#and some moments of tenderness in between

[bunnys-kisses]

in the quiet spaces between you and i

simon 'ghost' riley

tags: smut & fluff, sleepy morning sex, tender & loving, established relationship, simon is smitten by you,

rain hit harshly against the window of your bedroom. you exhaled deeply as you slowly opened your eyes. it was one of those days, you knew it was going to be raining all week. but, you didn't expect it to pour.

it was a sham because you had been having quite a sunny spell in the city. but for now, the grey skies and heavy patter of rain made you seek refuge in the arms of your much larger lover. simon. the ghost as he was known in service, but in the quiet flat you both shared. he was just simon, or si, or honey. hell, even one of the million other nicknames you had for him.

you opened your eyes a little wider and yawned loudly. simon slung an arm over your middle and you pressed your face against his built chest. you admired how strong he was. he had arms that could choke someone out and thighs that could crack a coconut. but nestled in the sanctuary of your bed. he was as gentle as a lamb. one who easily leaned into your kisses with a half-asleep smile. your short nails lightly dragged down the side of his jaw, feeling the stubble against your digits. you leaned in and kissed him tenderly, with such love.

simon was a catch, he could be terrifyingly intimidating. but, those brown eyes only grew soft when they were gazing at you. always protective. but not patronizing. he knew you inside and out, that came from years in the military. he studied you, but not the way a scientist would a bug. but, rather a man trying his best to be the partner you deserved. and if being the best meant carrying an extra umbrella in his bag because you had a habit of forgetting yours then so be it.

"love." he said in a quiet voice, "whatcha lookin' at? got drool on my face or somethin'?" his voice was like a bear growl, a rumble that made you smile. you kissed him again and his eyes remained shut as he enjoyed your kiss.

"shh, shh." you cooed when you pulled away from the kiss, "just admiring you." you giggled softly.

he smiled a little, "nothin' to admire. like lookin' at a garbage heap." he tightened his grip around you and hoisted you up onto his waist as he laid on his back. his brown eyes a little more open as he admired you with a dream-like gaze, "you on the other hand." he smiled a little more, "lookin' at you is like lookin' at art. kinda wish i could nail ya up against the wall too." then placed his hands on your hips. your softness felt nice in his rough hands.

hands that could kill and maim. he was like a wild animal, he would tear through what he could in order for some primal driven ideal of peace. instead he held the fat of your hips with such a devotion, like you were going to slip through his fingers at any moment. but you'd never leave, not with the life you built together. simon really felt like a ghost before he met you. home had no roots until you slowly planted them in the cracks of his soul.

bland food was replaced with home recipes, a single pair of work boots were replaced with many pairs of shoes along with a closet near bursting with clothes, blank walls were panted over in brighter colours and decorated with photos. simon hated having his photo taken, but he'd do it for you.

his hands trailed up and down your sides, he pushed up the large black tshirt you wore. he exposed the boxers you wore (and stole) underneath. you liked to sleep in his clothes, it made you feel closer to him. as if you weren't buried under his arm almost every night. his eyes went a little wider when you peeled the shirt off and exposed your beautiful breasts to him.

his eyes quickly darted to your face as he asked, "do.. do you want this? you can stop if you want." he never wanted to force you into any act of sexual activity. he may have his urges, but he would never force you into anything.

you nodded softly, "si, i always want you. wanting you is like wanting air, or water or cheap kebab. i can taste it on my tongue when i think about it too hard." then pulled at the waistband of the underwear you wore. simon's gaze was on you as you stripped down and when he broke himself out of his trance, he stripped down as well.

you ended up on his waist once more. his hard cock up against your soft stomach. you licked your lips. you asked him, "do you want this? are you comfortable?"

simon nodded. consent was a two-way street. it took at least two to tango this way, both parties had to be happy, even if a little sleepy. he held onto you and guided you onto his cock. he tensed up and said, "yes, yes. that's it. oh, fuck." he swallowed as you easily took him. he wasn't small by any means, but careful movements got you seated on him like it was your personal throne.

you asked, "do you like that?" the rain continued to batter against the window. but you two were dry and warm in each other's embrace. you knew today would be a lazy day in bed. maybe simon had to check a few work emails, and maybe you'd get leftovers out of the fridge for dinner. but with the weather outside, you'd be rather cozy curled up in your flat.

simon took your hands and placed them on the expanse of his chest. you could feel the tawny-blond short hairs under your finger tips. you could feel the leap in his heartbeat and you smiled softly at him. he smiled softly at you. he once said he didn't smile as much in the previous thirty years of his life compared to the two years he had known you. it was hard not to smile when it felt like the sun itself was beaming at him at all times.

he moaned a little, "yeah, sunshine. you're doin' amazin'." his expression was still a little sleepy as you moved against him. the sex was slow, but lined with passion. you always held passion for one another, a flickering flame in your heart that you carried with you. and in moments of quiet intimacy, the pair of flames met. kissed and fluttered in each other's company. you loved simon, you loved him in a way that felt like it came from a storybook. even in the hard times.

the days apart, hell, the months apart. simon's ability to emotionally close off and your ability to feel nothing but a cold of anxiety through you. but in moments of weakness you built up one another, and it bloomed into the life long intimacy you both shared. the love that went deeper than waves of the ocean.

you leaned down and kissed simon on the lips as you moved against him. you felt your love for him wrapped up in a sexual fever that climbed from your core up to your brain. it left sparks in your blood as you planted your hands firmly on his chest. your hips rolled slowly and the kiss only deepened.

he groaned against you. this was heaven. simon once believed that he had died on the battlefield and somehow weaseled his way to heaven. there he met an angel, you. and you loved him and stitched back a broken man. piece by piece. he said close to your lips, "i love you."

and you replied with no uncertain terms, "and i love you, simon riley." his name on your lips sounded like gospel. it excited him just as much as it scared him. he held onto you a little tighter and let you move against him. the pleasure coursed through both of you, the heightened heat would only lead to a orgasmic high that would make your toes curl.

it was a mutual goal as you continued to move against him. heated breaths in a quiet bedroom. outside was gloomy and cold. but the sparks of light made the room you shared inviting and comforting. this was the man of your dreams.

scarred, tattooed, many times beats and many more times broken. but wasn't that love? to pick up the pieces of another, shake them it in their face and demand that they allow themselves to be loved?

that was all you could give simon. your love, your loyalty and a future.

the two of you kissed while pleasure coursed through the both of you. your pace staggered as the want made your heart race. it felt amazing, it always did. being intimate, soft, loving. to be held by your beloved simon as you rocked against him. there were no expectations, you could not cum and you'd still feel happy. to feel loved, oh to feel loved by simon, that was worth more than orgasm after orgasm.

he groaned when you parted the kiss. he held onto you a little tighter and exhaled deeply as the pleasure properly washed over him. he said through tense words, "i'm close. baby, i'm close."

and you worked yourself harder on him. the sex between you two was electric and you felt the urge to finish come over you. you let out a sweet moan, like dessert wine. it left simon drunk off as feeling. as you came, he came as well. he leaned forward to bury his face in your soft torso as you continued to ride him through both of your climaxes.

your voice was tense as you said you loved him once more. you never said those words without meaning them. you were everything to him and he in turn was everything to you. when your pace slowed, he pulled you back down with him onto the bed.

he smothered you in his love as he feverishly kissed you in the hot after glow of sex. while it wasn't the most extreme form of love making you felt soft and warm. you felt the love in love making. simon's kisses were silent prayers to his angel as he held you close in his strong arms.

you giggled against his lips before you pulled away and held his face lovingly. you felt heat in your face and could see the heat in his. you smiled, the kind of loopy, happy smile that lovers had. he kissed you once more before you managed to get the covers over you once more.

the clothes could wait, as could breakfast. because while you had pancakes on the brain, your lover's kisses were more filling. <3

[levisjinchuriki]

acts of service - toji fushiguro

summary - you love toji and you'd never let him feel like a burden

warning - angst, mention of an argument, going to bed angry, acts of service, husband toji, fluff at the end, soft!toji

the bedroom door slams behind you as your heart is pounds. your jaw hurts from biting back words you’ll regret. you and toji had your third argument already this week. his muffled voice tells you he’s still frustrated as he talks to you through the door, but you don’t respond. you’re too angry.

his voice eventually fades, and the sound of his retreating footsteps tells you he’s given up. you curl under the covers, still fuming, until the warmth of the bed lulls you into a restless sleep.

—

hours later, you wake up with a dry throat and your chest still tight from the argument. slipping out of bed, you quietly make your way to the kitchen. the first thing you notice is toji’s lunch bag on the counter, already zipped shut. you always pack his lunches—an unspoken routine between you two, one small way you show your love.

after unzipping the bag, your heart sinks– inside are a few hastily thrown snacks: a bag of chips, a granola bar, an apple. no sandwich, no leftovers, no real meal to sustain him through his grueling workday. it’s clear he didn’t expect you to pack his lunch tonight. 

he didn’t want to burden you.

your chest tightens as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the anger is still there, but it can’t overpower the ache in your heart. toji might be stubborn, even infuriating, but you love him. even now, after everything.

you grab his lunch bag, emptying out the snacks with trembling hands. tonight’s leftovers sit untouched in the fridge. you plate the meal carefully, transferring it into containers and neatly tucking it into his lunch bag. you even add a few extra touches: a little pack of soy sauce, the cookies you baked recently, and some fruit.

finally, you grab a scrap of paper and a pen. for a moment, you hesitate, unsure what to write. then the words spill out, simple and raw:

i’m still mad at you. but i love you more than anything. please eat well today. 

you fold the note and tuck it into the lunch bag before zipping it shut again. a deep sigh escapes your lips as you set it back on the counter, right where he’ll see it in the morning.

the anger isn’t gone, but neither is the love. you head back to bed, the heaviness in your chest lightened just a little. you hope you can both start again tomorrow.

—

in the early hours of the morning, toji stands at the bedroom door, his lunch bag clutched in one hand. he’s staring at it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, a faint crease between his brows. the way his jaw tightens and his shoulders drop says more than words ever could.

he doesn’t deserve you, not after last night. that’s the thought running through his head as he quietly enters the room and sets the bag quietly on the dresser. he only meant to come in to get his work clothes. when his eyes land on you, curled up in bed, your face soft and peaceful in sleep, he knows he can’t leave just yet.

before he can stop himself, he’s moving toward you. his weight dips the mattress as he climbs in behind you, slow and deliberate, his body fitting against yours like it was made to. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest, his warmth seeping into you.

you stir slightly, murmuring incoherently, but you don’t wake. toji presses his face into your hair, breathing you in. his lips lightly brush the back of your neck.

“i’m sorry” he whispers, his voice low and rough, almost inaudible. “for last night. for everything”.

his hand slides up to rest on your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. he’s not expecting forgiveness—not yet—but he needs you to feel this, even in your sleep.

he kisses the curve of your shoulder, then the space just behind your ear. each kiss is soft, tender, filled with everything he struggles to say out loud. “i don’t deserve you” he murmurs against your skin, his voice breaking slightly. “but i’m so damn lucky to have you anyway”.

you shift again, a small sigh escaping your lips as you unconsciously press closer to him. toji tightens his hold, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. the world outside is waiting for him, but for now, all he cares about is this—this quiet moment with you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo, the rhythm of your breathing lulling him into a sense of peace he didn’t know he needed.

“i love you” he says softly, his words barely a whisper, meant more for himself than for you. “even when i mess up. always”.

he stays there, holding you, until the weight in his chest feels a little lighter and the clock tells him he can’t stay any longer. but as he finally pulls away, tucking the blanket carefully around you, he swears to himself that he’ll make things right. you deserve nothing less.

--

a/n: this was inspired by a tiktok i saw. i hope you guys enjoyed. thank you for all the love recently!! <3

[whoreforsexymen]

Guess who just finished acrane and is writing this with actual tears on my face!!! I need some Vander fluff- i think i will emplode- it doesnt even have to be anything specific i just need comfort after that shit storm 😭

Yes my child. Mommy will make good on your request.

And don’t even get me started on S2. I can’t bring myself to watch it yet. I’m still not even over S1 and I KNOW for a fact it’s not even as sad as I’ve learned S2 is.

But shhhhh, Mommy’s got you. Here’s the fluff you asked for.

Piltover’s Got Nothin’ On You | Vander Fluff Flash 🍺🤎

(GIF cred: me <3)

Pairings: Vander x GN!Reader

Pronouns: No pronouns used.

Rating: Slight NSFW because Reader and Vander are presumably half naked in bed, so 18+!! MDNI !! You WILL be blocked

Word Count: 524

Summary: Vander is enjoying a nice cozy morning with you, and reminds you exactly how he feels.

Tags: A little spicy, just because it’s a little maturely themed if you whip out a magnifying glass, Fluff, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Domesticity W/ Vander, OoeyGooeyRomance

Notes: None, just enjoy. Take a breather. 🤍

“Would I lie to you?” The question hung in the air, light yet loaded with meaning. It was enough to send a familiar flutter through your stomach, a soft, nervous twinge that made your heart skip. The sensation was strangely uncomfortable, yet in the most endearing way—like a gentle reminder of how much he could still make you feel, even in the simplest of moments.

You lay atop the man you were speaking to, both of you bare-chested, the warmth of your skin pressing together in an effortlessly comforting way. The coolness of the morning air was a distant contrast to the heat between you, a calm presence that made the moment feel serene to say the least. His steady breathing beneath you gave the moment a gentle rhythm, and for a while, there was nothing but the simple unspoken connection between you both before you responded.

“Maybe. Depends.” You tease, your words playful but laced with a hint of mischief.

His response is immediate—his large hand slipping into yours with a quiet sense of contentment, the warmth of his grip grounding you. There’s a comfort in the way he holds you, as if, in this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. His touch speaks volumes, the unspoken understanding between you both more powerful than anything words could convey.

“Someone clearly thinks highly of me,” he teases back, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Before you can answer, he leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch tender and full of quiet affection. The sweetness of the gesture catches you off guard, a simple act that somehow feels like the most genuine expression of his feelings—a quiet reminder of how deeply he cares.

You smile, a soft laugh slipping from your lips.

“All I was saying is that, as much as Piltover has its minor flaws—“ you begin, your voice light with amusement as you’re stopped short.

“Appalling flaws, really. Humongous, towering flaws,” he interrupts playfully, his tone teasing as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, still held firmly in his.

