreaking, to say the least. This was supposed to be the start of my perfect life— small town, family home, a husband, some kids, all of it. It was like I lost it all in a night. My thoughts were drifting to a poisonous place, and I knew if I stayed there too long I wouldn't be able to climb out of that hole as easily. I let my eyes scan the small crowds outside the window. This was a normal Thursday night for everyone else but me.

We were nearing the edge of town and slowly approaching the city limits. All we had to do was get to the highway. This was the first time this drive felt so daunting. It was as if I was being forced to reconcile with every decision I made before today— the good and the bad.

Out the window, I could see the small bar that Terry frequented. It wasn't busy but small groups were still lingering out front. As we grew closer, I noticed Terry's truck parallel-parked out front. Of course, he was there. Where else would he be? This was where he went to run. I leaned my head against the glass. The side of my face flustered from the temperature of the cool glass. As we started to pass the back of Terry's truck, I could see his figure in front of the truck. He was leaning with his back against the hood. I sank back into the seat. I honestly didn't want to see him. I waited until we were completely past the bar before sitting up again. I didn't look back. I kept my eyes glued on the passenger side floorboards. What was the point? I wiped a single tear that was making its way down my face. I breathed out a deep sigh of relief.

What would life have to offer now? Genuine happiness. Healthy and reciprocated love. Self-discovery. Less bad news. Yeah, that's what I pray for— for God to finally give me enough space to breathe and grow.

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[wonsdoll]

𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐷 iN LA ── SJY

❄️ 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺 .. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖾.

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── fluff + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ if you know this song, i love you >3< happy birthday to MY MAN !! ∿ ✦ more

♫ iS YOUR BODY TALKING, CAUSE YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY? DO YOU DO THIS OFTEN? IS IT ALL JUST A GAME? TO YOU IM WONDERIN’ , NEVER SEEN THIS SORT OF THING.. AM i THE ONLY ONE YOU CAME TO SEE ?

moving back to your hometown was supposed to be exciting. you got to be with your family again, reconnect with close friends, and experience everything from your childhood. part of you had forgotten you met jake in your hometown.

it was senior year 2019, when jake slipped a note in your locker saying he has a crush on you. at first you hesitated, “ why would the best soccer player at school have a crush on me? ” you were skeptical, but you went for it.

your relationship was perfect.. for a while. miscommunications were happening constantly, leaving you unsure about where your relationship stood. you called it off, leaving yourself and jake heartbroken. to escape your heartbreak, after high school you moved away.

being a few hours away from your hometown was difficult. you didn’t see your parents often, you were alone almost everyday, who lead you to feeling depressed. after some time away, you decided it was finally time to move back home.

you pulled into the driveway of your parents house, turning the car off as you hopped out of the driver seat. you walked to the front door and knocked on it, hoping your mother or father would answer.

“there you are sweetheart, i’m so glad you got here safe.” your mother pulls you in for a warm embrace, being in her arms after a long time felt like a warm blanket on the coldest day.

it was cold after all, it was the middle of december. the snow was falling softly, and your fingers grew red and cold. you got inside, where you reunited with the rest of your family members. over a cup of hot chocolate, your mother asks about jake.

“have you contacted jake since you got here?” she asks, her hand resting on top of your free hand.

jake.. a name you haven’t heard in months. “no.” you quickly said, sipping on your hot chocolate. you wanted to avoid the topic, deep down though, you wanted to know how he was doing.

“you know he visits sometimes… to see your brother” your mom added, you had forgotten your brother and jake were close. “shit..” you mumbled under your breath.

jake and your brother were on the same soccer team, after finding out they had a lot in common, they became close friends. close friends lead to spending the night at each others houses and play video games.

your brother came out of his room to greet you. “been a while, sis.” jaemin hugged you. your brother never hugged you, but you could easily tell he missed you. you caught up with your brother, during the conversation you managed to ask about jake and his well-being.

“so how is he..?” you ask, sipping your hot chocolate to avoid saying his name.

“who?” jaemin teases, forcing you to say the forbidden name.

“jake, stupid.” you roll your eyes, placing the cup onto the nearby coffee table.

“jake’s been alright. we went to nationals and he made us win the golden cup.” jaemin bragged, proud of the moment. “he’s a great guy you know.. i think he misses you.”

jaemin’s words had you for a minute, lost in your thoughts. you couldn’t imagine your ex of almost 5 years missing you, or even holding onto the feeling you.

“you’d think by now he’s probably seeing someone.” you tried to brush off the thought of jake, as much as you tried, he always came back to your thoughts.

you went into your childhood bedroom, your bed made the same way you left it, all your childhood goodies remained safe and tucked exactly where you left them. you skimmed through your shelves, looking past all your school awards and achievements.

your eyes became fixed on a stuffed bear jake had bought you after finding out you won your volleyball tournament, the matching bracelets you bought on a school trip, and other goodies you had saved.

the idea of throwing away anything that belonged to your past relationship hurt you, it was almost like you were throwing away the memories and the idea of him, which was far from the truth. ever since that talk with your brother, you wanted to see jake again, you just needed a way to.

you decided to grab a few essentials for dinner that night, your father promised to make all your favorite comfort meals but needed a few more things. as you were about to check out, you noticed a familiar face at the register.

it was jake, something about his appearance was different. he looked more mature, his hair got longer. he wasn’t the jake you knew back in highschool, he was far from that. nervously, you walked to the register jake was working at. his eyes widened as he met with your figure.

“y/n.. no way?” jake says, he stops scanning your groceries, giving you his full attention.

“hi jake..” you smiled nervously, it had been a while and it was clear you both were nervous.

“when did you come back?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting with yours, sending a familiar feeling up your spine.

“today actually..my dads making dinner tonight so i had to pick up some things. so you work here now?” you ask.

jake nods, smiling dearly. “ i do, it helps pay for university.” he resumes scanning your groceries, placing them all in a bag. “that’ll be $21.97”

you reach in your wallet to grab your card, you hold out the card for him to take and swipe. jake’s hand gently touches yours, you don’t pull away, instead you found yourself yearning for another subtle touch. as jake swipes your card, returning it to you, your fingers touch his.

jake’s face flashed a shade of pink, he grew more nervous. “have a good day y/n.. hope to see you soon.” he waved goodbye, his smile was just how you remembered, soft and sweet.

jake went home that same night, his thoughts were consumed with you. he wondered about what happened after you moved away, what your life was before coming back. he sat on the couch of his apartment, scrolling through his socials as he normally would. suddenly, his phone rang, causing him to jump out of his thoughts.

“hello?” jake answered, it was jaemin.

“hey, you wanna come over and play that new game that came out earlier this week.” jaemin asked, setting up his console for two players.

“yeah i’ll be there.” jake hung up, he grabbed his coat and a few snacks before heading back out.

jake arrived within 5 minutes, while him and your brother stayed up playing video games, you sat in your bed, your attention growing strong onto a book you’d recently gotten into. within a few hours of gaming, jaemin has fallen asleep on the bean bag chair he sat on.

jake got up slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it softly. his figure made it into the hallway, walking towards your half—closed door. jake knocked softly. “can i come in.”

“yeah.” you said, sitting up in your bed and placing your book to your side. “what are you doing up so late?”

