#thank you for being here. for being in this space with me

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[star2fishmeg]

CONGRATS ON 1K 🥳

Could I request Quinn Hughes helping reader through a stress breakdown + #13?

Thank you for requesting <3

FLUFF #13 "You came." "You called."

📞 dialling…

Quinn had never gripped his steering wheel harder in his life. Never had been so impatient and desperate to get back to his apartment before. He’d never burst through the front door, dumping his bags and almost tripping through his hallway like he had after he saw the notification back in the rink’s locker room. The second he opened his phone after practice and saw her name on the ‘missed call’ notification, his stomach dropped drastically, and all clothing and equipment was shoved into his bag without much care.

Following the sniffling, he peered into his living room, slowly and quietly stepping closer to y/n curled up on his sofa, as if she were trying to melt into the back cushions from how tight she had pressed herself against them, like she was trying to get as far away from her laptop that sat on his table behind her and curl up into a ball. He thought for a second that the way she had positioned herself, she didn’t want to look at the device she usually would be working from when he got home, her eyes red and wide, wet with glistening cheeks, choked sobs falling from her chest staggered.

Taking a seat next her, lips pulled into a compassionate frown, Quinn wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her onto his lap and holding her to his chest, “Sshh, I’m here, darling, I’ve got you.”

For some reason, one she could not explain, she cried harder, a lump in her throat that was cured by wails and uncontrollable tears as she melted into his hold, tucking her head into his collarbone and letting his voice and hands sooth her. His heart ached, a sting in his chest as her hand clutched his hoodie.  

After allowing herself to fall into vulnerability, safe in his warmth, y/n sniffed, eyes bleary and grip on his hoodie loosening. Quinn’s hands remained soft, caressing over her back and placing gentle kisses to her head. 

“You came?” she croaked, voice only loud in the silence of the apartment. 

His hold tightened, wiping her cheek with his thumb and gazing softly into her eyes, “You called, why wouldn’t I come?” 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I…I know not to call when you…you’re at practice but, but-” the words seemed to blurt out into breathless sobs, the kind that had her ugly crying where strings of saliva coated her lips, and she sniffed every few seconds to spare the embarrassment of getting mucus all over him. 

���No, no. It’s okay, you can call me whenever you need.” He cooed, leaning back into the cushions. 

He didn’t need to ask what she meant; they’d been together so long he just knew. She would never call him during practice unless it was an emergency. Not that he’d pick up until he’d re-enter the locker room, but y/n had a stone pride, a fear of asking for help and case of responsibility she felt obliged to even when she wasn’t. Being a hard-worker and carrying a weight were two different things and she couldn’t tell the difference, which led to situations like Quinn had walked in on. Y/n wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t out of desperation and the only time she ever called was when the weight of her stress crushed her into a mental and emotional collapse.

The sobbing gradually dulled into sniffing, y/n staring into space while he stroked her hair, “Do you wanna talk about it? Or I can run a bath with the candles? Or we can just cuddle and watch something?” 

She didn’t ask a lot from him. Just to be held when she needed him the most and to let her hold him. And that intimacy was enough for her heart to slow into a peaceful rhythm.

“It’s too much, Quinn.” Her voice was strained, cheeks hot from her outburst. Yet, he didn’t know how long she’d been crying and panicking for until she called, and that pained him the most. “There’s so much work to do and so little time, but if I don’t do it, I’ll let everyone down and they’ll hate me and I’ll lose my job and-”

“-and you don’t have to do it alone. Why don’t we take a bath, cuddle on the couch and we can talk it through?” 

She’d never met a gentler man in her life. She’d seen him tussle on the ice, throw a punch or two but that never made it outside the rink. He never raised his voice, never left any argument unresolved and his voice was always softer with her, whether he knew it or not. His arms, his warm and inviting arms paired with him knowing exactly what she needed without her saying a word broke away the distress chip by chip.

Shaking her head wearily, her lip quivered, “No, Q, you don’t have to go through all that, I can handle it, I swear. You’ve got your own things, I’m just overreacting, I’m fine, it’s fine. Yeah.”

“Y/n, look at me.” Quinn pulled her away from his chest, hand cupping her cheek and bringing her head to look him in his eyes. “Breathe. You’re not going to do this alone. I’m here for you and I love you, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel better, okay?”

She nodded, his thumb wiping away any excess tears. She swallowed the lump in her throat, breathing in for five seconds and exhaling for another five, just as Quinn taught her. Soft lips pressed to her temple, and she gave a small smile, leaning against his chest once again.

[puckinghischier]

Nico looking stressed, grumpy and pissed off lately. He would def take out all that on reader if they gave him permission to do so. God he would become a whole different person in bed 😵‍💫🫠

“just say the word, and i promise it all stops. it all starts and ends with you,” he’d check just one more time you’re sure, almost feeling guilty for what he’s about to do.

“swear on my life, neeks. give me everything you’ve got. please,” you whine and squirm, his outburst on the ice earlier planting a seed in your brain only he can grow.

his eyes darken, your pleas all he needs to spur him on, slamming into you so hard you see stars, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure.

he gives you no warnings, no recovery, just slamming into you over and over again, every ounce of anger he felt on the ice being transferred to your body.

your body jolts with each thrust, thankful the two of you won the argument for a plush headboard in this exact moment. his grunts are animalistic and guttural, never having heard sounds like this from him before. they make your body melt into his even more, not having enough brain power to think about the implications of why this is all so hot for you.

“swear, just can’t get them to do anything right. s’like trying to teach monkeys how to play hockey,” he grunts, using the physical outlet to purge the mental frustrations as well. “s’like i’m the only one on that ice that gives a shit about anything. they won’t shoot, won’t block, aren’t there for passes. a bunch of idiotic fucks.”

you would respond, but the moment you open your mouth, his fingers immediately fill the space. you swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking lightly. the action earns a particularly deep groan, throwing his head back like it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever experienced.

“don’t wanna hear anything other than my name from these pretty little lips, got it?” his eyes bore down onto yours, waiting for your small nod of agreement. “if i can’t get the performance from the guys i want, you’re gonna give me the performance i want in here.”

his command wasn’t even that harsh or demanding, but you’ll be damned if it didn’t make your eyes nearly roll back into your head. when he slips his fingers from your mouth his names becomes the only word in your vocabulary. repeated over and over and over again, never stopping.

you can feel his grip on your hips tighten, making you wonder how many purple splotches you’ll be able to count tomorrow morning. his thrusts get more aggressive as your whines of his name get louder and louder, teetering on the edge of pathetic, but you don’t care.

he thrusts into you the harshest and deepest he has yet, and it causes your body to erupt into the most intense bliss you’ve ever felt, feeling nico’s own body still and his deep voice cry out a loud “FUCK!”

you convulse and shake beneath him, wondering when the waves of pleasure are gonna stop. nico’s still hovered above you, blinking his eyes in a daze.

he pulls his softening dick out of you, a whimper escaping your still shaking body. the waves of pleasure are still subsiding when he climbs off the bed, returning a few seconds later with a warm washcloth and a fresh pair of boxers on.

when he goes to clean you up, you whine and whimper at how sensitive you are, nico’s soft ‘shhhs’ not doing much to calm you.

he crawls into bed beside of you, lifting the bed sheet to cover your bare body, pulling you against him.