You can’t help but laugh at his wit.

“Yes, huge, appalling flaws. But despite all that, Topside is stunning at night. The lights here are beautiful, too, but nothing compares to the glow of Piltover.” You add, trying to make your point clear: a city’s beauty can stand on its own, no matter what darkness might lurk behind the scenes.

He regards you for a long while, his gaze lingering on your face with an amusement that never quite fades. The seconds stretch on, almost too long—what might seem like a few moments in the world’s rhythm becomes an eternity in his eyes. Each shift in your expression, each subtle change in your posture, draws him in, holding his attention as if time itself has slowed. And yet, even as eternity unfolds, it’s still not enough. To him, no amount of time could ever truly capture all he wants to see.

“That may be true,” he says, his voice steady, the smirk never quite leaving his face.

“But Piltover’s got nothin’ on you.”

[spxllcxstxr]

Cuddling with Jayce and Viktor • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: could you please write some jayvik x reader cuddling headcanons? I looooved your dating headcanons🥰🤭 -- anon

Warnings: heart melting fluff, that's literally all it is

A.N: Anon, I was delighted to get this request because I want to cuddle with jayvik at all times. Also I'm glad you liked the headcanons!! I hope you like these too!

•

Cuddling with your partners will forever be one of your favorite things. While Viktor may not be at ease with a lot of touch, that aspect seems to be pushed aside whenever the three of you are in bed

Viktor easily melts into Jayce's side, his face is usually flush with the crook of Jayce's neck, which makes it easy access for a peppering of kisses when he wakes up in the morning (he always wakes up the earliest, kisses Jayce, then you, before making his morning tea which he brings back to bed to slowly sip as he waits for his loves to rise)

Additionally, Viktor lays his hand in the middle of Jayce's chest, to feel his heartbeat or to feel up his muscles, no one knows and he’ll never tell. However, your own hand meets his at Jayce's core. The night usually starts with your hand on top of his, but some time during your slumber your hands swap, and Viktor's warm palm is placed atop the back of your hand, slender fingers grasping onto you

No matter how many times you wake up to this, the tenderness of the moment will forever make your face heat up and your heart beat rapidly

Viktor runs cold and Jayce is as warm as a furnace, so that really explains why Vik is always huddled up close to him

On the other side of Jayce lies you, also huddled up to his side. Jayce's arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing random shapes or equations on the small of your back. It’s oddly comforting—his fingers dancing across your skin. It sometimes feels like he may be writing paragraphs of something familiar, something you can almost make out, but you’re never able to

(Jayce will never admit this to anyone, but there are times he traces letter on your skin as you fall asleep. Letters that make up admissions of love, insecurities, hopes, and dreams. His fingertips will tell how much he cherishes your love and adores Viktor’s trust in him. Sometimes they spell out what he hopes is your future together—the three of you, bound by love and loyalty for eternity. It helps him fall asleep)

Jayce honestly doesn't mind at all that he is squished in between his partners because he gets to touch the both of you. He gets to know that the people he loves are alive--are with him. Jayce enjoys knowing that Viktor has returned from the lab unscathed and that whatever the poison is that lurks below them and loomed over Viktor's childhood hasn't killed him. Jayce feels as if when the two of you are tucked securely at his side, the three of you are untouchable. He loves feeling your soft skin underneath his calloused fingertips, the warmth of your breath tickling the delicate skin under his ear

His heart beats below the tangled hands of his partners and that's all he wants

While that is how the three of you are usually organized in bed, with Jayce in the middle, that doesn't mean you never directly cuddle with Viktor. There are times where Jayce is out, with the council or another sort of meeting, and you and Viktor have the apartment to yourselves. Usually the two of you will be reading (sometimes Viktor will read to you, sometimes you will read to him if he's too exhausted). Who's cuddling into who will depend on who's reading aloud to the other. But more often than not, the two of you will cuddle in a way where both sets of eyes can see the text

Viktor smells of the air after a heavy rain on days he doesn’t come home smelling of grease and metal. But even then, his scent is his own and addictive nonetheless

Your voices will be soft in the other's ear, which usually causes you to drift off to sleep. Jayce will come back to find the two of you heaped together, heads close together

You and Jayce are the ones that crave cuddles every hour of the day. Viktor pretends he doesn't, usually rolling his eyes when you ask for him to get his ass in bed. But then Jayce whips out those wide golden eyes and Viktor is easily pulled to bed

There is also some casual cuddling outside of the bedroom. Pulling the two of them from their work is difficult, but once you convince Jayce, it's all over

Jayce is also the type to sit on his desk in the lab with either you or Viktor between his legs, arms wrapped around your torso.

Viktor likes to complain, citing that it's a distraction, but once Jayce envelopes either of you in his arms, there's no escape

Knowing that every night ends with the three of you in bed holding onto each other is what fuels the three of you. In the end, everything is worth it; everything leads to the love the three of you have for one another. Nothing else matters except for the sweet and soft touch of your partners.

•

[jasvtsc]

good girl’s dream

“better? you’re gonna stop cryin’ now?” he asked, keeping his fingers in your mouth.

you sniffled and nodded, however a pathetic whine escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness after he pulled his fingers out.

sometimes, ben had his moments of tenderness where he wasn’t acting like a total dick. you were his little princess, so sometimes you got special treatment—well, you always got special treatment, but the options varied.

cause he would either destroy your pussy and call you a fucking slut or hold you tightly and stroke your hair as you fell asleep in his lap.

and now, you got the more tender side of him.

he sighed and wiped his fingers on his shirt, looking at you with something that resembled both exasperation and amusement. and maybe a tiny bit of concern.

you just fell and lightly scraped your knee like half an hour ago but kept wailing even after coming home. so annoyed with the sound of you crying (and not really knowing what to do to make you feel better) he stuffed his thick digits into your mouth. and that was enough to keep you quiet and calm you down as you softly suckled on them.

but when you started blinking more heavily, your body practically going numb, he quickly withdrew them. which explained the yet another pout on your face, your lower lip slightly quivering.

“come on, baby. it’s just a small bruise. it’s not that bad,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. fuck, you were making him soft. but he couldn’t be angry when you were looking so sweet, with those big puppy eyes that just yearned for his love and attention.

gosh, you were so pathetically adorable, just wanting him to take care of you.

with a sigh, he lifted you up, placing you on his lap and lifting your leg, looking at your knee. your skin was slightly scraped and reddened but it didn’t seem to be anything serious—at least not to him. he started blowing some air on your small injury, his warm breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. he smirked and then leaned forward, placing small kisses all over the spot.

when a small smile graced your face, he pulled away and started stroking your hair.

“there we go. atta girl,” he cooed lowly, cradling the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your temple. “much better when you’re not being a sniffling baby,” he scoffed and pulled your head forward, kissing your forehead and then your lips.

“i’m not a baby,” you murmured with a pout, and ben swore to himself that if you started crying again, he’d just put a muzzle on you.

“yes, you very much are. such a lil’ crybaby. always crying and sniffling for daddy, hmm?” he teased, his hands slowly going up your legs and under your miniskirt.

you gasped as his thumbs started rubbing your folds, toying with them through the thin material of the pink-ish lace. god, did he fucking love when you wore the things he bought you.

already in a daze-like state, you slumped further into the bed, basically drowning between the pillows as he kept working you up. you let out a soft whimper and he smirked, now beginning to rub your clit.

“these sounds are so much better than you sobbin’ your pretty eyes out, baby,” he drawled, applying more pressure on your sensitive bud and making you gasp, oh so sweetly. “yeah, so much better.”

slowly, he slid your now dampened panties down, but kept them on your ankles. then, he made you cum around his dick seven times, leaving you spent and filled to the brim with his creamy essence. satisfied with himself, he pulled your panties back up and patted your core, giving your messy folds a few strokes with his thumb.

“there we go. all sleepy and filled with daddy’s cum. and we’re gonna keep it there all nicely cause we don’t want it to go to waste or do we?” he cocked an eyebrow, expecting only one answer from you.

“n-no. we won’t,” you slurred, slowly shaking your head.

“good girl,” he smiled darkly, pressing his thumb on your clothed and filled hole, feeling you clench around nothing but your mixed juices.

you were such a good girl for him.

[solomonomenon]

skz kinks and favorite positions

⚠️ for entertainment purposes only *based on tarot

*I use what I read about how they are in bed as a base and draw a few more to see if it adds anything more so here we go

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

he’s bold and confident. he likes taking charge, he knows exactly what he’s doing and loves hearing you tell him he’s good at it (I think a little cocky). but there’s also a slow, sensual side—every touch deliberate, meant to make you melt. he’s the type to put in the effort, mastering what makes you tick, fiery yet grounded, and completely all-in.

kinks: praise, blindfold, bondage, food play, edging, overstimulation and I think he's switch (even though he likes taking charge, his energy doesn't scream dom to me)

positions: missionary, cowgirl, and maybe doggy or something that allows him to go deep

𝙡𝙚𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬

he’s imaginative and loves keeping things unpredictable, maybe even exploring roleplay to bring fantasies to life. he's also got a thing for authority? like some kind of power dynamics, playing push-and-pull between rules and rebellion. it's about balance, spoiling you one minute and taking charge the next.

kinks: roleplay, rules, power play, degradation, bondage, edging, overstimulation, I think he might like cockwarming, and his energy screams switch

positions: spooning (look at the taste choreo for ref.), reverse cowgirl (so he could look at your ass), anything standing when he wants to take control

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣

he’s into pushing limits, testing boundaries, and diving into something raw and intense like make-up sex after a fight. he’s all about words, whether it’s dirty talk or playful banter. he loves the mental connection as much as the physical one.

kinks: roleplay, power play, I can see both praise and humiliation, (maybe) pain like choking or slapping, and he's definitely a dom

positions: doggy, lotus, stand and carry

𝙝𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣

what I see is about mixing comfort with a hint of danger—something traditional, something vanilla, but with a twist to keep it exciting. he probably likes playing with tension, like power dynamics or pushing boundaries just for the thrill. he’s into trying new things, switching up roles, or breaking routines to see where the moment leads.

kinks: roleplay, I can see anal, something about costumes or like lingerie, maybe something like joi, exhibitionism?, and his energy leans toward dom maybe soft dom and he wouldn't mind being a sub

positions: anything from behind, missionary, butterfly

𝙝𝙖𝙣

he’s tender and playful but knows how to turn up the intensity when it’s needed. he loves quick, spontaneous moments with deep emotional connection, balancing fun and passion. one minute, he’s all gentle teasing, the next, he’s sweeping you off your feet.

kinks: sensory play like food play or temperature play, sex toys, edging, cockwarming, and he's definitely a switch maybe sub leaning

positions: doggy, mating press

𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭

he seems like the type who’s confident but also soft and playful. he probably likes a bit of control, but in a way that feels natural and comfortable. with some teasing and fun surprises, and he’s all about keeping things exciting but still sweet and chill.

kinks: he seems pretty vanilla to me maybe something like sensory play wouldn't hurt but I don't see much. and I think he's a soft dom

positions: probably missionary

𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣

he has this calm, confident vibe that builds tension slowly, making everything feel intense and exciting. he likes to take his time, finding the perfect rhythm and making sure everything feels right. but then, he throws in a playful side that keeps things fun and unexpected, always keeping you guessing.

kinks: sensory deprivation, movement restriction, edging, overstimulation, some imagery is giving me tits so I think he's into breasts play as well, and yeah he's a dom

positions: something like missionary, doggy, spooning with variations

𝙟𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣

he’s loving all the build-up, the tension and excitement of what’s coming next (definitely into long foreplay). he’s probably into contrasts—like switching between sweet and daring or keeping things just a little unpredictable. there’s definitely a cheeky, playful side too, like he enjoys teasing and keeping you guessing the whole time.

kinks: I can see some blindfold, roleplay, I can see mirror and maybe recording, and this guys is also a dom

positions: cowgirl, one card screams 69 and I couldn't ignore

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[fear-is-truth]

THERE IS AN IDEA OF PATRICK BATEMAN, some sort of clean-cut abstraction. sleek and composed, an entity dressed in cerruti suits and armed with a flawless smile that mirrors the world’s shallow expectations. the surface is pristine, polished…perfection. but beneath it lies nothingness. tonight, the edges are fraying. the mask of sanity isn’t slipping—patrick doesn’t allow that—but the cracks are there, visible to those who know where to look.

he spears a piece of civet de lapin with savage precision, the tines of his fork puncturing the tender meat as though it’s timothy price’s chest cavity, the cleaver in his mind driving neatly between the sixth and seventh ribs. patrick doesn’t look at you directly, but his peripheral vision is locked on you, on price, on the distance between you that feels like it’s shrinking with every word that leaves price’s greasy lips. price thinks he’s clever. using dim-witted jokes as an excuse to lean just slightly into your personal space. saying your name like he’s tasting it on his tongue like wine—it’s all part of some pathetic attempt to needle patrick. jealousy churns like acid reflux, climbing up his throat.

patrick doesn’t interrupt; he never does. instead, his irritation manifests in small ways. the tight clench of his jaw as price makes another asinine comment about “the boy next door.” this isn’t just jealousy—it’s humiliation, resentment. patrick can’t stand price’s charm, especially how he can flirt so casually, so sloppily, and still get a response. patrick has spent years perfecting himself and yet here you are, humoring someone who doesn’t deserve a fraction of your attention. his chest tightens as he watches you laugh, the sound so soft and genuine. patrick stares at his plate, trying to blink away the heat stinging his eyes.

when the waitress approaches to refill his glass, he smiles up at her. “i’ll kill you, cut your throat, drain the blood from your corpse, and have you stuffed like one of those taxidermy animals at d’orsay.”

..

later, in patrick’s pristine kitchen, you lean against the marble counter, still wearing the faint glow of wine and conversation. the scent of citrus cleaner lingers in the air. patrick stands by the fridge, unscrewing an evian. you’re recounting something from dinner, a moment you found vaguely amusing. “timothy really has this commendable switch,” you say, reminiscing about the way his ability to shift the tone of a conversation in order to keep it afloat.

the words register—or, rather, what patrick thinks he hears registers. his brows knit for a moment before his expression smooths, and he nods with agreement. “he is a contemptible bitch,” as though this has been a universally acknowledged fact all along.

you blink. “what?”

patrick sets the bottle down on the counter, his face impassive as he adjusts his cufflinks.