“jaemin fell asleep.. and honestly i can’t sleep.” jake sat by the end of your bed, you could hear the tiredness in his voice and his eyes.

“how come?” you asked, leaning against the headboard behind you.

“because you’re back in town.. and i’m always thinking about you. but now, you’re here.. you’re consuming my mind so much y/n.” jake stopped, realizing he had said too much.

“i should go back.. shouldn’t i?” you asked, unsure if what he said was a good thing or bad.

“i don’t want you to go back, your home is here..with me.” jake leaned in close, the closest he’s been since your last moment together as a couple.

jake’s lips softly pressed against yours, pulling you into a sweet and soft kiss. his lips on yours was a familiar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. you slowly pulled away, jake had realized what he just did, he quickly backed up.

“i’m sorry.. i shouldn’t have done that.” jake got up from your bed. “i’m sorry y/n..” he quickly left your room, leaving you alone in your thoughts, questioning what happens next.

it had been a few nights since the incident in your bedroom, you refused to tell your mom or anyone, except yunjin, your childhood best friend.

you and yunjin were getting ready for a holiday party, you both wore matching red dresses and a similar heel. “so he kissed you?” she asks, finishing up her makeup.

“yeah he did.. i don’t know what to do now.” you sat down, getting ready to place your heels on.

“i say go for it, i mean your brother told you he misses you .. and he pulled that? you should absolutely go for it.” yunjin stops. “only if that’s what you want.”

“i do.. kinda?” you said, you were confused and lost in your thoughts.

life with jake again didn’t sound so bad, in fact you both grew as the years progressed, you matured as individuals and that was what mattered.

you and yunjin arrived at the apartment complex the party was being held at. the music was blasting, drinks were on the table and everyone was enjoying themselves. you sat down on a couch, your drink in hand as you watched everyone have a good time.

“wishing jake was here.. maybe he’d keep my company.”

you thought to yourself, when in reality, you didn’t know how to talk to him after the incident in your bedroom. you sipped your drink, when suddenly jake appeared from the crowd.

“looks like you’re not having fun, parties have never been your thing.” jake smiled, a hand reaching out towards you. “come.. let’s go outside for a bit.

“you remembered..” you smiled, taking his hand as you both walked out to the balcony. “of course i do..” jake adds, opening the door to the spacious area.

you and jake stood beside eachother, it was quiet for a moment, silence consumed most of the air, followed by the loud music coming from inside.

“i miss us.” you blurt out, a rather surprised look forming on jake’s face. “ever since i moved back here i was afraid of seeing you again.”

“why’s that?” jake asks, his hand leaning against the cold medal of the balcony.

“i don’t know..” you sighed. “we’re both confused, are we no-“

jake’s lips crashed onto yours, a sweet kiss you received weeks ago. the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, it was all too familiar. his hand rested on your lower back, holding you close to him.

“i know what i want.. and that’s you.” jake smiled, holding you close to him. his eyes met with yours, sending a rush of shivers down your spine.

“i want you as well.” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

[silhouetteonpaper]

In Celebration Pt. 2

Part 1 Summary: You and Natasha have been questioning the boundaries between co-workers, friends, and maybe even something more. But after she makes an unexpected move, you’re left wondering if it’s a good idea for a new agent to be getting into trouble with the Widow herself. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,386 Warnings/Themes: Fluff, romance, reader has anxiety

Three dates in one week. Three outings Natasha invited you on, just for the two of you to share. All within the span of seven days. Between missions and meetings, she made it work—slipping you notes or texts, even smiles. You were caught blushing, heart beating out of your chest each time. Were you two more than co-workers? More than friends? This wasn’t normal for you, even with a close co-worker.

That’s the thing, you both were co-workers at the end of the day. Spending each shift gearing up, fighting a new shared enemy, only to come back to the compound and listen to the debrief. There wasn’t much time for friendly get-togethers, let alone dates. But hidden in the quick thirty minute lunches, fifteen minute breaks, and late night crossing of paths, Natasha was sure to make each interaction count.

That’s how you found yourself in the storage closet, pressed against the shelf by Natasha herself only ten minutes before the quinjet was supposed to depart. She had pulled you inside after you both suited up, her eyes unable to stop scanning your entirety in the sleek one-piece uniform. You didn’t resist as she pushed you against the cool metal, your bodies colliding as her warmth drowned out every thought you once had.

The moment her lips connected with yours for the first time, you felt free. Her hands roamed up the leather of your suit, knowing exactly how to make you want more, to crave more. But as her fingers softly grabbed the zipper resting just above your chest, you pulled back suddenly.

“Nat,” She stopped, her hands frozen as she looked up at you with gleaming eyes. Worry was etching your face, and suddenly Natasha felt like she did something wrong. Did she overstep? Was she reading the situation wrong? “We can’t… we have to go any minute now.” You glanced toward the door, brought back to reality as you realized you were just about to leave for an important mission; and here you were letting your teammate make a move. Any minute now, you’d hear someone calling for you both to board the plane. What if one of the other team members found out? What if you missed the mission, and lives were lost because you weren’t there to help?

“Yeah,” the familiar soft voice coaxed you back into the present, though it was laced with a sense of concern. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have overstepped like this.” She stepped back, giving you more space as you released the breath you were holding. Overstepped? You didn’t feel like she did anything wrong, you were just anxious about being late for your mission. You were a rule follower, and Natasha knew that. But the rules stated that two agents can’t have intimate relationships, it was against company policy. You both already broke that rule, and it made you all the more nervous.

Without another word, Natasha slipped out of the closet, leaving you there in silence. You sighed heavily, smacking your forehead with your palm out of disappointment. Her actions finally proved your suspicion, all those ‘dates’ now truly revealing themselves as a play to get to know you as more than a friend. You were more than willing to let Natasha make a move—hell, you were even tempted to make one yourself after all this time. But right before a mission? It was all so much so quick, and you were still a new agent. The last thing you wanted was to get fired—or even worse, distracted.

The mission went smoothly; you even received a few compliments from the team about your quick thinking. Ironic, you’d thought. To make matters worse, the only seat left on the jet ride home was right next to Natasha. You felt like the universe was trying to tell you something, but after a tiring mission you kept your head down and sat silently for the duration of the flight.

It wasn’t until the debriefing the day after when you knew you really screwed up. “Did you bring your mission report?” An agent walking around the conference table asked you, collecting everyone’s individual reports. Shit. You were so caught up in what happened, you forgot to complete one of the most important post-mission tasks: writing up the mission report. Now that you think about it, you couldn’t recall most of the details of the mission; all you remembered was how Natasha was avoiding eye contact and keeping to herself.

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head disappointedly. “No.” You stated softly, noticing Natasha’s head turn to look at you. She finished her report easily, per usual. The desk work part of the job was still new to you, so of course this was where you’d slip up. Internally cursing Natasha for throwing you off your game, you looked up at the agent with an apologetic expression. “I’ll have it done by tonight.”

The agent sighed and moved on, but Natasha’s eyes were still glued to you. In your bout of frustration, you didn’t notice until your own gaze flicked her way. Instead of immediately pretending to look the other direction, Nat didn’t falter. She offered you an empathetic smile, almost as if she was heartened to think her actions messed you up that bad.