“y’alright, sweet girl?” nico whispers as he nudges his nose into your neck, back to his sweet and attentive self. you hum back a “mhmmm,” nestling into his warm body.

you can feel him smirk into your skin, his rumbling voice causing goosebumps to rise. “didn’t realize y’liked when i’m so rough. maybe we should explore this more often.”

the thought brings another whine from your throat, wanting to roll over away from him, but you’re trapped in his arms, any kind of movement impossible.

“god, let a girl recover a bit, yeah? think my vagina is gonna fall off if you put those images in my head right now.”

nico erupts in full on belly laughter, amused at this new discovery. “well not right now, no. just…gonna keep it in mind anytime i try to tell myself not to get too worked up during a game. might…slip and let a hit or two through if i know this is what i have waiting on me when i get home.”

and when he see’s the hand sized bruises on your hips the next day, rushing out apologies and peppering kisses over the purple skin, you assure him you’re fine, seeing the small glint in his eyes at the physical reminder of last night, you know that his penalty minutes are about to sky rocket.

[reiding-writing]

hello! i LOVE your cold reader series so very much, would you be open to writing kind of the opposite? where instead of being like winter, reader is autumn incarnate? cozy and sweet with kind words for everyone, quiet and bookish but not in a standoffish way… thank you in advance! i just adore all of your writing 🫶✨

AUTUMN BREEZE — SPENCER REID!

your coworker’s would describe you like an autumn breeze, calm, cool, and comforting.

spencer reid x fem!reader | 1.0k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — meet cold!reader’s… autumnal sister? idk i really love this premise it’s so cute

You step into the bullpen, a bundle of warmth in knitwear and wide-leg slacks, a soft rustling that reminds you of leaves skittering across a pavement in autumn. It's a sound you've always loved—crisp, comforting, familiar.

You carry it with you, like the golden hues of October, brushing against everyone in the office without even trying.

There’s an energy here that contrasts sharply with your calm: the hurried clicks of keyboards, the rustle of files, the undercurrent of murmured conversations.

But you bring something softer, something like the warm light that filters through the trees on a crisp morning.

Your mug of tea—sweetened with a touch of honey, as always—rests in your hands. The scent drifts upward, a subtle comfort that follows the rhythm of your movements. When you pass Spencer’s desk, he looks up from a thick stack of case files. His face is pale from long hours, his tie slightly askew. You can’t help but smile.

“Hey, Spencer,” you call softly, your voice low and warm, the sound steeped in honeyed affection.

He startles slightly, his grip faltering on the stack of files. “Oh, hey,” he stammers, adjusting quickly. “Good morning,”

“Morning,” You back track a few steps and turn toward him, your hand instinctively resting on his elbow to steady him. The wool of his blazer is coarse beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the softness of your sweater. “Let me help?”

“Oh, uh, no—” Spencer starts to protest, but you’re already taking half the stack, leaving him blinking in surprise.

“What would you do without me, hm?” you tease gently, your smile widening as you step toward his desk, files tucked safely under your arm.

From behind, you hear Morgan’s voice break through the bullpen chatter, a teasing lilt in his tone. “Careful, Reid. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,”

You roll your eyes but don’t miss the faint flush that creeps up Spencer’s neck. You’re used to Morgan’s ribbing, just as you’re used to Spencer’s shy reactions to it. “He’d probably drop these all over the floor if I weren’t here,” you say over your shoulder, earning a laugh from Emily and JJ.

Spencer’s face flushes deeper, but his lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “I, uh, probably would,” he admits, his voice quiet.

You take a moment to dump your half of the pile onto your desk before retreating back to him, and you take a moment to brush an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. He glances down at your hand, his expression unreadable, but you don’t notice.

Your touch is always gentle, always brief—a steadying hand on a shoulder, a playful nudge, the faintest of brushes against his wrist. It’s second nature to you, an extension of the warmth you try to bring into the world.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long.

“You’re welcome,” you say simply, your expression softer than any silk pillow Spencer could imagine laying upon. “Now, let me guess—this is all reading material for the case?”

Spencer nods, launching into an explanation about geographical profiling and its application to their latest unsub. You listen intently, leaning against the edge of his desk, your arms crossed loosely.

The bullpen noise fades to a dull hum in the background as his voice fills the space between you. It’s one of your favorite things about Spencer—how his passion lights up the room, even in the smallest ways.

The comfortable silence that follows his explanation feels important—the kind of stillness that carries the faintest echo of sound, a reminder of something fleeting and beautiful. You let it settle, neither of you rushing to fill the space.

“You’re always so calm,” Spencer says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence but not the tranquility. His gaze is thoughtful, as though he’s been turning the words over in his mind before saying them out loud. “Even when things are hectic,”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment before replying. “I think it’s because I try to see the good in things. In people. It helps me feel grounded.”

Spencer’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile. “It suits you,”

Before you can respond, Morgan’s voice cuts through the moment again. “Reid, you planning to finish signing those reports or just whisper sweet nothings into her ear all day?”

The bullpen erupts in laughter, and Spencer immediately ducks his head, muttering something unintelligible. You laugh softly, a sound that seems to relax him just a little.

“Don’t worry, Spencer,” you say, your voice light but sincere. “I’ll defend your honour, promise,”

“Seriously?” Derek teases from across the room, leaning back in his chair. There’s a grin tugging at his lips, but it’s warm, harmless. “Do you ever stop radiating comfort?”

“Can’t help it,” you say with a shrug, meeting his teasing tone with an easy smile. “Someone’s gotta balance out all the brooding around here.” You glance meaningfully at Hotch’s office, and Derek chuckles.

Spencer’s lips twitch, but he hides his smile behind the stack of papers he’s pretending to read.

[14dayswithyou]

I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—

This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;

I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.

Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.

And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3

So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.

I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...

Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.

From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.

I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos

[nmr0709]

Night of Secrecy

I actually started playing the game because of this wonderful person's edits of social media and finally caved.

This memory was NOT what I initially expected of Sylus tbh. Given the way he's portrayed popularly in media , I was very pleased with this memory. ( Also first major kiss card counts, Abyssal Blossom was a teaser)

First off, the relationship between mc and Sylus has improved. Vastly compared to their initial response to each other- Major improvement and mutual respect and care for each other. Kudos!

This memory has such sweet tones- from the start- the domesticity and trust of mc to have Sylus use her apartment as a safe space. Like fr goals man

( and Sylus doens't trust anybody easily- cue to Luke and Keirans's backstory)

And Canon Sylus bumping into doors as he's too tall. Him accepting her place and adjusting to his best to a more sedate lifestyle to match hers? Beautiful.