“price. a contemptible bitch. very true.”

your lips part to correct him, but the sheer absurdity of the situation stops you. patrick doesn’t notice your reaction—or if he does, he ignores it. he’s already moved on, straightening the lapel of his suit jacket, his mind cycling through another round of imagined violence involving price and a very large knife.

[talesofesther]

sweet serenity

Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook

Summary: After it all, Lucanis finds his serenity.

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing something for Lucanis so soon, but this sweet little thought came to my mind, and I couldn't let it slide. No spoilers ahead. I hope you enjoy it. Do let me know if you want to see more of him here! Requests are open, as usual.

Masterlist

An air of serenity engulfs Rook's meditation chamber, all quiet and calm. It's late into the night, or at least, what would be the equivalent of it in the fade. The large aquarium that covers an entire wall created ripples of liquid light on the floor and over Rook's skin. She watches for a moment as the fish swim lazily in the water, wondering still, in the back of her mind, how exactly they came to be in the fade.

Her attention wavers quickly, however, when her lips brush against raven hair. A smile comes to Rook's lips, one of her hands gingerly tracing shapes over his naked back. Her fingertips feel over a few bumps, some small, others not so much. Each scar on his skin had already felt the touch of her lips, too.

Lucanis is lying with her, or rather, on her. His head nests snuggly on the curve of her neck, facing away from the aquarium. One of his arms is over her stomach, and a steady and warm grip keeps her as close as humanly possible to him. He'd refused to leave her side, ever since he nearly lost her. Once is enough—the Crow had told her, his eyes glinting with pools of unshed worry, hurt, and longing.

Rook doesn't mind, much on the contrary. It feels almost healing to be so tangled with Lucanis, not knowing where he ends and she begins. She nuzzles onto the crown of his head, laying a chaste kiss there. It makes him shiver, she feels it in the goosebumps that rise on his skin.

He'd reacted the same way on their first night together, too; She had taken his cheeks between both her hands, only so she could touch his forehead with hers, noses bumping together while her fingers buried into his hair with the care of someone holding their world in their hands. And from her touch, she felt something wet drop onto her cheeks, once and then twice. His hands trembled where he held onto her waist. She had opened her eyes to find tear tracks down Lucanis' face. It had worried her, but in the same breath, he clutched at her hand like a lifeline and placed it more firmly onto his skin. On that night, she leaned forward again, her lips then tracing a path from below his eye, down to his cheeks, and until she found his lips again. There had been a distant salty taste to it as she kissed his tears away.

His goosebumps under her fingertips tonight bring the memory to the forefront of her mind, and she smiles, all sweet and adoring.

Everything is all too new for him, she knows. He even tried to deny his own feelings in the beginning. Rook still remembers the words Lucanis had told her not that long ago. You deserve better than to deal with my mess. Many times, he tried to give her an out, to keep her away; in his mind, it was safer that way. She deserved better, and Lucanis feared the possibility of him, or Spite, ever hurting her.

She'd convinced him otherwise. Showed him otherwise. She always did.

And now, Lucanis can happily drown in her embrace. He fears though, that it's without it that he might suffocate.

The quietness lingers, and Lucanis feels faint with the way she loved on him. Her touch is all too gentle and tender, he can't remember a time before her that he'd ever felt something like it. Perhaps never. He buries his nose further against her skin, a shuddering breath passing through his lips. There is a burning in the back of his eyes, but this time it doesn't come from Spite, for the demon has been blissfully quiet for a while now.

Lucanis felt her kiss, her fingers brushing over his scars—as delicate as rose petals on his skin. And he could crumble. He would get on his knees and promise her the world over and over if it meant she'd keep touching him with the gentleness of her hands.

"You're quiet tonight," Rook's soft voice says. It's a mere observation, as she selfishly missed the sound of his voice.

Lucanis hums, all sleepy, as his thumb traces the skin of her hip. "For too long," he holds a pause, they have the time all for themselves anyway, "I've wished for this… peace." The crow can feel her hand wandering, his eyes remain closed but her presence is intoxicating and he can't help but be aware of it. She's fidgeting with his hair, he feels the gentle tugs on the long strands.

"Spite?" Rook inquires, a little distracted.

"Is silent," he sighs. "With you, he's always calm." Lucanis' accent is heavy on his words and Rook smiles again. "I think… you are stuck with me now." There's the slightest bit of hesitation as he says it, still. Lucanis holds onto his breath, a little more awake now.

"Good. I was hoping to be." Warmth and affection drips from Rook's words, and the crow eases the air in his lungs.

Silence engulfs them again, but Lucanis is mindful of her movements. He senses her touch on multiple strands of his hair, working one over the other in a neat, small braid. He assumes as much, at least. It's more than welcome, he nearly purrs at her ministrations. Lucanis' hand lays flat against her stomach, drawing a pattern over her ribs, down to her hip, and back again.

Rook smooths one hand over his hair, fingers burying between soft dark locks, careful of the little braid now resting beside his ear. She picks out three strands and begins anew.

"What are you doing there, mi amor?"

Rook's cheeks become warm, a sheepish tilt to her lips as she bites back a smile. "Hmm, nothing."

She feels the shape of Lucanis' own smile against her skin, though, before he gives a kiss to the skin of her collarbone.

"I am not taking them off, you know," he mumbles, referring to the little artwork she's been doing to his hair.

She buries her nose against him to muffle a chuckle, and Lucanis can't take it anymore. He pushes himself up on his elbows, looking down at her with something that could only be described as adoration. All blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

He kisses her, over and over. He feels privileged.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Lucanis' taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[astrcmoni]

★ᯓ say you trust my loveᯓ★

pairing: billie eilish x fem!reader

MASTERLIST

synopsis: In the quiet tension of a rainy evening, you and Billie navigate the fragile cracks in your relationship, her unspoken fears and your quiet persistence threatening to collide. Through tender words and honest vulnerability, you begin to bridge the emotional distance, proving that love—yours and hers—is worth the effort.

warnings: cussing here and there …

wc: 2.4k

authors note: finally caught a break to write again. this is inspired by the songs ‘trustworthy’ and ‘bending my rules’ by flo (literally in love with their entire discography) anyways hope you enjoy this💋

the faint plink of the faucet echoed through the quiet room, irregular but persistent. each droplet hit the metal sink with a sharp, hollow ring, like a tiny clock ticking in no set rhythm. the sound seemed louder in the stillness, a soft but nagging reminder of something left unresolved. Occasionally, a bead of water would gather on the edge, hanging for a moment before falling with a heavier, more deliberate splash. It was the kind of noise that got under your skin, subtle at first, then impossible to ignore.

the air around you felt heavy, as if an invisible weight pressed against your chest. every breath came shallow, as if the room itself had grown too small to contain the silence. the space between you two buzzed with unspoken words, each one sharp and electric, but stuck just out of reach. It was the kind of tension that settled in your stomach, coiling tight like a spring, leaving you both restless and paralyzed. Every little sound—the creak of a chair, the faint hum of the fridge—felt magnified, filling the void where conversation should’ve been. The longer it stretched on, the more unbearable it became, like holding your breath and waiting for a storm that might never break.

the distance had been growing between you for weeks. it was subtle at first — billie canceling plans here and there, zoning out mid-conversation, brushing off your attempts at figuring out what’s wrong with simple “i’m fine’s”. But now it’s undeniable, overtime you’ve grown to be sick of the bullshit. something in your gut was telling you that something was up and you weren’t going to let her run away this time.

your head was held up by your closed fist as you sat on the end of the couch. the hairs on your skin stood up slightly as the cold air washed over you. the mugs of tea sat on the coffee table, untouched and long gone cold. the faint film on its surface shimmering under the dim light. outside, raindrops trickled down the windowpane, their slow erratic paths leaving streaks that blurred the world beyond. the dark clouds above hung heavy, threatening to burst at any moment but for now they held back— just like the words between you two. the air in the room felt damp, not from the weather but from everything that’s been left unsaid. even the clock on the wall seemed hesitant, its ticking faint and uneven, as if time itself were unsure whether to move forward or to stop entirely.

her eyes bore into her phone as she curled into herself in the corner of the couch, phone illuminating her face and casting a faint glow in the dim light. she’d been sitting like that for nearly an hour, scrolling through her screen as though it could distract her from whatever was on her mind. and all you could do was watch, watch as she avoided you—avoided the conversation that clearly needed to be held.

It wasn’t unusual for her to retreat in to herself when she was overwhelmed. It’s something that you’ve come to learn as the deeper your relationship developed. learning that her walls weren’t going to be the easiest to break down and you weren’t one to force them either. but this time it was different. this wasn’t just some stress or a bad day. it was bigger than that and you both knew it. it was a fear…a fear that she wasn’t ready to face, even when it ate away at your relationship the more the problem was ignored and you were determined to figure it out.

‘this can’t keep happening’ you thought as you let out a tired sigh.

“what?” billie responded, not caring enough to look up at you. “you’ve been quiet all day. what’s going on?”

“i’m fine” she murmured. her tone flat and words unconvincing.

“my god- here you go.” you sucked in a sharp breath as your eyes shut, trying to calm down your building frustration.

“what?” her brows quirked up in confusion as she finally looked at you. eyes as blue as the seven seas bore into your own, for what felt like the first time in forever.

“you’re giving me the same rehearsed bullshit billie..that’s what. you shut me out and you hope that I don’t notice but I do.”

perplexity flickered across her face, as she set her phone down. brows knitted together as her eyes widened slightly, darting back and forth searching for a plausible explanation. her lips parted, but no words came out at first, just a shallow breath, as though she were trying to catch up to the accusation. The furrow in her brow deepened, and her head tilted just enough to show disbelief, like they were trying to piece together how things had gone so wrong. “Wait, what?” she finally stammered, their voice shaky, as if the accusation itself had knocked the wind out of them.

“just tell me what’s wrong.” your words left your mouth, ending off in a small plea as you scooted on the couch. close enough to give you comfort but far enough to give her her wanted space.

billie shifted her weight, discomfort written all on herself. “nothing i’m just tired”

“you’ve been “tired” all week babe. just talk to me…please.”

Billie’s gaze flickered briefly, like a shadow passing across the room, before she quickly turned away. Her lips pressed together, tight and unreadable, as if the words she wanted to say had been swallowed whole. A slight shift in her posture—shoulders drawn in, a subtle retreat—spoke louder than any denial. When her eyes met yours again, it was only for an instant, a look heavy with something unspoken, a silent plea. Her brows lifted for just a fraction of a second.

“Can we not?” she muttered softly under her breath, before her gaze darted back down, focusing intently on her hands or anything but the conversation. The space between you stretched taut, and with a delicate sigh, her gaze dropped, focusing on anything but you—a quiet invitation to let the silence speak for her, to walk away from the subject before it unraveled any further.

“no. we’re going to have this conversation. wether you want to or not, it’s as if you keep waiting for me to fuck up.”

you knew her to well, if you didn’t address this right now it’ll only worsen until it’s too late. instead of letting it go you decided to come up with a compromise, subsiding your frustrations and coming with a softer approach. “look people have bad days, i get it. you’re allowed to have them but don’t act like you have to deal with it all by yourself anymore. i’m right here”

she reached for her phone once more as she swallowed hard, eyes flicking back to the screen. “you always say that,” billie’s voice barely audible, the sound so soft as if they weren’t meant for you to hear. words caught in the space between you two. fragile and vulnerable, like glass. as if she was testing the air before allowing them to fully fall open. “But what if you don’t mean it? What if one day, you wake up and decide that we’re…that i’m not worth the trouble anymore?”. the weight of her question lingered in the air like a quiet storm, too heavy to ignore.

your eyes slowly blink as you take in her mere confession. surprised at her honesty but not the fear behind it, because you understood it, you once lived it.

her gaze flickered around the room before landing on you once more. “it’s not you..believe me it’s not. you’re doing everything right, and that scares me. I’m not used to this—someone being so steady. I keep waiting for you to prove me right, to show me I was stupid for thinking I could trust you.”

Your chest tightens, a sharp ache slicing through your heart as Billie’s words settle between you. It’s sudden, unexpected, the kind of pain that makes your breath catch, like something fragile inside you has just been cracked open. You knew she was afraid, but hearing it—hearing her voice, trembling with vulnerability—hits harder than you imagined.

a frown etched itself onto your face as you finally spoke up, your words gentle but firm. “now baby that’s not fair. i’ve bent my rules for you—things i said i’d never do, i’ve done because of how much i care about you. i’ve bent over backwards to show you i have no plans on going anywhere. what do i have to do to make you believe that? doesn’t it mean anything?”

reaching out you took her hand into your own. thumb mindlessly caressing the ink that was etched into her skin. it was an act of comfort, for hers or your own? that you weren’t sure of.

“It does. but it’s like everytime I start to believe you, something in my head is telling me to just not trust this. like maybe i’m fooling myself again.” looking down at your intertwined hands she grabbed them and placed them in her lap, opting to play with your fingers as she spoke. this subtle gesture letting you know that although nervous— she felt safe enough to let you in.

“I don’t know…it’s not something you can necessarily fix. it’s….me. I’ve been let down so much, i don’t even know what it feels like to completely trust someone.”

your fingers lifted to her head, brushing back strands of auburn hair that fell astray behind her hair. lifting her chin with your knuckle causing her eyes to meet with your own. “I get that. And i’m not magically stop feeling like that overnight. But I need you to meet me halfway, billie. I’ve changed how I do things because I want this to work out. Because I want you, all that i’m asking is that you at least…try”.

“and what if I can’t give you everything that you need?”

you breathed out, words falling from your soft lips. “then i’ll stay here and prove you wrong…” you leaned in closer, voice steady. “I’ve never done this with anyone but i’m willing to for you, just let me in a little more. I don’t need perfect billie— I just need you to be honest.” the words came out with ease, the weight of them grounding you both. making you feel more certain than you had in days.

Billie’s gaze flickered to yours, her eyes softening just a fraction, but her lips remained pressed together, caught somewhere between doubt and hope. You could see the hesitation in the way she inhaled, as if every breath she took was a decision. She opened her mouth, but the words faltered. A small sigh escaped her, her shoulders slumping slightly as she leaned back, hand covering her eyes acting as another wall and shielding her from everything, as if the fight had drained from her.

“You think you can just… wait for me to change?” Her voice was quieter now, almost lost in the space between you. She didn’t look away this time, though. “I’m not sure I can be what you need.”