You returned it, holding back a laugh as you thought over the gravity of what happened. A simple kiss threw you off your game; one of the top agents in your field and you still couldn’t put it behind you for a mission. But that was a sign, a piece of evidence that the connection between you and Natasha was meant to grow past that of a co-worker.

The rules didn’t always matter when they involved Natasha, that much was clear. She was able to slip around the blurred lines of company policy and her own morals in the face of avenging, and in her own personal life. So when the debrief meeting ended, she didn’t hesitate to approach you as the team slowly filed into the hallway. “Missing a mission report, huh?” She questioned as you stood in the empty conference room. You blushed, looking to the floor in order to avoid her gaze. Natasha knew it was unlike you to forget such an important part of the job, which led her to assume the reason why; what she did before the mission was the obvious reason for your slip up.

“I’ll have it done in no time, I just need to start working on it.” You stated, offering her a simple smile before turning toward the door. She inhaled sharply, her hand reaching out to grab your wrist with haste. You were forced to stop in your tracks, turning to look at her with confusion.

“What if… you work on that while I work on some other reports. Together.” Her eyes were gleaming, just like the time she snuck you into the storage closet. That same hope, filling her entirety as she waited with bated breath for an answer. You shifted your weight, a real smile covering her face as you realized just how much she wanted to make this work.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and grabbed her other hand with your free one. “Deal.” you agreed, watching her face light up. Natasha leaned in, allowing her lips to find yours with ease as you followed suit. She still tasted like freedom, the choice between right and wrong dancing on both of your tongues. Yet it still felt so right.

As you both pulled away, putting aside your shared desire in order to prioritize work, Natasha added something that made you melt completely. “Maybe after we’re finished, I can take you on a real date.”

“Were the other times not real dates?” You asked, hand in hers as you stepped down the hall. She laughed.

“I didn’t know if you considered them to be dates. Glad to know you were into me this whole time, though.” Natasha smirked, enjoying the way you blushed as she used her cunning to find out how you really felt. It didn’t take much for her to make your heart flutter, and you were eager to see just how far she’d take this as a co-worker, friend, and definitely something more.

[megwritesriddles]

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

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The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in. 

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you. 

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm. 

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him. 

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused. 

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth. 

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think. 

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you. 

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you. 

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly. 

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

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xoxoxo

[tearsofastraeax]

🎀 stalker!könig x cam girl!reader

cw: 18+, masturbation, panty fetish, stalking, voyeurism, reader is a cam girl & könig continuous to be insane :)

the cold breeze gently wrapped around könig’s large frame, slowly willing him to step forward, closer to you, closer to your sweet little sanctuary he invaded time and time again. he loved watching you all by yourself. loved to see this private side of you that you didn't let those other fools on your little porn page see. it made him feel special. 

as he stepped up to one of the windows of your apartment, he was disappointed to find the lights off, in fact, all your lights were off. did he get it wrong? you were always home at this time; he knew your schedule like no other, even checked your social media, your cam girl one and the private one. he always knew where you were. 

he quickly pulled out his phone, his heart beating heavily in his chest. panic squeezing his lungs, shallow breaths escaping his lips and wafting out in little clouds into the cold winter air. what if something had happened to you? what if some sicko attacked you? you were his, and his alone. 

when he pulled up your private instagram he immediately saw a new story you posted just half an hour ago. his breaths came out just a bit easier when he saw the picture you posted was from a bar in downtown, your best friend smiled widely into the camera, a cocktail in her hand. 

while the panic drained out of his body, the disappointment and anger rose. how dare you just up and leave? today was his day with you. the one day in the week he planned to be with just you, when he could steal himself away and watch you, be with you. 

but as suddenly as the anger washed over him, it left. in its wake an idea formed, one that he had been waiting for, for a long time now. it was the perfect opportunity. it was the perfect day. his cock was already straining against the fabric of his pants, desperate to be freed. 

with long strides he moved towards the front door, as if he was supposed to be there, while he checked his surroundings casually. this large mountain of a man in his natural environment.

it took only a few seconds to break into your apartment, it was child’s play for someone like him. next time he should educate you better about safety, this was just not going to cut it. anyone could just break in and do whatever they pleased. 

as he stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind him, your smell wafted over him, enveloping him whole. his knees nearly grew weak with it, this overwhelming feeling of you. just you. everywhere he looked, it was you. it felt like paradise, and he never wanted to leave. 

he took his sweet time as he walked through your apartment, from the kitchen to the open concept living room, your comfortable looking couch, the one he had watched you on many a night. the one where you had spread your legs so invitingly, your fingers dipping below the band of your sweatpants. how he had wished back then he could have ripped those damned clothes off you. he wanted to see your wet pussy, how your fingers toyed with it, dipping into your wetness, massaging your clitoris, and making yourself cum, all for him, his sweet girl. 

just the image of it made his dick throb in his pants. he needed to get some relief. and soon. 

he forced himself to turn away from the living room, slowly exploring the rest of your beautifully decorated apartment. everything was so in place, and it all felt so much like you that it made it hard to breath. but the cherry on the top was just about to come, as he slowly crept into your bedroom. 

his breath hitched as his eyes trailed over your messy bed, some clothes strewn about, your smell somehow penetrating his nose even more so than before. 

but nothing prepared him for the pink silky thong he saw scattered on the floor next to your bed. as he stepped closer and carefully picked it up, he could see it was already worn. your sweet juices coating the fabric. 

it was all too much, he needed to cum so bad, his head nearly exploded with need, or rather his cock. so, with one hand tightly fisting your underwear, he ripped open his pants with the other and released his straining member out of its tight prison. a loud groan escaped his lips as he slowly started to fist his swollen member. 

his eyes slowly drifted back to your thong, dark thoughts filling his mind, and without another second to spare he pressed the lacy fabric to his nose. inhaling deeply and getting drunk off your scent. it was so incredibly perfect. he could imagine his face pressed between your soft thighs, his nose buried deep in your cunt, his tongue fucking you, in and out and in and out. 

while his fantasies carried him away, his hand picked up the pace. his legs awkwardly stumbling closer towards the bed, before he fell upon the soft mattress. 

it was all too much; you were surrounding him so completely and devastatingly that it made him feral. it was nearly impossible to stand, yet so incredibly perfect, he never wanted to be anywhere else again. 

he drowned on a big gulp of air, your sweet scent filling his nose. mere seconds after he wrapped the lacy thong around his cock, using it to get himself off. oh, how he wished it was your sweet cunt instead that wrapped itself around him, your tight heat enveloping him. but this had to do for now. 

as he imagined you bouncing up and down on his cock, your sweet moans and pleas filling the quiet room, he couldn't hold it any longer, he shot long and thick spurts of cum all over your little panties, some of it landing on your sheets. 

he slowly came down from the high of his mind-blowing orgasm and blearily looked around at the mess he made. with a devious smirk on his lips he rubbed the milky fluid further into your sheets, so you wouldn't notice the mess once the cum had dried up. but he would know. and maybe you would smell him just like he smelled you. and maybe you would touch yourself where he had done just now. he wanted you to cum with his essence surrounding you. he wanted to consume you whole and never let you go. 

check out the stalker!könig masterlist for more

[kurogane2512]

you as chief of mbcc sitting in your chair with chameleon on your lap (side ways) head buried in your neck telling you about her worries about those sinners (special conversation 1)

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Chameleon x gn!reader (Chief)

Type: SFW, Fluff

You weren't sure how you ended up in this scenario. As the Chief of MBCC, you had a myriad of duties concerning the Sinners. Looking after the Sinners' psychological and emotional needs was immensely important hence you'd have to make special arrangements for each of them, catered to their conditions. One particular arrangement was the one you were currently in, having none other than Chameleon nestled in your lap.