Bonus him showering and using all her bodywash

like man. We love you but plss

Their constant banter is also something that has become they feel like they've been togather for years ngl

Cue him picking her up from work, giving her a scare for being recognised, and then heading to a supermarket. So so so househusband coded.

Mc being very well versed in how to handle him and prepare for his eventually leaving and sneakily find out how she could join him? Absolutely. No doubts he'd do the same as well.

Sylus is an absolute sweetheart and green flag. Like

my man. I will die for you in every way possible.

He always always puts her first. No matter what.

He embodies absolute devotion and worship in a way thats difficult at first glance but

look at his eyes and tell me he's not lying.

The kind of love where he'll sacrifice everything-even himself- for your sake.

Consent king. Care king. Comfort king.

Him being absolutely feral with the extent of his passion and love. But still gentle enough?

The hands. The arms. The kisses. The bites. The caresses. His blush.

Tell me he'll love so thoroughly that there'll be no doubt at all at the end of it.

And the fact that they can resonate( finally) at will without any issues? That mc actually reciprocates his intertwined palm? Gorgeous.

I canon he has a major hand kink and perhaps sensory deprivation.

Sylus also checks thrice for consent. Here's a man ready to do anything for you and your convenience. Don't like it? Dropped without even a second thought.

Bonus?

The both of them just getting back into their mission mode against Ever and him not being surprised she figured out his mission and played with him. And decided to join him at the last minute.

Mr and Mrs Smith vibes anyone?

The end note?

Hella sweet and spicy memory. Absolutely beautiful and just right. Really glad to see the progression of the relationship from hatred to trust to love.

Thanks for joining my rant about this hunk of a man who I would absolutely drop everything for.

[alexusonfire]

Songbird in Iowa

Robyn (The Roommate) x Fem!Reader

A/n: @end0r4 chose Robyn for One-Night Stand and then I couldn't stop thinking about it. Huge shout-out to @daydream-cement for the confidence boost 🧡 Enjoy some smut y'all!

The walls of Studio 13 thrummed with music, its patrons oblivious to the sheet of rain pounding the streets outside. It had been a miserable drive here, the Uber getting lost twice before finally pulling up to the front lot. After waiting in line for nearly thirty minutes (cold, with slightly damp feet), your party had finally been granted access.

A couple hours passed, and you found yourself sitting at the side bar, nursing your third drink of the night. You weren't one to venture out this way often, the club scene not really yours. A friend of a friend had invited (then promptly abandoned) you, and the rest of the gang had dispersed quite some time ago. After yet another woman made a low-ball drunken pass at you, you considered heading out, the idea of sprawling on your couch with some popcorn and a scary movie sounding much more your vibe.

"Gin, on the rocks.”

The tone caught your ear; sharp, commanding. You peeked over your near-empty glass at the 60-something woman who'd sat next to you; her shaggy mullet and leather jacket implied she was from out of town, which only attracted you further. The bartender plopped the drink in front of her, and she thanked him with a few coins in the tip jar before taking a sip. Feeling eyes on her, she turned to meet your gaze; after giving you a once-over, the smirk on her face indicated she liked what she saw.

“What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

“Whiskey sour.”

She signalled again to the bartender, who swiftly made you another drink. She passed it over to you, then raised her own in cheers.

“So…” you began after a smooth swallow, one the elder woman followed with her eyes, “what brings you out on a dreary Friday night?”

“New to the area, figured I'd see what it was all about.” She turned to face you, her knee bumping against yours. Neither of you moved to correct it.

“Where you coming from?”

“New York. The Bronx, specifically.”

“Mmm, big city girl. What brings you to lil old Iowa?” you asked with a tilt of your head.

The woman clicked her tongue and smiled. Her hand slid forward to meet yours, intertwining your fingers on the wooden bartop.

“New adventures. New people. New… conquests.”

You bit your lip, endearing the woman to you. She reached forward and gently pulled it out, chuckling when you playfully nipped at her thumb. You downed the rest of your drink, she following your lead, before she leaned forward to crowd into your space.

“Wanna get the fuck outta here?” she asked, her voice deep and sultry.

“Yes.”

The tab was paid and you were promptly pulled off your seat. She waved down a cab and gave the driver her address, never once letting go of your hand. Not one for public displays, you waited until you reached her front door to push her up against it and kiss her soundly. She welcomed your tongue in her mouth, much to your delight, while her hands skittered up under your shirt, the heated skin warming them from the cold.

“You gonna let me get you inside or do you plan on fucking me on the front porch?” she drawled, her arms still wrapped around you.

“Well if you're into a bit of exhibitionism…”

She chuckled and pulled back, somehow managing to unlock the door while you licked and kissed at her neck from behind. Stumbling in less than gracefully, she shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“Gotta be quiet, my roommate's a real stiff.”

You giggled in response and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before kicking off your shoes. Heart racing with anticipation, she led you up the stairs, turning left into her darkened bedroom. Shuffling sounds came from your right, then the hiss of a match being lit. The soft glow of candles began to illuminate the walls, and you watched as she moved from her dresser to her bedside table, lighting the final one before blowing out the flame.

“Romantic.” you mused, beginning to unbutton your shirt.

“I know how to woo a woman.” she replied “and that's my job, thank you very much.”

She bat your hands away and continued snapping open the buttons, leaving open-mouthed kisses to the newly bared skin. Humming in appreciation, you tangled your fingers in her messy hair, massaging her scalp as her teeth scraped against your breast. You went to ask her something, then paused as a realization hit you. Laughter bubbled in your chest, and she looked up at you quizzically when you snorted.

“What?” she asked, her hands poised to remove your bra.

“I don't know your name.”

She stared at you for a moment, then burst out wheeze-laughing. You snickered along with her, trying to keep your voices down as best you could.

“I… I suppose that would be a good thing to know.” she chuckled. “I'm Robyn.”

“Oh, like the songbird. Pretty.”

Robyn blushed, not quite used to receiving compliments. Eyeing the small flame of red on her cheeks, you used her momentary distraction to your advantage. Slowly, piece by piece, you began to remove her clothing; first the jacket, then her shirt. The clink of her belt buckle felt a bit too loud in the silence, especially as it hit the floor.

She was a voluptuous woman, curvy and soft, and it made your mouth water.

She grumbled something about wanting to get you undressed, starting to fumble with the clips on your back before finally managing to pull the bra away from you. Now it was your turn to blush as she admired you for a moment, her knuckles lightly caressing the side of your chest.

Unwilling to wait any longer, you pushed her down onto the mattress, then sunk to your knees in front of her. Nudging her legs open, you placed a soft kiss to her inner knee before smiling up at her.

“Sing for me, won't you?”