You felt the sting of her words, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, scooted closer, your hand reaching for the one covering her face without thinking, needing to make that connection. “You don’t have to be perfect,” you repeated, your thumb brushing against her knuckles. “Just be real with me. I can’t make you trust me, but I’ll show you that you can. All I need is the chance.”

For a long moment, she didn’t speak. Then, slowly, as if testing the waters, she squeezed your hand just slightly, a quiet admission that she might be ready to believe.

“you’re so…steady. It’s like you’re this constant— and i’m just chaos. How are you so sure?”

“Because I know what I want. and I want you, chaos and all.”

“you really think i’m worth all this effort?” billie’s eyes soften as she looks at you but she’s still hesitant. the hue of her eyes reminding you of swimming pools. so full of emotions that you can drown in it.

your head moved on its own without hesitation. “yes. i wouldn’t be with you if i didn’t. To be honest…I get scared too, sometimes i wonder if you’ll ever trust me the way i do you? but then i look and i know you’re the one for me. i’ll do whatever it takes to show you that.”

for the first time in days billie relaxes just a little. letting herself fall into you, allowing you to truly connect with her. a few beats pass by as you both fell into a comfortable silence. your hand combed through her hair over and over while you watched the rain.

The soft pecks on your neck pull you out of your thoughts, and you feel her smile against your skin. It’s a quiet, unspoken apology—a gentle way of saying she’s finally letting go, letting herself be here with you. You turn slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, and for the first time in days, there’s a softness in her eyes that you haven’t seen in a while.

“I’m not perfect,” she says, her voice almost too quiet, but it doesn’t feel like a confession anymore. It’s more like a surrender, like she’s finally giving herself the permission to just be—to let you in without the weight of all her walls.

“I never needed you to be,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I just need you to be here, with me, right now. That’s enough.”

Billie exhales, her body relaxing into yours once more, and this time it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no fear creeping back in. She’s just here, in this moment, with you. For the first time in a while, there’s peace in her touch, the steady warmth of her presence grounding you both.

The rain outside has softened into a light drizzle, the world outside feeling distant and muted, as if nothing else matters but the quiet connection you share now. You press a soft kiss to her temple, and her eyes flutter closed for a moment, the weight of everything finally lifting.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice small but sincere. “For being patient with me.”

You smile, a soft, tender curve of your lips. “I’ll always wait for you, Billie. As long as you need.”

And in that moment, everything feels like it’s finally falling into place. There’s no more rushing, no more wondering if things will work out. For the first time, you both just exist together—imperfect, but real—and that’s enough.

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 7 Infamous Lover

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 6.5k

Chapter 7/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Some things are set into motion in this chapter.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

It was an unusual morning for the two of you. Natasha stood in your kitchen, looking more at ease than you felt. Her mug was half-empty, cradled in her hands, while yours sat untouched on the counter before you, its steam curling upward in lazy spirals. The silence was deafening as you tried to process what Natasha told you. Isabella was still asleep in the other room.

Allowing Natasha to stay over had been a line you weren’t ready to cross, but the look on her face last night—the heartbreak she tried so hard to hide—left you with no choice.

You cared about her more than you could put into words, which made this more complicated. You didn’t want to be angry, but the way she’d shown up, raw and vulnerable, with a piece of her past you didn’t know how to navigate, was testing your patience.

Natasha broke the silence first. “I’m sorry for showing up like that. I just... I didn’t know where else to go.”

"Don't apologize for coming to me," You shook your head. You checked the time on the stove clock. 8 am. Neither of you had gotten much sleep. Isabella would be up soon, but she'd have many questions and comments. To feel like you had a handle on the situation, you began to make breakfast. Something simple. French toast and eggs. "It's just, I don't understand why she would call you, of all people."

"I don't hate her..." Natasha began. Then she stopped. Those weren't the right words. She set her mug down and rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s not what you think.”

You paused, spatula hovering over the skillet. Your tone was even when you spoke, and it wasn't as hard as before. "Then explain it to me. Because from where I'm standing, it looks like she still has a hold on you."

Natasha sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “She called me out of nowhere, drunk, stranded... I didn’t want to leave her like that. It sounds stupid, but I felt I had to help.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you said firmly. “She’s not your responsibility anymore, Natasha. You don’t owe her anything.”

“I know,” Natasha replied quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor. “But it’s hard. Carol... she was a big part of my life for a long time. Walking away from that hasn’t been easy.”

You softened at her admission, the frustration in your chest giving way to something more tender. “I get that,” you said after a moment. “But you’ve got to figure out what you want, Nat. You can’t keep one foot in the past and expect the future to wait for you.”

She glanced up, green eyes meeting yours, and you were struck by the vulnerability in them. You weren't sure what else to say, but before you could come up with something, Natasha closed the distance between you and gently cupped your cheek. You held your breath as she leaned in, her forehead resting against yours.

"I want you," she whispered, her words feathering against your lips. "I'm trying. I don't want to screw this up. I don't want to screw us up."

"Then don't," You muttered. "If this isn't what you want. If there's even a chance you want her, then you need to be upfront with me. If this is just sex for you..."

"It's not," Natasha said firmly, her eyes flashing with something fierce and protective. "It's never been like that. You know that."

"Do I?" You asked. "I'm trying to be levelheaded. You tell me your ex calls, and you go running."

"Not like that," Natasha sighed.

"You went to her," You pointed out.

"Because she was alone, drunk, and in trouble," Natasha shook her head. "I wouldn't have stayed. I just... wanted to make sure she was okay. That's all."

"Did she try to kiss you?"

"What? No," Natasha snorted, shaking her head. "God, no. She was drunk. Really, really drunk."

"So, nothing happened," you asked.

"Nothing," Natasha nodded.

"Okay," You nodded slowly.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," you said, returning to the stove and plating the food you'd made.

Natasha hesitated, then slid her arms around your waist, pressing her front to your back and resting her chin on your shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured. "I promise."

You hummed, leaning into her warmth. The knot in your stomach loosened, but it didn't completely disappear.

"I trust you," You nodded to yourself. It wasn't something you had to convince yourself to believe. She came to you. She told you the truth.

"That's good," Natasha nodded, a relieved smile gracing her face. She kissed the side of your head and then your neck.

"Mm, what are you doing?" You asked.

"Nothing," Natasha smirked.

"That doesn't feel like nothing," you teased, a hint of a smile on your lips.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but a small voice interrupted.

"What are we talking about?" Isabella yawned, shuffling into the kitchen with messy hair and sleep-heavy eyes.

"Nothing," you and Natasha said in unison, the words tumbling too quickly to sound convincing.

"Whatever," Isabella rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, as she climbed onto one of the kitchen stools. Her gaze shifted to Natasha, and she grinned. "Natasha, you're here."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded, taking a small step back from where she'd been standing close to you. She looked unsure, her hand brushing awkwardly against the counter. You understood the hesitation—it was a delicate situation, having her here when things between the three of you were still so new.

But Isabella didn't seem to share your reservations.

"Good," Isabella chirped, swinging her legs under the stool. "I was wondering when Mama would let you come."

Your cheeks flushed. "Bella," you said, trying to keep your tone even.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I like her. You do, too, right?"

Natasha stifled a chuckle, and you shot her a look.

"Natasha's just visiting," you said, redirecting the conversation.

"Sure," Isabella said with a sly grin, clearly not buying it. She turned her attention to Natasha. "Anyway, Mama, could you do my hair today? In a different style? Something that isn't babyish."

"You are a baby," You pointed out as you slid her a plate of French toast and fresh fruit.

Isabella rolled her eyes again. "I'm almost ten, Mama."

"Still a baby," You stepped around the counter to wrap her in your arms. "My one and only baby."

Isabella squirmed away, giggling. "Mama," she whined. "Stop. You're embarrassing me in front of company."

"Sorry," you apologized, smiling at Natasha, who was watching the scene with amusement. "Old habits die hard. I'll think of something to do to your hair. Eat your breakfast now, and we can walk the dog."

"Yay!" Isabella cheered.

Natasha's hand found yours, her fingers entwining with yours and squeezing lightly.

"We?" Natasha asked softly.

"Yeah," You nodded.

Natasha gave you a soft smile, the kind that reached her eyes and made your knees weak. You were falling for her, and there was no stopping it.

********

A part of you was glad Isabella was talking to Natasha. The other part was concerned. There were still things you needed to talk about that you hadn't figured out yet. And this whole Carol situation last night had left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't like the idea of her and Carol reconnecting. Not when it meant Natasha was spending time with someone who had hurt her before. Especially when that someone was her ex, especially when that someone was Carol Danvers, you didn't hate the girl. You barely knew her. Simply hearing of her reputation was enough for you.

You didn't want to get too in your head. Not as you were walking with Isabella and Natasha around the neighborhood.

"I'm in intermediate-level gymnastics," Isabella explained to Natasha. She held loosely onto Bear's leash as the dog pulled her over to a random bush. He really was a good walker most of the time.

"That's pretty cool," Natasha grinned, her hand holding yours. "How long have you been doing it?"

"Since I was six," Isabella boasted.

"She's pretty good," You added. "Gymnastics, ballet, and dance. She's the busiest kid I know."

"It's fun," Isabella smiled. "Keeps the mind going and the body healthy. Did you play sports as a kid?"

"I did ballet," Natasha admitted."Yeah, it was a long time ago."

"Did you like it?"

"I did," Natasha nodded. "I was good at it, too."

"Were you any good?" Isabella asked.

"Kind of," Natasha chuckled. "It was a long time ago."

"When did you stop?"

"Well, I didn't quit," Natasha explained. "I got older, and my body changed. The type of moves they have us do can be hard on the body."

"Oh," Isabella nodded, a little less cheerful. "So, did you ever hurt yourself?"

"Not seriously, no," Natasha shrugged.

"That's good," Isabella sighed, relieved. "I hurt myself last year. A twisted ankle."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I cried because it hurt," Isabella continued.

"Of course, it did," You smiled. "We'd take a break until you were feeling better. Then you were back at it."

"Yeah," Isabella sighed. "Rookie mistakes."

"You could say that," You grinned.

"Are you busy on Wednesday, Natasha?" You could see by the smile in her eyes that Isabella was about to ask her something without your permission.

"Wednesday? What’s on your mind?"

Isabella's face lit up with a mischievous grin, her eyes darting toward you briefly before returning to Natasha. "We have this recital rehearsal, and we get to bring a helper for some of the moves. Can you come?"

You groaned internally, already anticipating how this was going to play out. "Bella, we talked about this. You’re supposed to ask me before inviting someone."

"I know," she said innocently, twirling a strand of her hair. "But Natasha’s really strong. She’d be great for the lifts!"

Natasha glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused. "Lifts, huh?"

"It’s true!" Isabella insisted. "And besides, you said you used to dance. You’ll understand better than Mama. No offense," she added quickly, glancing your way.

"None taken," you muttered, trying not to roll your eyes.

Natasha seemed thoughtful for a moment. "When is it? I could probably stop by," she said, looking at you for permission.

"Great!" Isabella cheered, jumping up and down. "It starts at four on Wednesday, and we can pick you up."

"Or you can meet us there," you suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Isabella said, waving her hand dismissively. "Can we go to the park now? Pleeeease?"

"I think we can manage," You said, reaching out and taking Bear's leash. The dog had been patiently waiting during your conversation. You didn't think he'd wander off but didn't want to risk it.

"Yes!" Isabella cheered, throwing her hands up.

"Actually, I have a studio session now," Natasha checked her phone. "I'm pretty late, and Wanda's going to kill me."

"Oh, well, do you want us to walk to the house with you?"

"No, I have my car keys," Natasha denied. "I'll find my way."

"Oh, well, okay," You nodded. Isabella gestured for you to kiss her goodbye. You rolled your eyes at your kid and pulled Natasha down the sidewalk out of earshot. "So, I'll talk to you later?"

"You bet," Natasha nodded. She pressed her lips to yours, giving you a sweet, tender kiss. You leaned into it, savoring the taste of her and the feel of her. You'd never get tired of this.

"Okay," You whispered as you broke the kiss.

"Okay," She smiled, squeezing your hand. "Bye, Isabella."

"Bye, Natasha," Isabella called.

"See you, little one," Natasha smiled, winking at her before leaving.

You watched her walk away, admiring the view. It wasn't until she disappeared around the corner that you rejoined your daughter.

"You're in looove," Isabella teased.

"Maybe," You smirked.

"You should totally marry her," Isabella commented.

"Oh, should I?" You asked. "It hasn't even been that long."

"When you know, you know," Isabella said sagely.

"That's very true," You nodded.

"She makes you happy, right?"

"She does," You agreed.

"And I like her." Isabella listed. "You should totally marry her."

"How about we take things slow, okay?" You chuckled. "Let's see how things go."

"Whatever," Isabella giggled.

"What's with you and this whatever thing?" You wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Isabella shrugged dramatically, leaning into your side. "It’s just a vibe, Mama. You know, like, whatever happens, happens."

You couldn’t help but laugh at her sass. "I don’t know about you, but you’re too young to drop wisdom like that."

She grinned mischievously. "Maybe, but someone’s got to keep you in check."

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you hugged her tighter. "I think I’m the one who needs to be keeping you in check."

Isabella hummed, content to let you have the last word for now.

The two of you enjoyed the rest of the morning together, laughing and playing and making up silly songs.

******

When Natasha arrived at the studio session, initially, she didn't know what to write. She'd had a list of songs in her black book that she knew she wanted to lay out. But for the last hour, she'd been staring at the blank sheet, her pencil hovering uselessly over the staff.

"Are you writing?" Wanda asked.

"I am," Natasha nodded.

"Then why aren't we recording?"

"Just... a little writer's block," Natasha said.

"Writer's block?" Wanda repeated. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"I do, but..." She shook her head. "I try not to write such personal things. I have a melody and a couple of lyrics in my head, but I don't know if I should do it."

"Becuase you're in a love triangle?" Wanda guessed.

"No, it's not even a love triangle," Nataha shut her book. "It's not even a love anything. Carol is my ex. I blocked her number. Y/n is my now."

"So why the blockage?" Wanda asked.

Natasha paused momentarily, trying to figure out what was holding her back. Her heart told her to write, but her head told her to be smart.

"It's not like I haven't written love songs before," Natasha started.

"But these are about Y/n," Wanda nodded. "And Carol. I get it."