"Mmm, I always look forward to these sessions, Chief~" Chameleon husked near your ear in her sultry voice, her lips grazing your lobe.

Despite being a highly reputed psychologist herself, Chameleon had her fair share of mental troubles that she couldn't solve by herself. This arrangement began as a simple meeting you decided to have with her 3 months ago to find out how to help her, initially you would simply talk with her about anything she wished but over time she became daring and started asking for more, knowing well you'd go as far as it took to help her. So, here she was sitting on your lap sideways and resting against your body. A passerby would think you both were lovers by the intimate position.

"Chameleon, aren't you a bit too close today....?" you tried to protest but it seems your resistance only made her come closer, her arms wrapping around your neck now.

"Am I? What if I told you I'm craving some extra attention today, hm?~"

You knew it was futile to argue with her, so you accepted your fate with a sigh and kept your arm around her waist to steadily hold her. You couldn't see her face but you could swear she smirked the moment she felt your hand around her, she knew you wouldn't deny her.

"Well, how was your day today, Chief? Anything interesting happened?~"

"Hmm, not really. It was the usual routine today. I suppose the exciting things only happen on missions." you replied with a chuckle, making Chameleon smile too.

"What about you? How do you feel now?"

Chameleon slid her finger down your cheek, tracing your face intricately while pondering.

"You must be knowing the answer to that, Chief. You have your eyes and ears on us all the time~"

"Well, I like listening to you talk about it yourself. I can't know your thoughts by looking through the cameras."

Chameleon hummed and hugged you tighter, burying her face in your neck and relaxing. You weren't sure how to respond to this since she never did this kind of thing before, but you felt it was best to let her be and continue holding her the same way.

"Something has been on my mind all day and I was waiting for our session to finally talk about it. You must be already aware of this fact since you keep track of everyone's day to day life..... Well, at night, many Sinners suffer from terrible nightmares. I'm also one of them but thanks to your efforts, I have been better recently. Still, I'm well aware that everyone's condition is different and they require special treatment."

You furrowed your brows for a moment, trying to understand what she was meaning to say.

"I know.... Sometimes it's even terrifying for me since I can feel it through the shackles. Earlier, I would keep getting up at night cause of the disturbances in the shackles but now I have gradually learned to subdue it from my side. Still, I cannot erase their nightmares completely...."

Chameleon could sense a hint of disappointment and regret in your tone, a feeling of guilt you had over not being able to help the Sinners properly. This gave her assurance that she was right to bring this up with you.

"We share the same sentiment then, Chief. I had a.... proposal for this. Would you mind letting me talk with them individually and privately? Perhaps I can delve into the root cause of their nightmares and suggest better treatments that the resident psychologist cannot."

You weren't completely surprised hearing this, you had somehow anticipated it. Perhaps you had finally started to understand her on a deeper level.

"That is.... very kind of you, Chameleon, truly. But, don't mind me asking this, why do you want to do this?"

Chameleon softly chuckled, "Why, I'm still a clinical psychologist, Chief. Are you surprised to hear that I perhaps care for these Sinners? Or do you doubt my intents and feel I'm planning something sinister, hm?~"

"....Neither of that. I'm just a little surprised to hear you make this first step, that's all. I asked for your reasoning only because I don't want you to burden yourself and think that perhaps it's your responsibility as a psychologist to help them. Irrespective of your own condition, you don't have to feel obligated to do something like this. But if you truly wish to out of goodwill then I will support you."

Chameleon couldn't help but genuinely smile at your words then leaned forward to kiss your cheek.

"My, the way you become so chivalrous is quite endearing, Chief~"

You blushed for a moment then cleared your throat, "A-Ahem, however, I have some conditions for this. I trust you but I still need to follow some protocols and exercise general cautions. You can meet them by yourself but I need to be in close proximity, I'd prefer to do it in the interrogation room if it's okay otherwise I will think of another way."

Chameleon nodded with a grin, "As you say, Chief. I trust you to make the right call~"

You smiled in acceptance then suddenly felt her come closer and hold you tightly, so much so that she was breathing in your scent and you could feel her breath tickle your skin.

"Thank you, Chief."

They were simple words but they meant a lot to both of you.

"It's nothing, I'm just doing my job...."

Chameleon chuckled as she pulled back and cupped your face, her eyes flickering to your lips.

"Hehe, always so humble and adorable.... Oh, Chief, some day you are going to awaken the desires buried deep in my heart. If that happens, I wonder if you'd be able to bear them, hehe~"

Your lips curled up in a smirk, "Don't underestimate me, Chameleon...." You suddenly pulled her closer by her waist, making your lips almost touch hers.

"You should be the one ready to tame the beast if you awaken it~"

Chameleon's eyes flared up in excitement and she didn't waste another second to press her lips to yours. Your lips moved with hers in a passionate manner, ravaging each other like animals in heat. Her body fully leaned into you now, her hands possessively holding your face and tilting it as she pleased to kiss you deeper and harder.

"Ah, only you could turn my nightmares into dreams, my toy~"

[pygmi-cygni]

Product Maintenance

cw: non-sexual physical intimacy, massage, innuendo, fluff, nathan behavior, pining, way too long, kissing, gn reader

summary: Nathan needs a back massage and you are all too happy to help.

Nathan gets cranky when he's uncomfortable. Sick, injured, even stubbing his toe sends his grumpiness up to eleven. You know to back off on those days, sticking to your room and giving him ample space to lick his wounds in brooding privacy.

But, you can't help but feel a little sorry for him.

It's been a particularly stressful few weeks for Nathan. His newest algorithm application to BlueBook was patented on Thursday, and he'd been in back-to-back board meetings and feedback conferences since. AKA, his least favorite way to experience his least favorite kinds of people.

Being around him in this state was unbearable. He never spoke, but if he did it was cutting and cruel. It wasn't personal - just letting off steam, but you couldn't help but flinch when he turned his strung-out gaze on you.

He'd been spending long nights in his gym, the heavy thud thud thud-thud-thud of his fists against the sandbag a dull metronome to your restless sleep. He was in great shape, but you could tell something was bothering him.

You eyed him over the rim of your coffee mug as he hunched over his laptop on the sofa. His posture was...awful, to say the least. The bunched muscles in his back looked angry even from your position. Probably wasn't helping his tension headache, either.

Setting your mug down with a quiet clink, you padded over until your hand hovered over his shoulder.

"Nathan?"

He ignored you, taking a drink of his wine and tapping out another line of code. Then, swearing and deleting half the page.

A bad time, definitely. But you wanted to help.

"Nath-"

"Busy," he snapped, strong fingers flexing on the table. "Just forward it to my inbox."

You pursed your lips and waited for him to settle. The tense, ugly energy pouring out of him in droves was making your own mood sour. It was near eleven p.m, and he had a meeting at seven sharp the next morning. God forbid he stay up too late, or he'd be a nightmare tomorrow. Good luck, you mentally wished the future patrons.