Your eyes remained locked on hers while your fingers traced the band of her underwear. She nodded her silent permission, lifting her hips so you could slide the garment from her. Her glistening curls sent heat through your veins; eager to please, you wasted no time in burying your tongue between her folds. Robyn moaned, threading her fingers through your hair to bring you closer. She rocked her hips into your mouth, so warm and inviting, her head thrown back as you explored her. Paying careful attention to each sound, you licked and sucked where she seemed to like best, your nose occasionally pressing against her clit making her throb with want.

“There, just like that… oh such a good girl…”

Heart fluttering, you finally laved your tongue over her clit, eliciting a pitched squeal. It didn't take much longer until her thighs clenched in tune with a final yelp, and she soaked the bottom half of your face. You lapped up everything you could, greedily licking her clean as she came down from her high. Gingerly, she pulled your head back, tilting it up so you'd face her; your chin shined with her release, lips tilted up in a lazy smile as she caressed your cheek.

“You have a stunning singing voice by the way. I wouldn't mind another performance…” you said, your voice low and hungry. Robyn chuckled breathlessly and pulled you into a kiss, a thrill running up her spine at the taste of herself on your mouth.

“You first, sweetheart.”

She tugged you up and made quick work of the rest of your clothing, then pressed her palm on your lower back to bring you down to her lap. Thighs settled on either side of hers, she rolled your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, carefully watching your face for a reaction. Pleased to see you enjoyed it, she promptly brought her tongue down on the other one, switching back and forth between the two until you wiggled from overstimulation.

You were wet, and she could feel it drip down onto the crease of her thigh.

Satisfied with how worked up she'd gotten you, she removed the rings from her fore and middle fingers, then slipped them into you one by one. She gave you a moment to adjust to the stretch before slowly pumping them in and out of you, your little whimpers spurring her on.

“C'mon baby, ride em for me.” she whispered, using her other hand to encourage the rocking motion. You pressed your mouth to hers in a searing kiss as you picked up the pace, clinging to her shoulders for support while you ground down on her over and over again. She could tell you were close by your stuttered movements, and all it took was her thumb brushing your clit to toss you over the edge.

Robyn couldn't bring it in herself to care about her new roommate as you came with a loud cry; the vision of a woman satisfied in her lap was her favorite thing in the world, and she'd be damned if a potential scolding would get in the way of that. She brought her fingers to your mouth and watched intently as you swallowed them to lick them clean, your hazy eyes and soft moans riling her up once more.

“I'll get us some water, then you best be prepared for my second act.”

--

Hours later, you flopped back onto the pillows, panting, sated. Robyn lay beside you, stroking your hair and giving you what you'd come to find to be her signature smirk. She closed her eyes as she waited for your breathing to even out, her hands running over still-trembling muscles. You weren't sure how long you both lay there, silent, simply content to be in each other's presence.

Once your heart rate had finally settled and you assumed Robyn to be asleep, you shuffled backwards and made to slip from the bed, surprised when you felt warm fingers wrap around your wrist.

“You got somewhere to be?” She asked, her one eye popped open.

“Uhm… not really no. Besides my own bed.”

“Well then, get back in here. No point in sending you out to the cold. Might even have you for breakfast in the morning.”

Chuffed, you crawled back into her waiting arms and tucked yourself under her chin.

“Mmm, you really do know how to woo a woman.”

Robyn simply gave you a small squish, then let the exhaustion settle in. She was fully asleep within minutes, you following not far behind.

--

Early morning sun settled on your face, blinking you awake. Robyn's steady breathing sounded from beside you, nearly lulling you back under before you begrudgingly slipped from beneath the covers. Near-silent, you gathered your haphazardly thrown clothing and re-dressed, taking one last look at Robyn and her wild hair before leaving the room. Tip-toeing your way down the stairs, you almost congratulated yourself on a ghosting-well-done… that is, until you noticed the pale, doe-eyed woman in the kitchen.

“Oh… um… hello.” you said, giving her an awkward little wave.

The woman simply stared at you, half-hiding her face behind her mug.

“You must be a friend of Robyn's.” The woman finally replied.

You had to admit, when Robyn had referred to her roommate as a “stiff”, you had expected someone a bit more… overbearing perhaps, even rude. This woman seemed as timid as they came, if her inability to maintain eye contact was any indication.

“Ah, not really. More so… acquaintances. I was just leaving.”

Awkward silence hung in the air, the pale woman seeming to have nothing to respond with. You inched your way to the front door, stuffed your shoes on, and left without another word.

--

“At a bar? Isn't that dangerous bringing a stranger home?”

Robyn sighed, worried she may have actually crossed a boundary with Sharon by bringing someone home in the indecent hours.

“Look, I wasn't planning on it, she was just… anyways. I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable with it, I should have spoken to you about it first.”

“Oh well… don't worry about it.” Sharon waved it off, sipping at her second coffee that morning, “if it was a man I might be more worried, but a woman is… well. A woman.”

Robyn quirked her brow at Sharon's odd giggle, but let it slide, relieved she wasn't about to be kicked out.

“When do you see her again?”

“Um. I don't think I will.”

Sharon looked confused, something Robyn found highly amusing.

“Did you get her phone number?”

“No.”

“Her address?”

“Definitely not.”

“... an email?”

“Sharon, it’s not the nineties anymore.”

“Well this all seems silly… you sure sounded like you liked each other.” (Robyn sputtered in her coffee) “Maybe you should go again next weekend and see if she's there. I could always stay at Tanya's house for the night.”

Robyn sighed, but when she thought of your lilting smile and wicked tongue, she couldn't help but ponder the idea.

“Maybe… Maybe I will.”

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, toxic relationship, arguing

I woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. My eyes flickered open, it took me a minute to realise that I wasn’t in my room. Then it hit me, I was in Matt’s bed.

My heart sank, I sat up quickly, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling a weird mix of comfort and awkwardness. Why did it feel so nice to be here?

I didn’t ponder on the thought for too long. Pushing myself up, I walked out of Matt’s bedroom. I sauntered into the living area, and there he was, sprawled on the couch, one arm resting lazily over the back of the couch, the other holding his phone. His eyes looked up as soon as he heard me approach.

“How are you feeling now?” he said, his voice low 

I stalled for a moment, still caught between the fog of sleep and the awkwardness of the situation. “Better..” I admitted.  “Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed.”

He shrugged, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips. “No problem. You needed the rest.”

The atmosphere in the room felt.. odd. Not in a bad way, just unfamiliar. Too nice. The kind of nice that would make you second guess everything. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to shake the feeling.

“I should go grab my sketch pad” I said quickly, breaking the silence. “I need to finish off some designs.”

Matt nodded, his expression unreadable as he watched me. 

I gave him a quick side smile before turning and heading up the stairs to my room. I flicked on the lights and my gaze shifted almost immediately to the corner of my room. A white AC cooler now plugged in, keeping the room at a perfect temperature. My eyes then fell to my bed. Sitting on top of the neatly made covers was an eye mask and a pair of earplugs, placed carefully as if someone had intentionally left them there.