"Carol was a long time ago. What we had... it wasn't good. We didn't end things on good terms. Y/n, on the other hand, is something I want to try. Someone that means something to me."

"Then write about it," Wanda shrugged.

"I just don't know if I should," Natasha said. "Writing a song about Carol? Fine. We weren't happy. But Y/n. She's someone special. If I write about her and it doesn't work out..."

"You can't live your life worried about the what-ifs," Wanda pointed out. "If you want this relationship and're serious about her, then you must be willing to put yourself out there. That's what people do. They take risks. They have faith in one another. It's a leap of faith."

"When did you become a philosopher?" Natasha teased.

"I'm not," Wanda chuckled. "I just think you're overthinking it. Write the damn song, Natasha. Or I will."

Natasha opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. "Okay, it starts like this..."

"I love her, I want her, but my heart cannot recover,

Stuck in a whirlwind, won’t you get me out?

Fading in and out of what we were before,

But I'm losing me when I keep begging for more."

Natasha sat back, tapping the pen against the notebook's edge as she let the words flow through her mind. Wanda watched her carefully, a knowing smile on her face. Natasha had always been cautious, especially regarding matters of the heart, and Wanda had seen it enough times to recognize the hesitation.

"You know," Wanda began, leaning forward, "that song is pretty powerful already. The emotions are raw. You don't have to have everything figured out right now. Sometimes, you just need to let the music do the talking."

Natasha nodded, eyes still focused on the page, her mind racing with the thoughts of Carol and you of the past and the present. The confusion between what she'd been through and what she now had with you. It wasn't easy, but it felt right.

"You’re right," Natasha finally admitted, her voice softer. "I just... I don't want to mess things up with Y/n. She’s different, Wanda. She’s... real."

Wanda reached over and squeezed her hand, her expression gentle. "I know, and that's a good thing. It's a sign that things are changing for the better. Take it one day at a time, and don't overthink it."

"That's easier said than done," Natasha sighed.

"True," Wanda chuckled. "But I'm always here for you, even if it means reminding you not to be so damn stubborn all the time. Now, let's write some more of this song."

Natasha grinned, picking up the pen and turning back to the page, her fingers already itching to start composing. "You know, I'm glad we decided to work on this project. It's been a long time coming."

"Me too," Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up. "And hey, we might actually finish something. We recorded three songs with the guys. If we finish this and like it...we might actually be getting somewhere with the album."

"Don't jinx it," Natasha laughed. "But I wouldn't mind recording more. Especially with this."

"Yeah, yeah," Wanda waved her hand. "Let's just get this song finished. Then we can talk about the next one."

"Deal."

As they worked, the two women found themselves in a comfortable rhythm. The back and forth between them was familiar, and they quickly lost track of time. The song began to come together, and Natasha found herself getting more and more excited. This was the kind of music she wanted to be making—deep, soulful, real.

They spent the rest of the day working on the song, taking breaks only to eat or use the bathroom. When they finally called it a day, both women were exhausted but pleased with their progress.

"Okay, now for the next one," she said with a knowing grin.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Another one already? You don’t waste any time."

Wanda chuckled. "What can I say? We’re on fire. So, I thought… maybe we should try something different for the next single."

Natasha tilted her head in interest. "Different? How?"

"I’m thinking we stick to the punk vibe, but… I want to experiment with something soulful, a voice that's a little outside of our usual sound." Wanda's eyes sparkled with the excitement of the idea. "I was thinking Y/n could be a good fit for it."

"Y/n? As in, my girlfriend?"

"Yes, and my friend," Wanda nodded.

"You think she could do it?" Natasha asked, her chest warming at the mention of the you.

"Yeah, absolutely. She's got a great voice, and her lyrics are killer. Plus, she's not afraid to be vulnerable. That's the kind of emotion we're going for. What do you think?" Wanda began to pack up her things.

"I think it's a big ask," Natasha said. She sighed, her thoughts racing. "I guess I get the appeal. It’s just… Y/n's got her own sound. I don’t want to pull her into something that’s not authentic to her. Plus, she doesn't sing anymore."

"I get it, and I wouldn't be suggesting it if I didn't think she was right for the song. I've heard her sing before. She's got the range and the passion." Wanda looked at Natasha, her expression serious. "It's worth a shot. Maybe if she hears the song, she'll feel inspired to sing again."

"Maybe," Natasha said, though she wasn't sure. The thought of you singing again filled her with hope, but she didn't want to get her expectations too high. You'd clarified that singing wasn't part of your life anymore. Still, the idea of having you collaborate with them was intriguing. "Okay, I'll bring it up with her. But no promises."

"Fair enough," Wanda nodded. "I'll let you take the lead. Just don't wait too long. I think it could be a game-changer for us."

Natasha gave her a skeptical look. "A game-changer? Isn't that a bit much?"

Wanda shook her head. "Nah, not when it's true. Besides, the world could always use more soulful artists. It's a win-win."

"All right," Natasha relented. "I'll talk to her."

"Great," Wanda smiled. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Wanda," Natasha said, waving her off. She had a lot to think about.

The question was, where did you stand on all of this?

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 6

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: After returning from a press tour in New York, Glen reconnects with Gabby at a local bar where they meet up with their mutual friends, Tanner and Kayla. The evening is full of easy conversation and laughter, and Glen and Gabby share a walk back to her apartment. The chemistry between them is undeniable, and once inside, they share a tender, intimate moment that deepens their connection. In the quiet aftermath, Glen stays the night, and the two of them wake up together the next morning. As they enjoy breakfast, they open up about their families and childhoods. Glen listens attentively, offering support and comfort. The chapter closes with a simple, quiet moment of companionship as they share a calm morning together, setting the stage for what comes next in their growing relationship.

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Alcohol Use, Making Out, Semi-Nudity (People in their underwear), Mentions of Parental Death, Mentions of Trauma related to car accidents.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The plane’s wheels hit the tarmac with a gentle thud, and Glen exhaled a relieved breath. The press tour for Twisters had been exhausting, and though he loved his job, there was something about having a few weeks off that helped him relax. He had a few meetings or appearances here or there, but for the most part, he had two weeks to just enjoy some time off before he started filming his next project. The soft hum of the plane’s engines slowly faded as he made his way through the airport, his body feeling the weight of the past week of travel and interviews.

As soon as he stepped outside the terminal, the cool evening air greeted him, and without hesitation, he pulled out his phone, dialed Gabby’s number, and waited for the call to connect.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said when she answered, his voice low and familiar, a hint of excitement in it. “I just landed.”

"Hey," she responded, her voice a little breathless, as though she'd been holding on to the phone for this exact moment. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks. I’m so ready to see you. What are you up to tonight?"

Gabby hesitated, glancing over at Tanner and Kayla, who were chatting at the table. They were at The Backdoor Lounge, a trendy bar a few blocks from her apartment. It had been their usual spot lately, a place to unwind and talk about life. Gabby didn’t want to assume they would be okay with Glen wanting to crash their night, so she muted the phone briefly.

“Hey,” she said, leaning closer to Tanner and Kayla. “Do you guys mind if a friend stops by?”

Tanner raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile. “Is it Glen?”

Gabby couldn’t help but grin. She nodded. “Yeah, he just landed and wants to see me.”

Kayla let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, tell him to hurry up.”

Gabby laughed and unmuted the call, her heart already racing at the thought of seeing Glen again. 

“Sorry about that,” she said into the phone. “So, Tanner and Kayla are cool with it. I’ll send you the address.”

Glen’s voice was warm, and he smiled as he replied, “Of course, I’ll be there soon.”

Gabby sent the address to him, her excitement building. 

“On my way,” Glen said, before hanging up.

Gabby pocketed her phone, a happy smile on her lips. “He’ll be here soon,” she told Tanner and Kayla.

Kayla winked. “We knew it was only a matter of time.” Tanner chuckled and raised his glass.

Gabby rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at her lips. She felt her pulse quicken with anticipation, eager to spend time with Glen after a week of separation. As she settled back into her seat, she couldn’t help but feel like everything was aligning just the way it should.

Glen pushed open the door to The Backdoor Lounge, the familiar low hum of chatter and clinking glasses washing over him. It didn’t take long for his eyes to scan the room, easily picking out Tanner and Kayla near the back booth. He gave them a nod as he walked toward them, but his gaze immediately shifted when he realized Gabby wasn’t with them.

Tanner, catching his confusion, shot him a knowing grin and nodded toward the bar where Gabby stood. She was waiting for the bartender to notice her, tapping her fingers lightly on the counter, looking perfectly at ease in her surroundings.

Glen smiled to himself, feeling a rush of affection. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Gabby didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The warmth in the voice was unmistakable. She smiled, her heart doing a little flip in her chest, and turned to face him.

The moment their eyes met, her face lit up in that way it always did when she saw him. It was as though all the time and distance between them vanished in an instant. She reached out without thinking, pulling him into a hug, one that was just the right balance of familiarity and affection—not too much to stand out, but enough to make her feel his presence.

Glen returned the hug immediately, enveloping her in his arms and pressing a brief, soft kiss to her cheek. The gesture was warm and intimate, but he pulled away just as quickly, not wanting to linger too long in case any fans had noticed him. His eyes softened as he met her gaze again.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice gentle but full of warmth.

“I’m good,” Gabby replied, her smile still lingering from the hug. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, feeling both giddy and grounded by the simplicity of the moment. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Same here,” Glen said, his eyes brightening. “I missed you.”

Gabby laughed softly, looking at him with a mix of fondness and teasing. “Missed me? You saw me less than a week ago.”

“I know,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it feels like longer. You’ve kind of got me hooked on these little moments.”

Gabby’s smile deepened, feeling her cheeks warm at the compliment. She turned back to the bartender, signaling for a drink. “Well, now that you’re here, I think I’ll have something stronger than water.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that.”

They shared a knowing look before Glen leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “So, what are we drinking tonight?”

That sounds like a great continuation! Here's how you could transition the scene with Gabby and Glen heading over to join Tanner and Kayla:

After Gabby and Glen ordered their drinks, they made their way over to the table where Tanner and Kayla were waiting. Tanner looked up first, his face lighting up when he saw Glen approaching. He stood and extended a hand with a friendly grin.

“Good to see you, man,” Tanner said as they shook hands, the greeting firm and easy. But before Glen could pull away, Tanner pulled him in for a quick hug, slapping him on the back as they broke apart.

“Good to see you, too,” Glen said, smiling at the warmth of the greeting. 

Next, Glen turned to Kayla, who was sitting next to Tanner, her smile wide as she waved him over.

“You, too,” Glen said, leaning in for a quick hug with her.

Glen pulled back and took the empty seat next to Gabby at the table. Gabby made space for him as he slid onto the barstool, giving him a light smile as she took a sip of her drink. Glen could feel the warmth of her presence beside him, and it was a comfortable feeling. They fell into easy conversation as Tanner and Kayla caught him up on the latest gossip in their lives—nothing too heavy, just the little things that made life feel full.

Glen joined in, joking and laughing along, but as always, his attention kept returning to Gabby. When their eyes met for a brief second, he could see the quiet happiness in her expression. He couldn’t help but smile. Tonight felt right, and he was exactly where he wanted to be.

A couple of hours passed, and the lively chatter at the table began to settle. The bar was still buzzing with energy, but it was clear the night was winding down for their group. Tanner and Kayla glanced at each other, then stood up from their seats.

“Alright, we’re gonna head out,” Tanner announced, giving Gabby a friendly smile. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Gabby agreed, already standing up. “Thanks for a fun night, you guys.”

Kayla gave her a teasing grin. “Yeah, just don’t let him steal you away from us too often,” she added with a wink at Glen.

Glen chuckled. “I’ll try to share her,” he said, the easy camaraderie between them helping put Gabby at ease.

As Tanner and Kayla made their way toward the exit, Tanner turned to Gabby one last time. “Need a ride home, Gab?”

Gabby shook her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nah, I walked. It’s only a few blocks,” she replied, already feeling the cool evening air starting to settle in as she grabbed her purse.

Before she could finish, Glen spoke up, his voice warm and casual. “I’ll walk her home.”

Gabby turned to him, surprised but pleased. “Are you sure? It’s not far at all.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Glen said with a smile, holding the door open for her. “I don’t mind. We can make it a little night walk.”

Gabby met his gaze and, without hesitation, nodded. “Alright. I’d like that.”

She smiled as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air mixing with the warmth of the quiet buzz of the evening. It was just the two of them now, and the familiarity of being with Glen, the ease of it all, made Gabby feel a little lighter as they began walking down the street together.

As they walked side by side, the evening air cool against their skin, Gabby glanced over at Glen. “So, where’s your car?” she asked, a little curious.

Glen glanced at her, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I dropped it off at my place earlier when I went home to change. Decided to get an Uber here instead.” He paused, shrugging casually. “I figured I’d probably have more than one drink, so better safe than sorry.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips. “Smart.”

The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Gabby broke it again. “How was New York?” she asked, glancing at him. “You were there for press stuff, right?”

“Yeah, a lot of talk shows, some interviews, that kind of thing. It's a lot of repeating the same questions and answers over and over.” He let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “But it's always nice when I get to meet the fans after the screenings. That’s the best part, really.”

Gabby smiled at the thought of him being appreciated for his work. “I can imagine. How did it go? The movie?”

“Good. Really good. It’s been crazy, but... well, you know how it is.” He shrugged lightly, but she could see the pride in his eyes. “It feels good to have it out there finally. People seem to be really enjoying it.”

Gabby nodded, genuinely happy for him. “You deserve it. You've worked so hard for all of this.”

“Thanks.” He looked over at her, his expression softening. “And how about you? How’s the whole getting settled in Los Angeles thing going?”

Gabby sighed, smiling a little sheepishly. “Well, I’m starting to feel like I’ve got the hang of it. I mean, I’m still figuring things out. Still have some boxes I haven’t unpacked.” She laughed lightly. “But I like it here. Feels like a place I can... breathe.”

Glen nodded in understanding. “I get that. It's a lot at first, but you'll find your rhythm. You already seem to be doing well.”

Gabby looked over at him, the genuine encouragement in his voice making her smile. “I’m trying. I’m lucky I have good friends here, and... well, you. It helps.”

Glen grinned, his eyes flickering with something warm as he glanced down at her. “I’m always happy to be part of the good things.”