When you didn't move, he sighed heavily and stood, folding his arms to look at you. Momentarily you balked. He was intimidating in the low light, brow dark and heavy.

"Well?"

"I..." you trailed off, reconsidering. Was this inappropriate? Until now, your relationship had been purely professional, but..well, you supposed-

His darkening mood forced you to persevere. The only thing worse than interrupting Nathan with a dumb idea was interrupting him for no good reason.

"I wanted to help," you blurted. "You look...uncomfortable."

His jaw ticked as he let out a slow, nasal exhale. "Uncomfortable."

"Your back. You're sitting funny. Like, twisted, and, um," you trailed off, wilting under his encompassing gaze. It felt like being a bug under a glass; watching helplessly as someone much bigger and stronger carefully pulled you apart like it was nothing. The gears in his head were turning and you wished to know how badly he wanted to punch you. Maybe you could defend yourself.

"This can't wait?" He asked bitterly, gaze flicking back to his blinking cursor.

"I mean- well, it's...it's late, and you have a meeting-"

"I don't need a nanny," he said condescendingly, downing the rest of his alcohol. "If it's past your bedtime, you can go night-night, but the big kids need a minute to-"

"Fuck you, Nathan, it'll only take a minute and you can go back to failing miserably at...that thing," his brows skyrocketed at your outburst, "and you're the one tantruming. Grown-up grape juice does not detract from your toddler-ness." Sniffing, you plucked the empty wineglass from his hand and set in on the table.

He looked a bit smaller, for a moment, before sliding his metal walls back in place.

"I can...help with the muscle aches," you said, softer this time. "Just a massage thing my mom used to do. Here, sit-"

You cleared a space on the crowded couch and tried not to look terrified of Nathan's casually intense scowl. Eyeing you irritably, he sat down and waited with his elbows on his knees. As gently and not-awkwardly as possible, you slid behind him and sandwiched him between your thighs. Realizing the impropriety, you slid up to your knees, cheeks flaming. Nathan was still stoic as a mountain.

"It might hurt a bit, but bear with me," you murmured, laying your hands on the base of his neck. His skin was warm and delectably smooth under your fingertips. You shivered and tried not to let your heart eyes explode.

Firmly, you dug your thumb into the knot at his nape. Nathan seized and groaned loudly, hand reaching back and squeeze your calf. Biting back a swear word, you waited for him to calm down before continuing to stroke his shoulders.

"Oh shit," he swore, jaw clenching against the intense relief.

The sheer mass of muscle on his back was amazing. you kneaded as gently as you could, but Nathan still panted heavily and groaned with every pull. Your forearms were burning from the effort.

"Here, I'll go easy," you said gently. You stopped kneading and just ran your palms over his broad back, smoothing away the knots and tension. Nathan had gone limp, leaning forward with a drunk expression on his face.

"Feels...fffuckin' great," he slurred, grunting when you rubbed a particularly sore spot. Preening, you shuffled off the couch and grabbed your coffee.

"Well, good luck on your-"

"Where the fuck are you going?" he snapped, blissful reverie broken.

Surprised, you paused. The air had shifted dizzingly fast. At first his armor was thick enough to repel gravity, and now he was fully disarmed, soft pink interior vulnerable for all to feel. Specifically, for you to feel.

"I...figured you'd wanna work," you said meekly. The few feet you suddenly created between you gave him time to don that armor again, scowling and turning sharply away.

A dismissive grunt, and you knew this meeting was over.

It eased your soul a bit when you saw his posture relax and he headed off to bed a few minutes later. At least it helped.

He got a bit greedy after that. Dragging you over when he had a moment of spare time, pawing for your hands to relieve the stress in his back.

After a few days, your biceps were stronger and he moved much easier. Limber as a rag, no longer hunched and straining. He liked them before bed, so he could nod off on the couch, soothed by your gentle breathing and warm hands on his skin.

The next time he had a stressful week, you did it without asking. Grabbed some oils, a hot towel, and smoothed away his irritation. On those days, Nathan demanded you stay until he fell asleep. Leave on the light.

Something about the dark, you figured. No matter, you'd stand guard. He slept sounder that way.

It had been a clusterfuck of a day. Your evaluations were scheduled all in the afternoon, leaving you rushing between video meetings and scrambling to pull up all the files in time. Nathan's insistence you help him in the lab was also nagging on your brain.

With your last meeting completed, you dropped your head on your desk and sighed. Sighing, you thought, was an underrated therapy. it felt good to just....whoosh it all out. Nathan chided you constantly for being 'childish'. He, clearly, had never experienced the relief of a Deep Sigh.

Rubbing your tired forehead, you trudged over to the lab to help the weirdo genius with his latest creation.

When he immediately launched into a detailed explanation of the fibrous wiring designed for the inner membranes of his androids, you vividly understood why socializing was low on his list of favorite activities.

"Hey."

His tone made you jolt, blinking away the brain fog. The bright fluorescents nearly blinded you into a migraine. Wincing, you tried to maintain eye contact.

"What's wrong with you? You're acting like a fuckin' weirdo," he asked, setting down his prototype. You waved him off. Don't piss him off, you've only been here thirty seconds.

"Nothing, just...tired," you said, restraining yourself from letting out a big sigh. He appraised you for a minute, then continued his rambling.

You did notice, though, that he lowered his voice and the lights dimmed to a comfortable level. He handed you...something, with the express purpose of don't fucking move unless I tell you, and then moved on to a separate project.

Your brain took the opportunity to zone out. He'd disappeared from your line of sight, and everything swam together in a hazy golden puree. Felt nice, to black out for a b-

"Ay!" Something dug into the middle of your bag, and you jolted, almost dropping his thing. Nathan griped and took the synthetic skeleton, steadying you with one hand and setting down the project with the other.

"Woah, hey, jesus," he breathed, "I...fuck, I was just helping your back. Take a breather. Goddamn you almost...fuck," he muttered excuses, dragging a hand through his beard.

Headache revamped, you groaned and massaged your temples. Would this day ever end?

Nathan's warmth came a little closer, and a big hand settled over one of yours. "Don't move," he murmured, "and don't freak out."

Your natural instinct, of course, was to do both of those things, but a gentle pressure over your sinuses made your thoughts zap into the void. He gently massaged your sinuses with his thumbs, coaxing the tension out of your forehead and melting the achiness away.

A weak groan fell from your lips. That felt so nice. Your posture swayed as he dragged his hands down, rubbing circles into your cheeks as his palms cradled your jaw. You were hung by his hands, dangling above an ocean of calm. The lab lights dimmed further, until it resembled dusk.

"Better?" At your nod, Nathan patted your face and reached for a sticky note. "Here. Do this. Get out of my lab."

You shuffled backwards, reeling from the backhanded chain of events.

Sleep, his scrawl instructed, and gimme a massage at 8.

That, you could do.

Nathan's weight dipped your mattress too soon. The cradle of sleep dropped you on your head, and you woke with a sigh. He sat, expectantly, as you put a towel to steam and grabbed some oil.

"Lay down," you mumbled, rubbing sleep crust from your eyes. He did so with a flourish, folding your pillow under his forearms and settled on his stomach. Nathan had stripped off his shirt already, tan skin flexing and glowing in the dim light of your bedroom.