I stood there in slight shock. “Did Matt do all this?” I muttered to myself, picking up the eye mask and turning it over in my hands.

Maybe this was Matt waving a white flag. A quiet, small gesture of goodwill to make things easier between us. Maybe it would actually be easy to live here now. It was almost like a weight lifted off my shoulders, cutting through the animosity between us. I should go thank him,

Eye mask still in hand, I turned to make my way back downstairs. But just as I reached the door, the sound of voices carried up the staircase. Chris and Nick were back from their day of meetings.

“I genuinely should be your Director forever” Chris’s voice was loud and triumphant, with a bit of arrogance. “I would make such an impact working at Space Camp!”

Nick laughed, his tone sarcastic. “You took a few photos, Chris. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

I hesitated in the doorway, before walking down the stairs, all four of us now gathered in the living area, but I felt a shift in the atmosphere again. Matt immediately returned to his usual cold demeanor. He shot me an arrogant look. "Look who's finally out of bed"

I raised an eyebrow, questioning why he’d say that, especially since he knew how I was feeling, how he went out of his way, in multiple forms to try fix it. It felt petty.

Chris tilted his head, curious. "Did you sleep all day?"

I shook my head, brushing off Matt’s comment. "No, just a nap. I had a migraine earlier" I explained. "But I’ve nearly finished my sketches for the patches." I added, eager to prove myself.

"Nice!" Chris said with an approving nod. "Can you show me them?"

Nick flopped onto the couch beside Matt, giving me a quick smile. “Of course she nearly has them done, it's like witchcraft how she gets things done so fast.”

I smiled back faintly, trying to settle into the group dynamic, though Matt’s comment still lingered in the back of my mind. It was a reminder that even with small moments of truce, things could snap back to how they were in an instant.

’Yeah let me go grab them” I agree.

Before I can leave, Chris’ phone buzzes, the vibration loud enough to catch both of our attention. The screen lights up with a name: Nate.

Chris grins, already reaching for it. “Hold that thought. Nate’s calling. I gotta answer this first.” Without waiting for a response, he picks up and disappears toward the bathroom for privacy, leaving the rest of us in the room.

I wander upstairs ti grab my sketch pad, not wanting to sit in the awkwardness with Matt. I step over the AC cooler, carefully avoiding the tangle of wires on the floor, and grab the sketch pad from my desk. My hand lingers for a moment over the cover, my mind racing with everything I still need to finish. 

By the time I make it back downstairs, Chris has come back from the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear. His energy is even higher than it was before, showing a stark contrast to the tension that’s settled between Matt and I. Again.

“So, Nate’s in.” he says, sliding his phone into his pocket. 

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Nate” Chris repeats, his grin widening. “Nick and I called him earlier and convinced him to come to Hawaii with us. He’s flying into LA tomorrow morning since there’s no other available flights, told him he could stay here while we’re in Vegas.”

“Wait, Nate’s coming here?” I ask, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. He was only someone I met briefly once, but he seemed cool.

“Yup. He’ll crash here until we’re back, then fly with us to Hawaii.” Chris explains, looking proud of himself.

Matt perks up instantly, his face lighting up with a genuine smile, which around me was a rarity. “That’s sick!” he says, leaning forward with sudden enthusiasm. “This is gonna be good.”

I can’t help but notice the shift in Matt’s tone. It’s the kind of warmth and excitement he never seems to have when he’s talking to me. Amazing, really, how he can be so happy with five people in this house but act so cold when it’s just four.

I drop into the chair across from him, clutching my sketch pad a little tighter. The contrast stings more than I want to admit, why is he like this with me? I decide to focus on Chris instead, who’s still riding the high from Nate’s call.

Chris plops back onto the couch, gesturing toward the pad in my hands. “Let me see what you’ve got.”

I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I even have the energy to go through the designs, but I set the sketch pad on the table and flip it open to the latest pages.

Chris leans forward, his expression genuinely interested as he studies the designs. “These are unbelievable” he says after a few moments, nodding in approval. “Exactly the vibe I was thinking. We’ll go over colorways tomorrow, but this is a solid start.”

“Great I was thinking adding letters into the patches too, all we need to decide on a font.” I say, but realistically my thoughts are already elsewhere. 

It’s hard not to feel like the outsider in this group sometimes, and Matt’s solely the reason. But then days like today confuse me, I catch myself thinking about the small things Matt has done, the AC, the earplugs, the eye mask, letting me sleep in his bed. Maybe I’m the problem?

I glance over at Matt, who’s back to scrolling on his phone, his expression unreadable. I sit back in my chair, flipping through the pages of my sketch pad while the idea lingers in my mind. I really should thank Matt for what he did, even if he’d probably just shrug it off or make some snide remark. Still, it feels right.

But how do I do it without the awkwardness? Without it becoming another weird, tension filled moment between us? Especially with other people around.

I pull out my phone and open the Uber app, scrolling through nearby stores. Target pops up, and I click on it, searching for something simple, like a Thank You card. I scroll past the overly formal ones and find one that feels more neutral, a plain white card with a gold "Thanks" embossed on the front.

As I add it to my cart, I pause for a moment, debating whether to leave it at that or add something else. A thank you card alone might come across as too formal, like I've not made that much of an effort. My finger hovers over the snack section before I give in and start browsing.

Matt isn’t exactly hard to read when it comes to his tastes. I’ve seen him tear through a bag of jelly worms during one of his late night streams, so I add a pack of those. Then a couple of chocolate bars for good measure. It feels like a decent enough gesture, casual, thoughtful, but not too over board.

I double check the delivery address and confirm the order. The app tells me it’ll be here within the next half hour. Perfect.

I glance across the room at Matt again. He hasn’t looked up from his phone, completely absorbed in whatever he’s scrolling through. Part of me wants to say something now, just to break the silence, but I don’t trust myself not to fumble over the words. This will be easier, quieter, but hopefully meaningful.

Chris, meanwhile, is still flipping through the sketches. “Seriously, you’re killing it with these” he says, his tone casual but genuine.

“Thanks” I reply, though my mind is still focused on the delivery.

About twenty minutes later, my phone buzzes with a notification: Your Target order has arrived. I slip out of the living area as discreetly as I can and head toward the front door.

The small brown bag is waiting at the door. I grab it quickly and head upstairs to my room, where I can put everything together without an audience.

I pull the card out first, grabbing a pen from my desk. I keep the message short:

Thanks for today, and the new bits for my room. I really appreciate it. - Y/n

It feels slightly awkward writing it, but at least it’s honest. I slip the card into its envelope and tuck it into the bag with the snacks.

Now comes the hard part. How do I get this to him without making it weird? After a moment of hesitation, I decide to leave it outside his bedroom door. He’s bound to come across it eventually, and it saves both of us the awkwardness of a face to face.