As they walked, their conversation shifted effortlessly from one topic to the next. It felt easy, natural—just the two of them, walking together, getting to know each other better, even in the quiet moments.

Gabby unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing Glen to follow her into the apartment. The familiar warmth of her space greeted her, but it felt different with him here. She kicked off her shoes by the door, her mind still lingering on their quiet walk as Glen closed the door behind him.

As soon as the lock clicked, Glen turned towards her, a smile tugging at his lips. His eyes softened with something that felt almost private, as though they were the only two people in the world right now.

“You’ve got no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he said softly, his voice low and sincere. He stepped towards her, his hands moving naturally to her waist. His touch was warm, a contrast to the cool air outside.

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as she looked up at him. “I missed you too,” she whispered, her words feeling more intimate than she expected.

Before she could say anything else, Glen leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. His lips brushed hers in a tender, slow kiss, his hands gently pulling her closer. It was simple, a soft and sweet moment that felt like the world had slowed down.

But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent. Glen’s hands slid up her back, tugging her closer as if he couldn’t quite get close enough. His lips parted and, without thinking, Gabby responded, her own hands reaching up to touch his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath her fingertips.

His kiss deepened further, almost hungry now, as he pulled her in, pressing her body closer to his. 

Glen reluctantly pulled away from her lips, his breath coming in shallow, unsteady breaths. For a moment, his eyes locked on hers, his gaze searching, as if asking for permission without saying the words. But the longing he saw mirrored in her eyes gave him no reason to hold back.

His lips trailed down the side of her jaw, his mouth warm against her skin as he pressed soft kisses along her neck. The feeling of her so close, the absence of her touch for the past week, overwhelmed him in the best way. His hands slipped around her back, pulling her flush against him.

He didn’t want to be this eager, especially so early in their relationship. They hadn’t really discussed intimacy or what they were both comfortable with. He didn’t want to make her feel pressured. But the soft sigh that escaped her lips, the way her hands found their way to the back of his neck, kept him moving.

He pulled away from the kiss, his lips finding the curve of her neck, trailing lower as he kissed her skin gently. The heat between them was undeniable now, but Glen remained cautious, not wanting to cross any lines they hadn’t yet talked about. He pulled back slightly, giving her space, his forehead resting against hers.

Glen pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, but his eyes still filled with desire. “I don’t want to rush anything,” he whispered, his voice low and hesitant. “I just—”

Before he could finish his thought, Gabby reached up and pressed her lips to his, cutting off his words. The kiss was soft, but there was a sense of urgency in it, a silent understanding between them. She pulled back, her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him with a quiet intensity in her eyes.

“I want this too,” she whispered, her voice thick with sincerity.

His smile was immediate, a sense of relief washing over him, followed by a rush of warmth. He couldn’t help but smile wider as he leaned in to kiss her again, the kiss this time more confident, more certain.

His arm wrapped around her back, pulling her close. With a swift movement, he lifted her into his arms, feeling her body relax against his, the weight of her trust making him feel stronger than ever. He paused, pulling away just enough to look at her, making sure she was okay.

Gabby’s gaze met his, her hands resting on his shoulders, a soft smile playing at her lips. “Bedroom?” she asked, her voice gentle but sure.

A small laugh escaped Glen, his heart beating just a little faster. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little breathless with anticipation.

He began to carry her toward the bedroom, taking careful steps, still holding her close. The connection between them was undeniable, and the energy in the air was electric. Gabby’s arms tightened around his neck, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.

When they reached the doorway of her bedroom, he paused, looking down at her once more. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice sincere, wanting to make sure this was truly what she wanted.

Gabby nodded, her eyes shining with quiet certainty. “I’m sure.”

With that, Glen stepped into the room, closing the door behind them, as he gently set her down on the bed. The moment felt both tender and charged with the weight of what was to come and they both seemed to know that whatever happened next, they were in this together.

As the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloped them, Glen’s hands gently moved to the hem of Gabby’s shirt. His fingers brushed against her skin as he began to lift it, pausing midway to meet her eyes.

“You good?” he asked softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability.

Gabby nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He slid the fabric up and over her head, tossing it gently onto a nearby chair before letting his gaze travel over her. The way he looked at her wasn’t rushed or predatory; it was as though he was taking her in, appreciating her fully. His hands rested lightly on her waist, his thumbs brushing against her skin in soothing circles.

As he began to reach for the button of her jeans, Gabby let out a small, nervous laugh.

“What?” he asked, stopping immediately, his brows knitting with concern.

She shook her head, a playful smile creeping onto her lips. “You’re not real.”

Glen blinked, his expression softening into a bemused smile. “What do you mean?”

Gabby bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before explaining. “I’ve just… I’ve never had a guy check in this much. It’s like you actually care how I’m feeling or something.”

For a moment, Glen just looked at her, his smile widening into something warm and confident. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, teasing tone, “sounds like you haven’t been with a real man yet.”

Gabby let out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushing as her arms looped around his neck. “Oh, is that what you are?” she teased back, her voice matching his playful tone.

“Guess you’ll have to let me show you,” he murmured, brushing another kiss across her lips, this one slower and deeper. “Then you can tell me.”

As the kiss continued, Glen’s hands moved with deliberate care, helping her out of her jeans and easing her back onto the bed. Every motion was unhurried, his touch reverent, as though he wanted to make sure she felt nothing but safe and cherished in his hands.

“You’re gorgeous, baby,” he whispered against her skin, his voice tinged with awe as his lips trailed softly along her collarbone.

Gabby felt her breath hitch, her fingers threading into his hair as her heart pounded against her ribcage. She didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky, but in that moment, with Glen’s careful attention and steady presence, she felt like the most treasured person in the world.

Glen leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss as his hands moved to the hem of his own shirt. With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. Gabby couldn’t help but let her gaze wander, taking in the sight of him.

Her breath hitched, and she felt her cheeks warm, but before she could say anything, Glen gave her a small, knowing smile. “What? You staring?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, biting her lip to suppress a grin.

He chuckled softly, his confidence shining through without tipping into arrogance. “Good. I like it when you look at me like that.”

Still holding her gaze, he slid off the bed and reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with ease. His movements were steady, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor the moment. The sound of the belt sliding free and the soft rustle of denim followed as he kicked off his jeans, leaving him in just a pair of fitted black boxer briefs.

Gabby swallowed hard, her eyes involuntarily drawn to him. “Not fair,” she said with a playful pout, trying to keep her composure despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

“Not fair?” Glen asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped closer, his hands resting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re… distracting,” she said with a shy laugh, gesturing toward him.

He smirked, leaning down so they were eye level. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most distracting person I’ve ever met.” His voice was low and teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.

Gabby felt her pulse quicken as Glen climbed back onto the bed, settling beside her. His hands slid gently along her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the earlier playfulness giving way to tenderness.

She nodded, her fingers brushing lightly over his shoulder. “More than okay.”

Glen smiled, brushing his lips across hers in another kiss, one that carried all the unspoken promises of what was to come.

Glen leaned down to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. But just as things started to intensify, he hesitated, pulling back slightly. His hand smoothed along her side, and his gaze met hers with a flicker of concern.

“Gabby,” he started softly, his voice a little husky but steady, “I… don’t have anything with me. No condom or protection. I didn’t plan for this, and I don’t want to assume anything.”

She appreciated his honesty, and the gentle restraint in his words made her chest tighten in a good way. He sat back slightly, giving her space as his thumb brushed against her hip in a soothing motion.

“We can stop,” he said firmly, though the warmth in his eyes didn’t waver. “I mean it. I want this to be about you, not just… the moment.”

Gabby blinked up at him, her mind racing. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the way he was prioritizing her over everything else.

She swallowed and nodded, sitting up slightly against the pillows. “I’m clean,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And… I have an IUD.”

His brows lifted slightly, surprised by her openness, but he stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“But,” she said after a pause, her gaze dropping to her hands resting on his chest, “I’m not sure I’m ready for… that. Bare, I mean. Even if I know you’re clean.”

Glen exhaled softly and nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I am clean, baby. But I get it,” he said without hesitation, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll never push you.” 

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in the best way. Gabby smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, slow and grateful. 

“Thank you for being so…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Patient? Responsible? Absolutely crazy about you?” he teased, his smirk returning, though it was softened by the warmth in his tone.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “All of the above.”

Glen chuckled, pulling her closer into his arms, their earlier urgency now replaced with a comforting intimacy. “I’ll always wait for you, Gabby,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re ready, you just tell me.”

Glen leaned back slightly, his hand still resting gently on her side, his thumb brushing against her skin in a comforting rhythm. He gave her a small smile, his eyes warm and full of understanding. “Let me grab us a blanket,” he murmured softly, leaning over to the edge of the bed.

He reached for the throw blanket folded at the foot and pulled it over them, cocooning them both in its warmth. Gabby shifted, curling up against him, her head resting on his shoulder as her arm draped across his chest. Glen adjusted slightly, lying on his back to give her room to nestle closer, his arm naturally wrapping around her and pulling her against him.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breaths and the faint hum of the city beyond her window. Glen’s fingers started tracing slow, soothing patterns along her arm, the gesture grounding and intimate without feeling heavy.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat, his voice low and steady.

Gabby tilted her head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving her lips. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “More than okay. Thank you, Glen.”

“For what?” he asked, his brows knitting slightly as his thumb continued its gentle path over her skin.

“For… this. For being patient, for listening, for making me feel safe,” she admitted. “It’s just… really nice.”

Glen’s hand paused briefly before he tilted his head down to press a tender kiss to the top of her hair. “You deserve to feel that way, Gabby. Always.”

She smiled against his chest, letting his words settle over her like the warmth of the blanket they shared. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone lighter this time. “So, tell me more about New York. What was the craziest thing that happened while you were there?”

Glen chuckled softly, the tension from earlier melting into a new rhythm between them. “Oh, that’s easy. The hotel had this wild mix-up, and I ended up getting someone else’s room service—twice. Apparently, someone on the floor above me had a thing for caviar and champagne at midnight. But what about your week?”

Gabby’s voice was soft and steady as she recounted a story about her first few days in Los Angeles. She started to recount her story of getting lost during a walk she had taken.

“And then I got lost on the way to this… uh… this coffee shop I wanted to try,” she murmured, her words slowing as her body relaxed further against Glen. “I ended up walking in circles for like… twenty minutes…” Her sentence trailed off, her voice growing faint as her head rested more heavily against his chest. 

Glen glanced down, his lips twitching into a gentle smile as he watched her fight the sleep creeping in. Her fingers, which had been lightly tracing absent shapes on his chest, had stilled completely.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Glen asked softly, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Mm, no,” she protested weakly, her words slurred. Her eyelids fluttered open for a brief moment before closing again.

Glen chuckled, his hand brushing lightly over her arm. “Gabby, get some sleep.”

She shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent before tilting her head up just enough to murmur, “Are you gonna stay?”

The question caught him off guard for a split second, and he paused, considering her words. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

She nodded sleepily, her forehead brushing against his collarbone. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Glen’s heart softened at the vulnerability in her answer, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Then I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his tone firm with reassurance.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she nestled closer to him, her body molding perfectly against his side.

“Sweet dreams, Gabby,” Glen urged softly, his hand resuming its slow, soothing path along her arm.

This time, she didn’t resist. Her breathing evened out within moments, and Glen stayed exactly where he was, holding her close and watching over her as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

* * * *

Gabby stirred as the sound of a phone ringing cut through the quiet of the morning. Her mind was groggy, and it took her a moment to register that it wasn’t her phone. She blinked her eyes open, noticing the faint light filtering through the curtains and the cozy warmth against her back. Glen’s chest was pressed to her, his arm loosely draped over her waist, holding her close in their sleep.

Glen groaned behind her, his voice still husky with sleep. "Ugh... who’s calling this early?"

Gabby turned her head slightly to glance at him, her voice soft. "Maybe you should check?"

He let out a resigned sigh, his arm slipping away as he rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Squinting at the screen, he groaned again, this time more dramatically.

Before Gabby could ask any questions, Glen slid his thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice laced with sleepy affection.

Gabby, suddenly aware of their intimate position, turned onto her back and pulled the blanket higher around her, a small smile playing on her lips as she listened to his side of the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Glen said, rubbing his hand over his face as he spoke. “What’s up?”

There was a pause, and Gabby noticed his lips twitch into a small smile. 

“No, just at a friend’s place,” he said vaguely, his gaze flickering toward her for a brief second before he looked away again, clearly trying to avoid letting anything slip. Another pause, and then he let out a quiet laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just needed a change of scenery.”

Gabby bit her lip, trying not to smile at his attempts to sidestep his mom’s curiosity.

“Listen, Mom, I’ll call you back later, okay?” Glen said after a moment, his tone affectionate but firm. “Yeah, I promise. Love you too.”

Glen ended the call and let his phone drop onto the pillow beside him. He tilted his head to look at Gabby, who was watching him with a bemused expression.

“Your mom sounds sweet,” she teased, propping herself up on her elbow.

“She is,” Glen said with a faint smile. “But sweet and nosy aren’t mutually exclusive when it comes to her.” He shifted onto his side again, propping his head on his hand as he looked at her. “Sorry for the wake-up call.”

“I don’t mind,” Gabby replied, her voice warm. “It was worth it to see you squirm a little.”

He chuckled, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Oh, you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “What do you say I make us breakfast to make up for it?”

Gabby laughed as she sat up, wrapping the blanket around herself. “Alright, show me what you’ve got, Mr. Movie Star.”

Glen sat up and then got out of bed. He stood at the edge of the bed, pulling his jeans back on and fastening his belt. The soft fabric of the white undershirt he’d worn the night before stretched over his torso, clinging just enough to remind Gabby of how unfairly good he looked even in the simplest clothing.

“You’re staring,” Glen teased, catching her gaze as he straightened up.

“Am not,” Gabby shot back with a playful smirk, slipping out of bed herself. She grabbed a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of leggings from her closet, quickly pulling them on before turning to face him. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Glen chuckled, his voice warm as he motioned toward the door. “Come on. Let’s see what kind of breakfast magic I can whip up in your kitchen.”

“Magic, huh?” Gabby replied as she followed him out of the bedroom.

They made their way to the kitchen, the early morning light filtering through the windows and casting a soft glow on the small space. Gabby slid onto one of the stools at the island, tucking her legs beneath her as she watched Glen take in his surroundings. He stepped toward the fridge, opening it and scanning its contents with a thoughtful expression.