You started at his shoulders. His joints popped quietly as you pulled and kneaded, a tiny groan of relief with every alignment. Nathan shuddered when you dragged a firm elbow down his spine. His muscles tensed and shivered. You grinned when he collapsed into a syrupy blob.

"Roll over," you instructed, retrieving the towel. He stretched languidly when you wrapped it around his neck and shoulders, moaning rather obscenely.

You avoided the obvious tent in his pants and ran your hand over his pecs. Natural reaction.

"Fuck, who taught you this," he said thickly. "A fuckin...witch or some shit?"

"My ex," you said off-handedly, digging your thumb into a particularly deep knot under his ribs. He yelped and twitched, gaze never leaving your face.

"How'd- shit- how'd he know?"

You shrugged, applying another palmful of oil to his skin. He looked unfairly appetizing like this, shining and perfect and very sculpted. Your cheeks heated and you prayed the low light covered your tracks.

Hey, he was the one with a hard on.

Nathan's heated gaze traced your strong arms as they kneaded into his thighs. His broken sounds were louder, by no accident. You tuned him out the best you could, mentally playing your favorite album.

"You're fucking unreal," he breathed after a tough knot subsided, "shouldn't...hnng easy, christ- shouldn't be just..." he gripped the mattress when you rolled out his calve, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter marble.

You raised an eyebrow and moved to the other leg. "Ticklish?"

"Hah no, just, sensitiiiiive," he gritted out, digging his heel into the comforter. You giggled to yourself and kept massaging the bottom of his feet, relishing in the theatrical expressions across his usually stoic face.

"You were saying something?"

"F...ffforget it," he groaned. He reached out and grabbed the plushness of your thigh to brace himself.

"Almost done," you soothed.

You gently removed the hot towel and caressed the dampness into his skin. His face was blissfully neutral. Your fingers traveled to massage behind his ear, earning a quiet keen of satisfaction.

It was a heavy burden, to be in charge of soothing his aches. Nathan had many chinks in his armor, some that dug harder than most. He did an admirable job of hiding them, but everybody broke down at some point. You felt proud that he trusted you enough to coax him into a softer set, made of sentimentality rather than hard aloofness.

His dark eyes searched your face while you put your things away. You sat by his head, cross-legged and avoiding him. The heat of his expression burned your back. Still, you refused to show your belly, resiliently maintaining your neutrality.

A warm grip on your thigh.

Slowly, you turned. Nathan was looking openly at you, so shockingly pure that for a moment, your breath caught. You swallowed.

"Can I-"

He surged upwards and caught your lips on his. Sweetly, gently. He was holding back; you felt it in his tenseness. The warmth of his mouth flushed pink across your face as your tongues lapped gently.

At your reciprocation, he deepened the kiss, licking hard into your mouth. Need, his hands begged, gripping onto your waist. But he batted your hand away when you reached for him. He didn't need to be squeezed, or fucked. He shakily dragged your hand to cradle his cheek.

Held. He needed to be held. To be reminded of the softness of his extremities, and the humanity that still lived in the cavern of his chest. You did not view him as an android, but as a man, and one that needed ample cajoling to show his heart, but it still beat strongly.

You traced kisses on his cheek, gently scruffing his beard. He settled near the junction of your throat, eyes closed against the onslaught of intimacy.

Heart buzzing, you petted his stubbly scalp. Whatever he'd started blossomed and grew between you, drawing your skin closer until he laid atop you. Your hands resumed their travel, smoothing out the creases in his forehead and the remaining uncertainty in his strength.

"Talk," he demanded quietly, holding you tighter. Humming, you thought to his schedule.

"You have a board meeting tomorrow," you whispered, brushing your fingers over his cheek, "and lunch with the director at nine..." Nathan huffed frustratedly and pressed against your hand. Smiling faintly, you moved to caress his beard.

"And...hm, I think that's all until Wednesday," you finished, hands laying still and soft against his chest. He basked in your touch for a few moments before cuddling a bit closer, a brawny forearm tucking up against your waist.

"Add...one of those back massage things in there somewhere," he mumbled, "mm...maybe one with the towels. Fuck yeah, a hot towel, please," he groaned when you kneaded a knuckle at the sore spot on his neck.

"Nathan Bateman, using his manners," you chided playfully. "Thought I'd never see the day." He grunted again but left you alone. The neutrality of his demeanor made you grin in surprise. The big, scary bear had tamed into a little cub, curled up for a nap.

"Okay, a hot towel, maybe some head rubs?" You mused, trailing a soft pinkie over his ear. He purred, like an honest to god cat, and you mentally added that to the list.

The sight of Nathan, spread out and pliant in your lap, dressed in soft sweats and practically eating out of your hand was something you wished you could frame. Like a trophy. Proof that underneath all of the cologne and arrogance, he was still a man.

"And then...I'll make dinner," you continued. He nodded, urging you to continue stroking his head, "then we can watch something, and...ooh, shave your beard off, or dye it purple," you slid a side eye at him at that one, but he was still blissfully smiling at nothing. Snorting, you fished your phone out of your pocket and snapped a quick photo.

"Cutie," you mumbled, dropping a kiss onto his nose. "Now scoot over, you're the little spoon tonight."

He obliged and you burrowed down next to him, content to bury your hands in the soft firmness of his chest and let his heartbeat pull you out to the restful sea.

tags! comment to join, and thanks for reading!

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love 

@unear7hly @chaithetics @ominoose

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Bug

In which Faelithil, Adar's mortal lover accidentally adopts a newborn uruk.

Adar's attention was drawn away from the fireplace by the sound of someone entering his home, turning and seeing his lover standing by the entryway. Upon the sight he was at her side to take what she held from her so she could rid herself of her cloak and muddy boots.

"My moon," Adar stepped back from Ithil, dropping his arms to his side and taking in the sight before him to ensure he was not seeing things.

"I thought we had discussed bringing work home? Especially this far info your pregnancy." There was didappointment in his tone.

It was true, Adar had asked to leave work at work. At most discuss it over dinner but the need to rest was one both of them had.

"Oh but Adar, he was born only this morning. His mother didn't make it and he wouldn't stop crying unless he was in my arms." She cooed at the little boy and smiled at his soft babbling. "I thought I'd do the motherlikes a favor by taking him with me." The mortal felt for the child, he was barely a day old and had no one.

Adar sighed deeply, but still a smile krept onto his face. "Dear, have tou made it clear to the others you only took him for the night?" He put emphasis on her own words. "N.. no, I don't think I did.. They didn't ask." She thought back at her leaving and the exact words spoken, but she couldn't recall with the fussing babe in her arms.

"Then, I believe you have adopted him. Intentionally or not, it is what you have done by bringing him into our home."

This time it was Ithil's turn to take a moment to take in the situation. Had she really?

"Have you named him? Out loud, I mean." A shake of her head told him no, and a quiet sigh of relief left Adar's body.

"Good, don't name him or he is yours by uruk law. He may stay for the night. Tomorrow morning we will go see the motherlikes and discuss this properly." Adar sighed once more with a smile. Of all the ways she could have misunderstood his culture, this was where she ended up.

"Come, hand him to me so you can change." His voice was as gentle as his actions of taking the child from her arms and handling him like it was second nature. The sight had her all flushed and quickly she disappeared into the bedroom.