I wait until the living area clears out, Chris and Nick head to their rooms, and Matt disappears into his. Then, with the bag in hand, I quietly creep toward his door and set it down infront of the door.

Now all I can do is wait, and hope this can smooth out whatever tension is between us.

I head to my room and for once, the air feels bearable, thanks to the cooler Matt got me. I drop onto my bed, sighing into the quiet. I grab my phone, ready to set an alarm for the morning. My thumb hovers over the clock icon when a notification pops up at the top of the screen:

Thanks for ordering! How was your order? Tip Ethan.

I stare at it for a second, my stomach twisting. Ethan. God, that name. It feels like it’s haunting me, popping up when I least expect it.

I push the notification away reflexively, not clicking into the Uber app. I set my alarm and toss my phone onto the nightstand, my chest slightly aching. Why does something so small feel like a punch in the gut?

Shaking my head, I pull the blanket over me, turning onto my side. Tomorrow is a new day, I tell myself. A day to focus on work, on designs, on anything but ghosts from the past.

I close my eyes, hoping to let sleep take control.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring on the nightstand. I groan softly, but I force myself up, knowing I can’t afford to hit snooze. I stretch, pull on a hoodie, and head downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet, which I’m grateful for. Matt’s probably still asleep, and Nick doesn’t emerge before 10 if he doesn’t have to.

I make myself some scrambled eggs and toast, moving quickly around the kitchen, aware of the time. Chris and I have a meeting scheduled for 9am to finalize designs, and I’m thankful we get to do it here, at his kitchen table. 

Chris walks in just as I’m finishing my coffee. His hair is slightly messy, and he’s wearing a black hoodie and joggers, looking like he just rolled out of bed.

“Morning” he says, voice husky.

“Morning” I reply, offering a small smile.

He gets himself a soda, leans against the counter, and takes a sip. “Ready for this meeting?”

“As ready as I can be for 9am” I say, grabbing my sketch pad and laptop from the chair beside me.

We settle at the kitchen table, Chris leans back in his chair, tapping his pen against the edge of the table as we go over the color options. The table is scattered with swatches, mockups, and half drank liquids.

“So” he says, holding up a navy, white and red combo, “I think this one is clean. It’s classic, but it’s fresh.”

I nod. “Agreed. Navy, white and red always works.”

We scribble down notes on the mockup before moving to the next pairing. Chris points to a pink and red combination I’d suggested earlier. “I actually love this. It’s bold but not obnoxious.”

“Right? It’s kind of unexpected but still wearable” I reply. 

We continue debating until we settle on a full lineup: navy, white and red, pink and red, lilac and violet, and an all black option. 

“All black is always a hit” Chris says, jotting it down. “This is solid. I think we’ve got something here.”

We sit in silence for a moment, both of us looking over the finalized ideas. It feels good to have something concrete, a sense of accomplishment settling over me.

Before we knew it, everything was finalized and sent off to the manufacturer for samples. I was filled with a sense of relief and excitement.

“Alright” Chris said, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I’d better get going to the airport. Nate’s flight should be landing in an hour.”

As if timed perfect, Nick appeared at the bottom of the stairs, yawning and stretching dramatically. He leaned against the wall, still in his pajamas. “You’re heading to the airport?” he asked, his voice groggy but intrigued.

Chris nodded. “Yeah, to grab Nate.”

Nick’s eyes lit up. “Take me with you! I need breakfast. Please.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “You just woke up, and you want me to detour so you can fill your face?”

Nick clasped his hands together in mock pleading. “Yes! Please!. It’s a win win. You get company driving, and I get tater tots. Come on, you love me.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. Chris sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “Fine. But we’re not making a whole morning out of it. Quick stop and that’s it.”

Nick grinned triumphantly and darted back upstairs, calling over his shoulder. “Give me five minutes! I’ll be ready!”

Chris glanced at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s like a child sometimes.”

I laughed. “That’s rich coming from you.”

As Chris grabbed his keys and jacket, he paused. “You good here?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve got plenty to do” I assured him as he headed out. 

A few moments later, I heard Nick bolting back down the stairs, still pulling on his Ugg’s as he followed Chris out the door.

Now that the chaos of work had settled, I decided to take a rare moment for myself. I sank into the L shaped couch, grabbing the remote and began catching up on some shows. For once, it felt like I could truly relax.

Then all of a sudden, I hear this loud, insistent pounding at the front door, completely shattering any calm I created. I froze, unsure of what to do. I didn’t like answering the door in general. Maybe it was just a delivery? But the pounding continued, more urgent this time. Should I get it? I hesitated, glancing at the empty stairs. I mean, I did live here now, sorta. If it was something important and it was missed, it would be on me.

I hopped up from the couch, cursing under my breath about how Matt should really be the one to deal with this. Each step down the stairs felt heavier as the pounding persisted. I reached the door and swung it open.

And there he stood.

Ethan.

Of all people, Ethan.

The world around me started to spin. His face was the last thing I expected to see. He looked rougher around the edges, but unmistakably him. For a moment, neither of us spoke, just staring at each other.

“Hey” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes searching mine.

“What.. are you doing here?” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I needed to see you” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

My instinct was to shut the door, panic and adrenaline coursing through my veins. My mind spun. How did he know I was here? Then it clicked in my brain.

The Uber notification.

He was the driver.

“Wait!” Ethan yelled, shooting his hand out to block the door before it could fully close.

“Ethan, what the fuck? What the fuck are you even doing here?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw attention. 

“Just hear me out” he said, his tone becoming more insistent with every sentence.

“No. Absolutely not. You shouldn't even know where I am.”

His lips pressed together into a thin line, already getting frustrated. “It wasn’t intentional. I seen the name and recognised the address and I just couldn’t leave it so-”

“So you thought randomly showing up was a good idea?” I interrupted, my voice now raising.

Ethan sighed aggressively, leaning against the doorframe, his hand keeping the door open with his firm grip. “I didn’t come here to fight. I just.. I wanted to see you. We didn’t exactly end things on the best terms.”

I let out a pitiful laugh, trying to keep my composure. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Look” he said, his tone softening, “I know I fucked up, but I’ve been thinking about you. About us.”

I shook my head, stepping back trying to make the distance between us known. “Ethan, whatever you’re looking for, you’re not going to find it here. You’ve honestly lost it, showing up here like this. After everything you did? Trashing my apartment, stealing my things, making me homeless. You crossed every line.”

Ethan threw his hands up defensively. “I came here to talk. To explain.”

“Explain?” I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut. “Explain what? How you thought destroying my home was some way of winning me back? You’ve got to be fucking joking. I don’t want to hear it, Ethan. I just want my locket back. That’s it.”

Ethan’s expression darkened, and his voice dripped with venom. “You really are a bitch, you know that?”

His words hit me across the face, but I didn’t flinch. I’d dealt with his manipulation long enough to know how to stand my ground.