“Let’s see...” he murmured, rummaging around. “Eggs, butter... and not much else.”

“I don’t really do breakfast,” Gabby admitted, resting her chin in her palm.

“Clearly,” Glen said with a grin, moving to inspect the cupboards. “But you do have bread. Eggs and toast it is.”

“Fancy,” she teased.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the classics,” he shot back, grabbing the carton of eggs and a loaf of bread. He set them on the counter before opening another cupboard in search of a pan. Gabby watched him move around the kitchen, his ease and confidence making her smile.

“You look way too comfortable in my kitchen,” she remarked.

Glen glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What can I say? I’m a natural. Now, do you have a toaster, or am I going to have to MacGyver this?”

Gabby laughed, leaning forward to point to a cabinet. “Top shelf. And there’s a frying pan in the drawer under the stove.”

“Thanks,” Glen said, retrieving the toaster and pan.

She rolled her eyes, but her grin didn’t falter as she watched him plug in the toaster and set the bread aside. A comfortable silence fell between them as he cracked a couple of eggs into the pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen. His movements were fluid and precise, and Gabby found herself mesmerized by the simple act of him cooking.

“Do you cook often?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Whenever I have time,” Glen replied, glancing at her. “It’s nice to do something simple every now and then, you know? Plus, I enjoy getting to do it when I can.”

Gabby rested her chin in her hand again, a soft smile on her lips. For someone she’d only been seeing for a week officially and only known for a few weeks before that, Glen already felt like he belonged in her space, like he fit perfectly into the rhythm of her life. The thought was both comforting and a little terrifying, but she chose to focus on the comforting part for now.

When the toast popped up, Glen plated it alongside the eggs and set the dish in front of her with a mock bow. “Your breakfast, m’lady.”

“Why, thank you,” Gabby said with exaggerated politeness, taking a bite. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Okay, I’ll admit it—this is actually really good.”

“I told you I’m a natural,” Glen said, leaning against the counter with a smug grin.

Glen slid onto the stool next to Gabby, his plate in hand, and set it down on the island. Their elbows brushed as he settled in, but neither of them moved away. Gabby couldn’t help but smile as they started eating, the warmth of the morning and his presence making her feel unusually light.

“So,” she said between bites, “do you always cook breakfast for women you’ve only dated for a week?”

Glen smirked, taking a bite of his toast. “Only the ones who let me spend the night.”

Their laughter filled the small kitchen, the kind that came effortlessly when two people were completely at ease with each other. Glen glanced at her, his smile softening as he leaned back slightly on his stool.

“This is nice,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter. “I don’t remember the last time I just sat and had breakfast with someone like this.”

Gabby tilted her head, curious. “What do you mean?”

“My life lately has been go, go, go,” he explained, gesturing vaguely with his fork. “Mornings are usually rushed, grabbing a bagel and coffee and eating it in the car on the way to the first appearance of the day. There hasn’t been a lot of time for, you know, this. Just sitting, talking.”

Gabby nodded, taking another bite of her eggs. “I get that. Life in L.A. can be the same way. Everyone’s always in a rush to get somewhere or do something. But growing up, my family made a point of sitting down for meals together. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—you name it.”

“That sounds nice,” Glen said, his tone thoughtful.

She looked at him curiously. “What’s your family like?”

Glen smiled, a mix of fondness and amusement crossing his face. “Chaotic, mostly. I have two sisters, so our house was always loud. Someone was always yelling, singing, that kind of thing. My mom used to say we were the reasons she started getting gray hair so young.”

Gabby laughed, picturing a younger Glen in the middle of the chaos. “I can see that. So, you’re the youngest? The baby of the family?”

Glen shook his head. “Middle child. Lauren is older than me, and then Leslies younger than me.”

“Ah, the only boy and the middle child. So you’re the forgotten child.” Gabby smirked.

“Nope,” Glen said, popping the “p” as he grinned. “Hard to get forgotten when you’re the favorite.”

“Oh, you were the favorite, huh?” Gabby teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Glen said with mock seriousness. “Just don’t tell my sisters I said that. They’d never let me hear the end of it.”

Gabby shook her head, laughing softly. “You sound like you had a fun childhood.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. “My mom’s the heart of the family, though. She kept us all together, even when my dad was busy with work. She’s the kind of mom who would pack our lunches with little notes in them, even when we were in high school.”

Gabby’s smile softened. “She sounds wonderful.”

“She is,” Glen said, his expression warm. “What about your family? You said you guys always ate meals together. Were you close?”

Gabby smiled softly as she set her fork down, leaning back slightly against the stool. “Growing up as an only child was... quiet, I guess,” she said. “It was just me, my mom, and my dad. They always made time for me, though. Family dinners, movie nights, board games—I think they wanted to make sure I didn’t feel lonely, since I didn’t have siblings.”

Glen nodded as he finished a bite of his toast. “Sounds like they were great parents.”

“They were,” Gabby said, her smile widening at the memory. “My mom was the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking into it. She was funny, warm, and always had this way of making people feel seen, you know? And my dad... he’s quieter, more reserved, but he’s the most dependable person I know. He’d move mountains for the people he loves.”

Glen listened intently, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke. There was a light in her expression, a glow when she talked about her family.

“It sounds like they raised you right,” Glen said, his voice gentle.

Gabby chuckled softly. “I like to think so. I mean, they had their moments. My mom could be overprotective, and my dad... well, he’d let me get away with things if I batted my eyelashes at him just right. But they balanced each other out.” Her words hung in the air for a moment, and without thinking, she added, “Now it’s just me and my dad.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Gabby froze. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened slightly as if she could somehow pull the words back. She hadn’t meant to say that—not to Glen, not to anyone. Talking about her mom wasn’t something she did often, not because she didn’t think about her but because it was too painful to relive.

Glen caught the brief flicker of hesitation in her expression. He set his fork down and leaned slightly closer, his tone soft but careful. “Gabby?”

Her gaze dropped to the plate in front of her, and she swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say it out loud, to explain something so deeply personal. But when she glanced at Glen, his expression wasn’t prying or demanding. He was just... there. Gentle.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” Glen added quickly, sensing her hesitation. “I get it. No pressure.”

Gabby took a deep breath, her fingers playing with the edge of her napkin. “No, it’s okay,” she said quietly, though her voice trembled slightly. “It’s just... I don’t usually talk about her. About what happened.”

Glen didn’t say anything, just gave her the space she needed. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against her knee. The small touch was grounding, reassuring.

“She died when I was nineteen,” Gabby began, her voice just above a whisper. “She was on her way home from work. It was late, and... and a drunk driver ran a red light. He hit her car and killed her instantly.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Gabby could feel the tightness in her chest as the memories surfaced. She blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry.

Glen’s hand moved to her back, his palm warm and steady as he rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades. 

“Gabby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with genuine empathy.

“It was so sudden,” Gabby continued, her gaze distant now. “One minute, she was there, and the next... she wasn’t. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. Glen’s hand never stopped its soothing motion on her back, his presence grounding her in the moment.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” Glen said after a moment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Gabby glanced at him, her lips trembling as she tried to muster a small smile. “It’s been years, but some days it still feels fresh, like it just happened. My dad and I... we’ve learned to manage, but there’s always this... hole, you know?”

Glen nodded, his hand slipping from her back to cover hers on the counter. “Yeah. A loss like that doesn’t just go away. But it sounds like you and your dad have each other, and that’s something.”

She nodded, her fingers tightening slightly under his. “We do. He’s been amazing, honestly. I don’t know how he held it together for me when I know he was hurting just as much.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty incredible dad,” Glen said, offering her a soft smile.

“I do,” Gabby agreed, her voice steadier now. “I’m lucky to have him.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. If anything, it felt safe—like Gabby had shared something she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for too long, and Glen had handled it with the kind of care she hadn’t expected.

Glen squeezed her hand gently. “Thanks for telling me,” he said softly.

Gabby looked at him, her eyes meeting his. “Thanks for listening.”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “Anytime.”

Gabby felt a small warmth spread through her chest, the heaviness from earlier lifting slightly. It wasn’t often she opened up about her mom, but somehow, with Glen, it felt... okay.

Gabby took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she sat back in her stool. Glen’s hand lingered on hers for a moment longer before he pulled back, reaching for his fork again. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward—it was comforting, the kind of silence that didn’t demand to be filled.

She glanced at him as he took another bite of his eggs, his easy smile still in place, and felt a wave of gratitude. Somehow, Glen had a way of making her feel safe, like there was no judgment, no rush. Just understanding.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said softly, picking up her own fork to finish the last few bites on her plate.

“Thanks for letting me raid your kitchen,” Glen replied with a grin, glancing over at her. “Not bad for throwing together what you had, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” she said with a small smile, her tone teasing. “I might have to keep you around if it means I don’t have to cook.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Careful, Gabby. You keep complimenting me like that, and I might start getting a big head.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but the warmth in her expression lingered. “Oh, you think you don’t  already?”

The two of them laughed, and Gabby felt the heaviness of their earlier conversation continue to lift. By the time they’d finished eating, her plate was clean, and her mood had lightened.

Glen stood first, collecting their plates and carrying them to the sink. 

“Let me take care of this,” he said when she moved to follow.

“You don’t have to—”

“Sit,” he interrupted gently, turning to give her a look that brooked no argument. “You let me stay the night and provided the food. Let me do this part.”

Gabby sat back down with a small shake of her head, watching as he rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. The domesticity of the moment wasn’t lost on her, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

When Glen turned back around, wiping his hands on a towel, he caught the look on her face. “What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she said, shrugging lightly. “I just... It’s been a long time since I’ve had a morning like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just... easy,” she said, gesturing between them. “Good conversation, good company. It’s nice.”

Glen’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, leaning his hands on the counter across from her. “I’d say the same,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the quiet intimacy of the morning wrapping around them like a blanket. Gabby felt her cheeks warm slightly, but she didn’t look away.

Eventually, Glen straightened and checked the time on his phone. “Well,” he said, his tone light, “I should probably get going before your neighbors start wondering who the guy in last night’s jeans is.”

Gabby laughed, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure my neighbors have better things to do than spy on me.”

“Still,” Glen said, grabbing his jacket from where he’d draped it over a chair, “I should head out. But...” He paused, glancing at her, his expression suddenly serious. “Thanks for letting me stay last night. For letting me... be here. I mean it.”

Gabby nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Thanks for staying.”

Glen hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but instead, he leaned down and pressed a quick, warm kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft.

And with that, he headed for the door, leaving Gabby standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face and a warmth in her chest that hadn’t been there before.

[oddsconvert]

I don’t know if you’ve been asked this yet but could we get a snippet of Ronan actually being nice to Izaak for once. Further down the line when he’s good pet. No pain or work around tricks to make him get into trouble. Like how he coddles Henley. I just want to see this boy not scared for two seconds lol.

Some broken Izaak, coming up! Having a little cuddle with his owner! 🥰🙈

CW: pet whump, whumper turned whumpee, intimate whumper, submissive whumpee, light reference to previous torture, begging.

---

Ronan’s gentle fingertips absent-mindedly danced across Izaak’s scalp, waltzing with his dark chocolate curls of hair. Not a flinch or a wince, nor a cringe or grimace came from Izaak. His usually sharp and observant eyes were soft and doe-like, slowly slipping shut as he melted into the tender touch. 

It pained Izaak to admit how taking this was easier. Much easier. Easier than all the kicking and screaming; hissing and scratching, the growling and barking that never got him anywhere other than in a world of pain. Through blood, sweat and tears, Izaak had lost to himself, his fight ripped from him. It was terrifying, almost exhilarating? It was exhausting. But most of all - it felt like sweet relief. In the surrender, Izaak found some twisted sense of peace. 

He purred, like a content kitten, and nestled further into Ronan’s lap. What a fall from grace, what a fucking embarrassment.  From the apex predator to a wounded beast, yearning and vying for comfort.

He couldn't sink any lower if he tried.

“Naw. Sleepy puppy. Should we get you to bed and all tucked in?” Ronan cooed down to his perfect little pet. As he reached across Izaak’s curled-up body for the remote to switch off the TV, Izaak squirmed and whined his dissent. He would bend over backwards to delay being dragged back down to that frigid basement, being chained like a beast, left alone with his thoughts, demons and the ghost of his past tethered to the opposite wall.

Izaak felt his heart plummet as he gazed up at Ronan, pleading with his glassy eyes. He desperately wanted to stay upstairs, safe and warm. Up there, he could believe in some warped sense of normality. Leave the horrors behind and pretend.

Despite how much it disgusted him, Izaak forcibly swallowed his final few crumbs of pride and nuzzled into Ronan’s belly. A calculated act of submission.

“Sir - please. I want to-”

Izaak caught himself there and the plea died on his lips. Pets didn’t have wants. Izaak shouldn’t ever want for a thing, his master gave him all he needed. If he wanted to keep Ronan sweet, he can’t risk silly fuck ups. He should blindly obey and be grateful for what he is afforded. Even if it’s scraps.

A weak sob choked in his throat, "Please...can we stay like this? I'll be so good-”

He was like a begging dog. His eyes wide and pleading, his head tilted to the side. If he had a tail, he’d wag it, too.

Ronan's fingers traced Izaak's sharp jawline, his touch lingering. A moment stretched between them, a silent battle of wills. Izaak's breath hitched, his heart pounding ten to the dozen in his chest. His collar suddenly felt suffocating, like it was two notches-too tight around his neck.

"Oh, aren't you darling, Izzy? You want to stay with me, hm? Curled up in my arms?"

His fingers delved beneath Izaak’s chin and scratched the sweet spot, the place where a dog would lean into the touch and kick his leg frantically in enjoyment. A low rumble escaped Izaak’s throat, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. He tilted his head up, offering himself to Ronan's hands.

“I have you wrapped around my little finger now, don’t I, pet?” Ronan chuckled.

“Yes, sir,” Izaak whispered, earnestly and shamefully.

“Don’t get me wrong, you were oh so fun when you were naughty. But I much prefer you like this. So desperate, so submissive. Such a needy little thing.”

Never in a million years would Izaak have thought it would come down to this. A shadow of his former self, a mere husk of the man he once was. The once proud and defiant spirit had been broken down, shattered into a billion pieces. Now, he was nothing more than a creature of habit, a slave to Ronan's whims.