Faelithil had seen many things in her months of living with the uruk, but the sight of Adar so gently handling a newborn was new and affected her in a way that most certainly would have led to her begging him for a child if she wasn't already carrying one.

Changing into easier sleep clothes took a while without Adar's assistance, but she managed and waddled back into the home's main area where she pauzed at the sight before her.

Adar laid played out on the furs he kept, his fingers wiggling above the babe resting on his chest and grabbing at them. But that was only part of why she had stopped dead in her tracks. She kept quiet and listened.

"You are going to give your mother such a hard time in her last weeks, I suppose I will have to stay home from now on to care for you, little bug." Adar rambled softly to the urukling on his chest, that happily Buh'd back at him.

"Yes, bug. Do you like that word? Bug."

"Buh!"

"Bug it is, then. As you wish."

Ithil had a hard time holding back the smile that started to hurt her cheeks as she made her way over to her lover and slowly but surely made her way down onto the pile of furs.

"It seems we won't be returning to the motherlikes tomorrow, are we?" Adar had sat up again to give her the space she needed and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I believe uruk young choose their new parents, not the other way around. When he stopped crying in your arms it meant he wished to stay with you, so who am I to deny him a family." The ancient uruk in this moment showed why he was named Adar all those ages ago, and the mortal could not have wished for a better father for her children.

[starkidsonnets]

nessun dorma

edward nashton x reader minific

| contains : mildly suggestive at like. one part, patrick parker mention!

| word count : 756

| note : lowk a song fic. i wrote this in the middle of the night after sobbing my eyes out, so. hope you enjoy ! unedited, not proofread !

under the cover of night, you await his presence. your face illuminated by the harsh light of your phone as you mindlessly scroll, laid on your stomach cuddled up against your pillow. you had been waiting hours for a visit that wasn’t even guaranteed, eyes struggling to remain open and yet you held up.

he will come. surely, he misses you as you miss him.

your room was shrouded in darkness, the thick clouds preventing even the moon from shining her silvery rays through your window. it was cool, too; the chill of november seeping in through the old, weary walls, the only warmth coming from your body, heating the one spot on the bed that you hadn’t moved from since you got out of the shower.

you have already proven yourself to him; you thought so, anyway. his mind games, his puzzles, his riddles, his little tests of loyalty… you had done it all perfectly, hadn’t you? why does he insist on—

tap tap tap

oh.

to quell your excitement, you stayed in bed, merely glancing back at the window. it was unlocked — he knew that. you supposed knocking was just a polite pleasantry, which you found mildly humorous. you waved him in, and he followed suit, allowing the biting wind to slice through the otherwise still air of your bedroom, but only for a moment.

“i didn’t think you’d be awake.” he spoke, his smooth, albeit muffled, voice was a welcomed change to the drowning silence that swallowed your whole apartment.

tu pure, o principessa, nella tua fredda stanza

“i was waiting for you.” you murmur, sitting up and tossing your phone somewhere by your pillow. he shifted uncomfortably at that.

guardi le stelle che tremano d'amore, e di speranza

you slide out of bed, falling into his arms, fitting perfectly. his jacket was cold, as was the leather of his mask as you press your lips against it, eyes fluttering shut and hands holding his face against yours. his glasses bump against the edge of your cheek.

“how about tonight, eddie?” you ask, readjusting his glasses as his hands fall to your hips; you can hear him breathing.

he tenses. he doesn’t even have to say anything before you know his answer.

“you know me, angel.” he says. he’s been saying this for weeks. ever since you first asked to see him. who he was behind his ‘true skin.’ his gloved hand rests against the side of your neck, averting his gaze to focus on playing with your hair, trying to avoid this subject altogether.

another one of his riddles, then.

“if you can tell me who i am, i’ll take it off.”

ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me; il nome mio nessun saprà

“i don’t want to play this game with you, edward. i’ll never sleep soundly again until i know. i love you.”

there was nothing that hurt him more than those three little words, you knew that. in the palm of your hand you held the Riddler’s greatest weakness, and he hated you for it.

if he didn’t love you, too, he’d have your head for all the power you dare have over him.

“i…” his eyes find yours, his stomach twisting. “if you can tell me who i am, i’ll take it off.”

il nome suo nessun saprà, e noi dovrem, ahimè, morir, morir

you wake up alone the next morning, your clothes still strewn across your bedroom floor. the spot next to you is cold; he’s been gone for a while — there was no trace of him. as if he was never here.

“morning, patrick.” you greet your neighbour as you exit your apartment. he was leaving for work; possibly the only one in your building who worked as early as you.

“m-morning.” he nods, mumbling, his glasses sliding down the curve of his nose.

he was a cute man, and perhaps if you weren’t irrevocably in love with a terrorist, you’d ask him out for coffee.

“hope you have a good day. i’ll see you this evening, yeah?” you say as your turn to leave, stopping once you catch the way he perks up, eyes shining in a way you’d never seen from your timid neighbour.

“what?”

your face heats up in embarrassment, “no, sorry— i-i meant, like— if we catch each other after work.”

“oh.” he visibly deflated. despite how nice he is, patrick parker is a strange, strange man. “yeah. i’ll see you. this evening.”

dilegua, o notte! tramontate, stelle tramontate, stelle! all'alba, vincerò!

[fleming-o]

cozy love - Kika Nazereth X Reader

cute come home for dinner situation

1k

——

The kitchen is a warm haven tonight, the scent of simmering sauce mingling with the faint notes of your favorite playlist drifting from the speaker on the counter. Wearing one of Kika’s oversized jerseys, you hum along to the music, swaying your hips in time with the beat as you stir the pot on the stove. The sleeves are way too long on you, brushing your wrists, but there’s something comforting about being wrapped up in her clothes. It feels like she’s here, even though she isn’t—at least not yet.

You’re so caught up in the rhythm, in the cozy quiet of the evening, that you don’t hear the front door creak open or the soft sound of Kika slipping off her shoes. She’s supposed to be home a bit later, but the game wrapped up early, and she made her escape the moment she could. She’d been looking forward to coming home to you all day.

Kika pauses at the doorway, watching you with a grin spreading across her face. There’s something about seeing you like this, comfortable in her jersey, moving around the kitchen as if it’s your own personal stage. The sight makes her heart swell, filling her with an overwhelming rush of warmth. She could stand there all night, just soaking in this little moment, watching you be so effortlessly, beautifully yourself.

Quietly, she walks over, her footsteps softened by the music and your focus on stirring. Then she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you gently back into her chest. You jump slightly, caught off guard, but the familiar warmth of her embrace quickly melts any surprise. She rests her chin on your shoulder, smiling as she watches you stir the sauce.

“Hmm, something smells good,” she murmurs, her breath soft against your neck.

You smile, a flush of warmth rising to your cheeks. “Hey, I thought you were getting back later.”

“I couldn’t wait to come home,” Kika says, her voice a little softer than usual. She presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering for a moment. “And look what I came back to—a whole dinner, and you looking way too cute in my jersey.”

You laugh, leaning back into her, letting her warmth soak into you. “I thought you wouldn’t mind me borrowing it,” you tease. “It’s cozy.”

She grins, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along your waist. “Borrow all you want, meu amor. It looks better on you anyway.”