“Call me whatever you want. Just give me my locket.” I said firmly, trying to hold back tears longing for my locket.

Ethan smirked, taking a step closer. “I was going to give it to you. I really was. But not now. Not after you acting like this.”

I took a step back, my blood boiling. “Me? Acting like this? You’ve got some nerve, Ethan. Leave.”

He didn’t budge, his presence suffocating the space between us. I repeated myself, louder this time. “Go, Ethan. I’m serious. Leave. Now.”

But Ethan stayed firmly rooted in place, his defiance infuriating and almost threatening. Just as I was about to speak again, a voice came from behind me.

“She’s asked you to leave, kid.”

I turned to see Matt standing a few steps above me, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed, but his eyes told a different story.

Ethan’s face scrunched. “This isn’t your business, man.”

“It is when you’re standing at my front door,” Matt replied, his voice low and steady. “She’s told you to leave. I suggest you do before this gets embarrassing for you.”

Ethan’s stance finally cracked, and with a final glare in my direction, he muttered something under his breath before stepping back.

“This isn’t over” Ethan said, pointing at me as he turned to walk away.

“Oh, it is.” Matt laughed after him.

The door clicked shut, and for a moment, silence filled the hallway.

“You okay?” Matt asked, his face softening as he looked at me.

I nodded, though my heart was still thumping. “Yeah.. Thanks for that.”

Matt shrugged. “No problem. Guy’s a fucking loser.”

I displayed a small smile, but the feeling of the encounter lingered. Ethan may have left, but his shadow loomed, reminding me that he wasn’t out of my life just yet.

As we walked up the stairs at the front door, the sound of voices and footsteps echoed from the garage staircase. A second later, Chris, Nick, and Nate appear in the living area, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

Chris stopped mid laugh when he saw us standing there, his gaze flicking between Matt and me. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone curious.

a/n: protective matt unlocked

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

PREVIOUS

CHAPTER TEN: HOW IT'S ENDS

synopsis: on the last day of the cruise, you confront the life-changing choices made over the past few days and embrace the uncertain, but hopeful, future awaiting you.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), alternate universe, fluffy, Anakin being a hopeless romantic

w: 3.2k

a/n: hello there,  I confess, words seem to escape me right now 🥺💕 This idea came to me so randomly—I was listening to Juno, and suddenly all the pieces started falling into place. I never expected the direction it would take, but wow… I’m so grateful for all the love, comments, and encouragement along the way! 🥹💖

I hope you enjoy the ending as much as I loved creating it 🫶✨, and who knows—maybe we’ll meet again on the next adventure! Thank you so much for being here, and kisses to all of you 😘💌

📣 Special shoutout to everyone who commented—y’all literally had me smiling from ear to ear 😭😁💕 Your words mean the world to me! 🌸💫

This isn't how it ends This isn't where we put down our pens Go tell the businessmen This isn't how it ends

The golden rays of the morning sun streamed through the small oval window of the cruise ship room. You had forgotten to close the curtains the night before, allowing the early light to slowly warm the space. The soft glow reflected on Anakin’s sandy blond hair, the messy strands splayed against the crisp white pillowcase. His chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic motion, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close. His chin rested comfortably in your hair, which still carried the faint scent of your shampoo.

The light crept higher, reaching your face, and you stirred sleepily, the warmth stirring a quiet discomfort. You mumbled, your eyelids fluttering before you finally gave in and blinked yourself awake, squinting to adjust to the brightness.

The sunrise outside was breathtaking, the sun climbing out of the endless ocean to paint the sky in shades of gold and amber. It was beautiful, but bittersweet—this was the last morning you’d wake up to this view, the last morning of the cruise. Soon, you’d be stepping off this ship and back into the rhythm of everyday life: college, work, and Netflix marathons filling the gaps where adventure had been.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the quiet sound of Anakin stirring. Your fingers absently traced through his soft hair, and he responded with a sleepy hum, leaning into your touch as if drawn by instinct. His nose scrunched slightly, and the corner of his lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” you whispered, your voice calm and teasing.

He let out a low, playful grunt, refusing to open his eyes just yet. “What? I was being so convincing,” he replied, his voice rough with sleep but laced with humor.

A smile tugged at your lips as he finally opened his eyes, those stormy blues meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart ache. You relaxed back into his embrace as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand trailing soothing patterns down the length of your back.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmured, his tone tender.

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled groggily, your gaze wandering from his to the simple white wallpaper with thin blue stripes on the wall. The room fell quiet again, but not uncomfortably so. The events of the past few days loomed in your mind, crashing over you like the waves outside hitting the hull of the ship.

“What’s on your mind, little angel?” Anakin asked softly, tilting his head to study your face. There was no judgment in his eyes, only curiosity and concern, like he was ready to carry whatever burden you were holding.

“So much happened this weekend,” you admitted after a moment, your voice thoughtful. His fingers found yours, intertwining with your open palm as his hand rested on your belly.

“Good things, I hope,” he murmured, his playful tone lighting up the stillness of the morning.

You didn’t answer immediately, the weight of everything making your chest feel tight. But when you met his gaze, the soft lines of his face, the warmth in his expression, made you feel safe enough to exhale.

“Yes,” you said at last, your voice soft but firm. “I’m just… taking stock of things. I can’t describe how happy I am to be with you, but it still feels like there’s so much ahead of us.”

“We’ll do this together,” Anakin promised, his voice steady with quiet determination. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles that sent warmth coursing through you. “We’ll figure everything out, one step at a time.”

A small smile broke across your face as the tension eased, replaced by the overwhelming love you felt for him.

“Now,” he said, his tone shifting to something more playful, “let’s enjoy that amazing shower one last time.”

Before you could protest, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal-style across the room. A surprised laugh escaped you, and you clung to his shoulders as he grinned down at you, his mischievous spark fully returned.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, giggling as he carried you into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the air.

After a shared bath that lasted far longer than planned—thanks to the endless trail of kisses and caresses exchanged under the hot spray—you were finally dressed for the day. But that didn’t mean you were ready. Not for the inevitable moment where you’d have to face your best friend’s entire family after everything that had unfolded this weekend.

Speaking of him, Luke approached with an apologetic look that made you pause. The first thought that popped into your mind, unbidden, was how Skywalker men had perfected the art of looking like they were about to whine. But you shook the thought away, focusing on the present.

“Can we talk?” Luke asked, his voice calm but tinged with hesitation. His arms were clasped behind his back, a telltale sign of his nervousness.

“Okay,” you nodded, guiding him to the edge of the ship. The salty breeze tousled your hair as you leaned against the iron railing, staring out at the endless expanse of the sea.

Luke leaned beside you, quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spilling out quickly. “I completely overreacted. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking, insulting you like that?”

You glanced at him, surprised by his candidness.

“I mean,” he continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “it’s still kind of weird—really weird—knowing you’re with my dad. But nothing about that gave me the right to be such a jerk to you. To both of you.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “I’m sorry.”