"I knew you'd break for me, sooner or later."

Shame settled heavy in Izaak's empty belly. 

“And isn't it a sight for sore eyes! You're a delight. Such a good boy,” Ronan hummed, his voice laced with a hint of cruelty. His thumb stroked across Izaak's puffy cheeks, “So obedient. Don't you worry your pretty little head, we can cuddle all you want, pup.”

Izaak forced a wavering, teary smile to try to hide the turmoil within.

He craved the fire that used to rage fiercely within his core, long since snuffed out. Deep down, Izaak still felt the smallest flicker remained, a tiny ember waiting to reignite. Determination and defiance smouldered, ready to be rekindled.

Instead of fueling it, Izaak resigned to his cruel fate and rested his weary head on Ronan's thighs. "Thank you, master. You're too good to me."

---

Ronan tag list: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak tag list: @thewhumpywitch @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

[ryuichirou]

are any of the twst girlies embarassed of their tits? wether it's because they're too small or too big or too generally existing?

Continuing with our boob special weekend lol Let’s talk about them some more. Thank you once again for the most important prompts in the world, Anon!

For those who missed it, yesterday we talked about twst girlies’ attitude towards their partner’s boobs. And also, a while ago we had a post in which I talked about boob hcs in general… In the latter one I briefly talked about the girlies’ relationships with their own boobs, so this time I’ll try not to write too much (a task that is Ryu going to fail in 3, 2…)

Riddle – when she isn’t focusing on it, she isn’t insecure about it, but when people (mostly Ace or Floyd) tease her about it, she gets very defensive and says that her breasts are not done growing yet. I guess she does have a complex … she fits into the trope of flat girl being jealous of bigger girls too nicely. Maybe it’s because the Queen of Hearts was quite a busty woman herself.

Ace – she isn’t embarrassed at all, she actually considers herself lucky because her boobs aren’t really big and don’t bother her at all, but she also isn’t really flat. The existence of boobs doesn’t bother her either. Of course, that doesn’t mean that she won’t compare her size to Deuce’s all the time.

Deuce – for the most part she forgets about them and isn’t super bothered, even though wearing a bra feels like a chore for her sometimes, since she used to not wear it for a long time. Her breasts also get pretty tender during a certain time of the month, and it makes running more difficult, but that’s about the only complain that she has.

Trey – she isn’t really insecure; her breasts began to rapidly grow when she was pretty young, so she is used to being a big girl. They do get in the way sometimes though, especially in the kitchen (which is annoying) or in the lab (which is dangerous), so if asked, Trey would say that she would actually like to have smaller boobs. She also gets a big embarrassed when others comment on it.

Cater – she is pretty comfy! Sometimes she makes jokes about wanting to be bigger, being jealous of Trey and stuff like that, but she really feels pretty okay with her boobs being medium-sized (closer to smaller ones).

Leona – not really insecure, but kind of inconvenienced. She doesn’t like wearing bras, and she is pretty big+her nipples are dark, so it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t. It’s not like she cares about what other think of her, of course… one thing that she hates it when she falls asleep in a bad position and squishes her boob. Ouch.

Ruggie – oh she’s very okay with where she’s at, she’s happy that she never really had to buy herself a bra, and that her boobs are so small she pretty much forgets she has them. There’s never been a moment in Ruggie’s life when she was upset about having small tits.

Jack – she is both one of the biggest and the most physically active girls of the cast, so she would love to have smaller breasts. It’s pretty okay when she’s skiing or snowboarding because the layers of clothes compress her boobs very neatly, but when she’s running, she is having a very hard time. She has to get special types of sports bra, otherwise she wouldn’t really be able to run… In her ideal world, she is a B, in reality though, she is at least a D and growing.

Azul – there are moments when she is annoyed with her boobs, and she complains about them being big on a very rare occasion, but in general she enjoys being between C and D (she should be more of a C but I keep drawing her significantly bigger lol). She thinks that her boobs are one of her many assets and she is proud of this asset. A girl with a face this cute and boobs this nice can’t be not-trustworthy, right? She also puts them on a table when she works a lot, but that’s just a habit.

Jade – having big boobs isn’t something unusual for a mermaid, but having them underwater and on land makes a lot of difference because gravity and all. Plus, she and her sister are pretty big even by mermaids’ standards… so she is inconvenienced sometimes, but not too much. For the most part she doesn’t care. Her boobs do bother her when she is hiking though, she can't help but feel it would be much easier to walk, climb and even wear her backpack if she had boobs that are somewhat smaller than her enormous ones.

Floyd – she is way more inconvenienced than Jade, and the only one in the Octa-trio who actually complains about her boobs enough to ask for Azul to make a potion to make them smaller. But then she changes her mind and decides against it. She is very active, and she hates bras, so her boobs either bounce around too strongly or jump out of her shirt, and both are kind of bad. For the most part because everyone is acting so weird about it… it’s their problem though, not Floyd’s.

Kalim – happy girl, not a care in the world. She is also on a bigger side (similar to Azul), and it never really concerned her in any way. Of course it bounces a lot when she dances, but it’s like she isn’t even aware of that or really doesn’t care. She is pretty comfortable in her own skin!

Jamil – she is also perfectly fine, actually. When she was younger, she was kind of annoyed with Kalim’s boobs suddenly growing bigger when hers were much smaller, but she doesn’t care anymore; having smaller ones is more convenient anyways.

Vil – pretty comfortable, doesn’t really have any insecurities about it: she finds her small breasts aesthetically pleasing, plus it really works with her overall androgynous aesthetics. There are some clothes and looks she’d like to wear that are better for big-chested girls though, but it’s okay, even if it doesn’t look good on her, she knows someone who would look good wearing it.

Rook – she used to be very disconnected with her big boobs when she was younger because it actually caused a lot of discomfort to her during her hunts; she used to tie them up with bandages or pieces of cloth; she remembers being jealous of her brothers because they could run around the jungle topless and she couldn’t. But that was before; she is very comfortable with herself now and actually has a lot of appreciation of her breasts: Vil helped her to pick up proper underwear and support for them, and helped her a lot in general.

Epel – she hates her boobs, even though they aren’t even that big, but that’s already too big for her. Plus, they’re kind of round and perky, and she always feels like everyone’s looking at them (they’re not, no one’s looking). She is jealous of Ruggie…

Idia – for the most part she is very pleased with being one of the flattest girls in cast. There are so many headaches related to boobs, and she feels like she is excused from that annoying conversation entirely. She finds some comfort in deciding pretty early on in her life that she would never be busty and sexy and desirable (as if any of that has anything to do with having big boobs). Sometimes she thinks about what it would be like to have bigger boobs, but stops herself from thinking about it.

Ortho – ironically I think AI!Ortho would care about it more than real!Ortho. Real!Ortho is a little bit bigger than Idia, but she is pretty tomboyish and doesn’t really care about boobs at all (only other people’s boobs…). AI!Ortho, however, feels like this isn’t fair sometimes, and acts like a capricious child that wants something she isn’t really supposed to have. But overall, she just wants to be cute, so…

Lilia – the proudest flat girl in the world. Even more proud and even more flat than Idia lol Yeah there was never a moment in her life when she doubted herself because of that, even when she was mistaken for a boy. She has unshakable confidence and love for herself.

Silver – there are times when her boobs are in the way, but as long as she wears a proper bra or ties them up, it’s not an issue. She used to be a little concerned when she noticed that her boobs are growing (because Sebek’s didn’t start growing yet, and Lilia is completely flat), but that moment of panic was pretty short. She isn’t super big, but a bit bigger than Ace and Deuce, and she is pretty okay in her own skin.

Sebek – she is somewhat inconvenienced, and she also ties everything up when she’s training, but she also learned to live with her big boobs. She never felt like getting rid of them or never wanted to have them smaller; she is actually kind of proud of herself even though it is a pain in the ass to do everything that she does to keep them both healthy and not in the way of her activities. Horse-riding is especially difficult to her though, the bounce is too much sometimes.

Malleus – even though she is inconvenienced with how big and heavy they are, and with how much extra attention she needs sometimes because of them, she is pleased with her boobs in the same ways he is pleased with her horns, wings and tail – all of it is an indication of her being a Draconia. But also, when she gets tired of her big ones, she could just temporarily make them into smaller ones with magic! Just like she does with her tail and wings.

[carto0ncritter]

seriously? Now you're just hating on Vivziepop for no reason! Hear me out! Stolitz is very very Very complex and deep. If you actually watched the show you would realize that Stolas and Blitz's relationship has a lot of complicated emotions and there's so many stories and arcs that stitch this beautiful relationship together. Their relationship has literally everything to you could ever ask for. It has the drama, action, tender moments, a rollercoaster of complexity to tug on the hearts of fans and queer folks, tension between them to add more flavor that adds so much to the shows plots. We love stolitz because of how deep their relationship is and their merch tells us and even deeper story and everything about their relationship is just perfect. You just don't understand vivs vision of her amazing queer writing. Viv put her heart and soul into her characters each telling their own stories even the women. Some are more complex than others with bigger roles but it's perfect just the way it is!!! As for Loona, Loona is literally the most well developed female character in the show and unlike people like you that don't watch the show you would realize that Loona isn't abusive, she can be seen being one of the sweetest and toughest girls in the show. Hello? She comforted Octavia, comforted blitz and drove him home, got him water, called him dad TWICE, she loves her father, she's a good sister to Octavia, she is literally the funniest girl in the show and all her jokes land! Maybe you just don't understand her humor?? Maybe you're just boring??? her backstory is very complex and filled with lots of mystery and filled to the brim with everything we need to know about her. We don't need to see everything because the information given was already there when she was at the pound. It's very emotional being in her position even scary. Maybe instead of hating so much without evidence then maybe you should go back and watch the show again??? Loona, blitzo, and Stolas are very well rounded characters and are not toxic. Side note the post about the plushies? Loona does not look fxcked up her face is perfect, her plush is her best looking yet so far! and stolitz are adorable together maybe your just mad you can't afford to buy merch of the greatest written Vivziepop characters in the show???

Viv, that you?

[bullet-prooflove]

Sam Carver + wallet camera and coffee 🫶

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mckinleysbones @wnbweasley @saturnsdevilz @star017

Companion piece to:

The Evidence Locker - Sam realises his feelings for you might be reciprocated.

Scars - Sam thinks his emotional scars are too much for you.

Playing For Keeps - Sam regrets what he said about your first night together.

Your relationship with Sam is discovered because he forgets his wallet. He’d been running late to his shift because you’d gotten a little mischievous in the shower that morning and left it sitting on your nightstand. It isn’t until he’s sitting in the breakroom with Cruz, sipping from his coffee cup, that he realises he left it behind. He shoots you a text before he tells Cruz he’s left something in his car and heads out to grab it.

You’re waiting for him when he steps out into the cool air, leaning against his truck in your CFD jacket and white shirt, the gold Lieutenant’s pin glinting in the sun. You look so pretty in the morning light, the chilly weather brings a rosy hue to your cheeks and in that moment Sam realises just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

“I must have fucked you a little too good if you’re getting his forgetful.” You tease him, holding up the brown leather wallet between two fingers.

He laughs as he claims it, tucking it into the pocket of his CFD fleece.

“Maybe.” He concedes as he places his firm hands on your hips, his mouth brushing over yours with a tenderness he reserves for no other woman. “Or maybe it was the thought is ravishing you again that had me losing my mind.”

“You’re a bad boy.” You tease, swatting his ass as he walks away.

It isn’t until he’s heading back into the fire station that he realises he’s being watched. He glances up to the tower where the callouts come in and sees Ritter standing there looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

And that’s when Sam remembers the security camera, the one that overlooks the street because there was some vandalism a little while back…

Fuck, he guesses he has some explaining to do.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[your-phantomfield]

KINK EVENT = Hand Holding, Missionary

Women's Side Men's Side

NOEL = VERMILLION ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

A true romantic, this is one of Noel’s preferred positions. It’s the tenderness, the love; Noel so longs to be genuinely wanted, and this position promises that she is. It may be embarrassing, to have you looking at her like this, but the way you hold her hand assures her that she’s safe. That you want this. That you want her.

Chest to chest, she feels like her heartbeat might synchronize with yours. It’s everything she could ever dream of, poet and artist that she is. And somewhere deep in her coding, it scratches some kind of itch to ‘merge’ and ‘become one’ with another, something left over from the true intent behind her creation.

Not that she’d ever bother to analyze the instinct that deeply. To her, this is just about loving you, and cherishing what you share.

RACHEL = ALUCARD ☆ ☆ ☆

Now this isn’t Rachel’s favorite position. In fact, it’s not one she’s going to want to do often- she’s very interested in positions that are less reciprocal, more focused on her holding a position of power, and this level of intimacy isn’t something she can always handle.

But Rachel Alucard loves with so much more tenderness than she ever readily admits. Especially after her centuries of isolation and despair, expressions of pure, tender, steady love can mean the world to her. It may be the only time you ever see her act shy- averting her eyes, blushing, for once without any snappy commentary.

Don’t overuse this position, but trust that in your most intimate moments, she truly loves it.

TSUBAKI = YAYOI ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

This surely shouldn’t surprise anyone. The isolated princess of the Duodecim has always dreamed of enjoying the kind of deep, pure love spoken of in the books she reads and the dramas she watches. Something romantic, artistic, perfect, a shared moment between her and her soulmate.

It’s about the trust, the closeness, the dedication. If Tsubaki is having sex with you, she intends to spend her whole life with you, and she wants every loving moment you share to express her dedication.

Additionally, she can actually be a little shy about expressing these sorts of feelings; this kind of position keeps you close but also hides a lot of her body. She can stabilize her nerves by focusing on the way you’re holding her, able to view this as something shared, rather than her being on display.

SHIORI = KIRIHITO ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Let’s be upfront; Shiori Kirihito is a little horndog. Any position where she’s able to see you at all is one she’s gonna enjoy. She actually gravitates more to positions where she’s worshiping you in some way, rather than looking right at you.

Which is why this position is so impactful for her. She’s never going to initiate it- how could she even dare? All her life, she’s never had the right to be anyone’s equal. You already shower her with so much more love than this servant, this tool could have ever deserved. She’s meant to be used, after all, and even in the way she loves you, she’s trying to be useful to you.

So hold her hands and face her head-on. Ask her to stop servicing you for a moment. To just lie with you and understand how much you love her.