A blush spreads across your face, but you tilt your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, affectionate, watching you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world right now. Her expression makes your heart skip, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the food, the music, the rest of the world. It’s just the two of you, wrapped up in this little bubble of warmth and love.

She tilts her head, studying you with a soft smile. “You know,” she murmurs, “seeing you like this… it makes me fall for you all over again. Every single day.”

Your heart flutters, and you reach up to brush a stray curl from her forehead. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me,” you say, grinning.

Kika chuckles, pulling you closer, her hands gentle yet firm around your waist. “That’s exactly how I want it, querida,” she whispers, her eyes flicking down to your lips. Slowly, she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s sweet and unhurried, like she’s savoring every second of it. Her hand moves to your cheek, thumb brushing softly as she deepens the kiss just slightly, making you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

When she finally pulls back, she rests her forehead against yours, her eyes still closed, as if she’s holding on to the moment. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” she says quietly.

A warmth spreads through you, and you wrap your arms around her, resting your head on her shoulder. “Me neither.”

For a while, you both just stand there, wrapped up in each other, letting the world fall away. The soft music continues to play in the background, creating a soundtrack to this little piece of heaven. Eventually, though, Kika peeks over your shoulder at the pot on the stove, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

“So,” she says, breaking the comfortable silence. “What masterpiece are you cooking for us tonight?”

You laugh, stirring the sauce as you glance at her over your shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece, but I’m trying out a new pasta recipe. Figured I’d surprise you.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Você sabe o caminho para o meu coração,” she says with a grin, the Portuguese words rolling off her tongue easily. “You know the way to my heart.”

You roll your eyes, nudging her playfully. “Pretty sure I already found it a while ago.”

Kika’s laughter fills the kitchen, light and infectious. She takes a seat at the counter, propping her chin on her hands as she watches you finish up. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that feels like home. Every now and then, she’ll make a comment, asking what ingredients you used or teasing you about your focus as you put the final touches on the dish. You can feel her eyes on you, a gaze filled with so much love it almost makes you blush all over again.

Finally, the pasta’s ready, and you dish up two plates, setting them down on the small table you’ve set with candles for a cozy touch. Kika grins, her eyes lighting up at the sight. “Candles and everything? Você é demais,” she says, her voice full of admiration. “You’re really going all out, aren’t you?”

You shrug, a little shy. “I just wanted tonight to be special.”

She reaches across the table, taking your hand in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Cada momento com você é especial,” she murmurs, her voice sincere. “Every moment with you is special.”

As you eat, you both talk about her game, laughing over funny moments and groaning about the tough plays. But it’s not just about the food or the stories—it’s about being together, sharing these small, perfect moments that make you both feel so lucky to have each other.

After dinner, Kika takes your hand, pulling you into a slow dance in the middle of the kitchen. There’s no music, just the faint hum of the city outside and the quiet sound of your laughter as you both sway together. Her arms wrap around you, holding you close, her heartbeat steady under your cheek. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness.

“Amo-te,” she murmurs, her words filled with a quiet certainty. “More than you could ever know.”

You look up at her, your heart full. “I love you too.”

As you stand there, wrapped in her arms, you realize that this is everything you could ever want—a cozy night, her by your side.

——

[noblehouseofgay]

Sorted

Black Brothers microfic

Hurt/comfort

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Regulus sat at the slytherin table, eyes staring at nothing. Mind lost in a daze. He doesn't know when he started watching his brother across the hall, laughing with his idiot friends, but he can't seem to look away.

He was supposed to be with them. That's what Sirus had wanted. Regulus knew his brother hoped he would he sorted into gryffindor just like him. But Regulus can't be something he's not. He can't control where the hat placed him. But it didn't matter.

He remembered the look on his brother's face when the hat immediately called out slytherin. The disappointment. The betrayal. All over something Regulus had no say in. The hat didn't even give him a chance to argue.

Sirius hasn't spoken to him since it happened. Regulus has tried but his brother always manages to avoid him. How could he have lost him so easily? He's not like the rest of them...shouldn't Sirius believe that?

After twenty minutes of not touching his food, Regulus decided to leave the hall. It was too loud and too upsetting. He went and sat in an alcove near the library. He looked out at the night sky, the stars just beginning to appear.

He scans the sky and finds Sirius immediately. He sat looking at his brother's star, eyes tearing up a little. "What did I do wrong?" His voice small and quiet. "I- I didn't choose where i was sorted....I'm not brave like you.......but I'm not bad like them.......please don't think me like them....."

Two weeks pass. His brother still avoiding him. It hurts. It feels like he's lost him in a matter of days. Lost years of love. Years of secrets. Years of their childhood. Gone. Over a stupid hat.

Now all Regulus can do is watch from the outside. He should've seen this coming. Should've known he'd be sorted in a place that would disappoint his brother. Should've known those friends he made were Regulus' replacements. His sadness was bubbling into anger, something he hated feeling. But he couldn't help but be angry at his brother. Angry that he obviously doesn't trust Regulus. Doesn't trust that he's still the same little brother he was.

In his angry daze, he walked right into someone. He looks up at who he bumped into. It shouldn't be surprising with his luck, but he's shocked he managed to run into his brother with Sirius avoiding him like the plague. Regulus just stared at him, mouth dry, eyes wide. He couldn't speak. He wouldn't even know what to say.

Sirius broke the silence by clearing his throat. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." And with nothing more to say, he started to walk away.

Regulus felt like he had been stabbed.

Weeks of pure silence and that was all he gets?

He turned around, watching him leave. "Sirius-" he choked out.

Sirius paused, clearly hesitant. He turned back around to face his brother. "What, Reg?" He sighed.

"I-" Regulus had his brother. He wasn't ignoring him. He had to use this. "Why have you been avoiding me?" He tried to keep his voice level. "I didn't choose slytherin. I got put there. But you've been acting like I did it on purpose." He felt his eyes sting. "I'm not brave like you. I was never going to be in your house. But I'm still your brother. At least I want to be..."

Sirius sighed. "Reg..."

"What? Tell me, Sirius. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why you've given up on me so easily." Regulus was lucky nobody else was in the hall. He felt the words coming out before he could think about what they were. "Can't you for one second think of me as my own person rather than the house I'm in? Why does it matter so much?"

Sirius shuffled his feet. "I just hoped things would be different."

Regulus stared at Sirius, eyes wide and full of disbelief. "Different? Different?! I'm sorry, I wasn't aware things changed so much in a single month of school! Though you wouldn't know since you've been nowhere near me!" He was shouting now.

"How am I supposed to trust that you're different? That you won't be like them??"

"Because you know me!!" Regulus' voice broke. Silence echoed. "At least you're supposed to..."

He couldn't hold back the tears anymore, a few slipping down his cheeks.

"Please, Siri...I'm still me..."

Sirius' face faltered, softening a little. He sighed, walking towards his brother. He pulled him into a hug.

Regulus' breath hitched, trying not to choke out tears, as he relaxed into his brother.

"I'm sorry, Reggie...really, I am. I just...I got scared that they'd gotten to you in the year I was gone."

Regulus buried his face into Sirius. "They did...a lot...but I-...I get to be here...for now...and I don't want to be them...I want to be me."

He could feel Sirius lightly smiling. "You be you, Reggie...you be you."