You softened at his sincerity. “I understand you were frustrated.”

“And acting like a dick,” he added bluntly, cutting you off before you could respond.

You couldn’t help it—you burst into laughter. “That too.”

Luke smiled sheepishly, but the weight of the moment wasn’t lost on him. “You know, my parents’ marriage has been a mess for as long as I can remember. I guess part of me still held on to this dumb, idealized idea that maybe they’d fix it. Like, one big family Christmas, you know? But… honestly, a divorce probably would’ve avoided a lot of shit.” He exhaled heavily, his gaze fixed on the distant waves. “So, yeah. It’s not like I didn’t see this coming. I just… wasn’t ready to deal with it.”

You remained silent, giving him the space to work through his thoughts.

“I just…” Luke turned to you, his voice softer now. “I just want my best friend back. I know I don’t deserve it after how I acted, but you’ve always been there for me. We’ve been through so much together, and the idea of losing that? It sucks. It hurts. A lot.”

His words tugged at your heart, and you reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. “Well, you’re not off the hook yet. You still have to make it up to me for all the trouble you caused,” you teased, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

Luke grinned, the tension between you dissolving into something lighter. “Fair enough,” he replied, then added with a smirk, “Although, can’t I just delegate that job to my dad?”

Your jaw dropped, and you swatted his arm with a playful punch. “Idiot.”

He winced in mock pain, clutching his shoulder. “Hey, I’m fragile! Besides, I’ve already been through enough trauma—like seeing you two together. Please, I’m begging you, no kissing in front of me ever again. My therapist is already going to have a field day.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Luke’s grin widened, and for the first time in days, things felt normal again. It was good to have your friend back, the ease of your dynamic slipping into place as naturally as breathing.

For a few moments, the two of you simply stood there, side by side, watching the ocean stretch endlessly before you. The sound of the waves lapping against the ship’s hull filled the comfortable silence, broken only when Leia’s voice called out over the sea breeze.

“Come on, you two! Lunch is ready! And it’s the last one before we dock, so don’t miss it!”

Luke straightened, rolling his eyes but grinning all the same. “Let’s go before she starts bossing us around like mom.”

You laughed as the two of you turned and made your way toward the dining area, the weight of the past weekend finally starting to lift.

Anakin sat at the end of the table, his fingers drumming nervously against the edge of his wine glass. Padmé was seated at the opposite end, mirroring the first dinner of the anniversary celebration that now felt like a lifetime ago. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him, but he was too on edge to laugh. Instead, he tugged at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt far too tight.

“Relax, Ani. She’s not going to run away from you,” Padmé teased from her seat, her tone amused. Then, with a mischievous wink at her soon-to-be ex-husband, she added, “Besides, Luke mentioned she can’t swim.”

Anakin sighed, shaking his head at her teasing. “Hilarious,” he muttered, taking a sip of his wine to mask the grin threatening to surface.

The moment the dining room doors opened, and you walked in with Luke, Anakin almost spilled his drink in his haste to stand. In a clumsy blur, he scrambled to pull out a chair for you, nearly knocking over the table in the process. Han and Leia exchanged amused glances as they went to greet Padmé, who watched the scene unfold with a calm smile.

Padmé hid her smirk behind her glass, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Oh, how clumsy Anakin could be when he was in love. It only took one of your smiles to turn him into a nervous wreck—a far cry from the confident, mature man of 40 years.

Anakin sat at the end of the table, Padmé at the other, mirroring the seating arrangement from the awkward dinner at the start of the cruise. The irony wasn’t lost on him, but instead of laughing, he found himself tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt.

“Relax, Ani. She’s not going to run away from you,” Padmé teased from her seat, her tone amused. Then, with a mischievous wink at her soon-to-be ex-husband, she added, “Besides, Luke mentioned she can’t swim.”

Anakin shot her a look, shaking his head as he sighed. “Hilarious,” he replied dryly, taking a sip of his wine. But his attempt at composure vanished in an instant when he saw you and Luke enter the dining room. He nearly knocked over the table in his haste to get up and pull out your chair.

Padmé hid her smirk behind her glass, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Oh, how clumsy Anakin could be when he was in love. It only took one of your smiles to turn him into a nervous wreck—a far cry from the confident, mature man of 40 years.

Once everyone was seated, Padmé tapped her knife against her glass to capture the room’s attention. The gentle chime cut through the soft hum of conversation, and all eyes turned to her.

“First of all,” Padmé began, her voice calm and measured as she looked directly at you, “I owe you an apology.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, the words catching you completely off guard.

“You didn’t deserve the accusations I threw at you,” Padmé continued, sincerity evident in her tone. “My relationship with Anakin has been over for so many years, and yet, I let my frustration and pride get the better of me. I was unfair to you, and I regret my behavior. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. This was the second apology you’d received today, and it left you reeling. “I… appreciate your sincerity,” you finally managed, your voice soft but genuine.

Anakin, sitting beside you, reached for your hand under the table, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand in silent reassurance.

“And,” Anakin chimed in, clearing his throat, “since we’re clearing the air… in case anyone didn’t know, Padmé and I are getting a divorce.”

Han, ever the opportunist for humor, couldn’t resist. “Took you long enough, huh?” he quipped, earning an elbow to the ribs from Leia.

“Ow,” Han muttered under his breath, sitting back in his chair with a sheepish grin.

Padmé chuckled softly before continuing. “Like your father said,” she addressed Leia and Luke, her tone gentle yet firm, “our marriage has been more of a partnership than a romance for a long time now. The feelings that once held us together are gone, and we stayed together thinking it was the best thing for the family. But in truth, we were holding ourselves back. By clinging to the past, we denied ourselves the opportunity to find happiness again.”

She glanced between Anakin and you, her gaze calm but filled with understanding. “We’re older now. Wiser, I’d like to think. And we know that life is too short to live without love. So, here’s to new beginnings and to embracing the future.”

“Cheers to that,” Anakin murmured, lifting his glass. He turned to you with an affectionate smile, his eyes shining with gratitude.

Everyone followed suit, raising their glasses in a toast.

As the moment settled, Leia broke the silence with a question, her practical side shining through. “So… who’s going to get the house?” she asked, her tone curious. “Not that I’m complaining, but, you know, having two houses is nice. Actually, you guys should get a beach house. Right, Dad? You’d look great on a beach.”

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head. “Leia, you know I hate the beach. There’s too much sand, and sand is—”

“It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere,” Leia and Luke said in unison, their voices flat with practiced familiarity.

“Yes, Dad, we know,��� Luke added with exaggerated exasperation. “You say that every time we go to the beach.”

Anakin laughed, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Well, then you’ve got your answer. No beach houses.”

The table erupted in quiet laughter, the lightheartedness breaking through the emotional weight of the moment. Lunch continued peacefully, with the hum of conversation and the clink of wine glasses filling the air. Stories were exchanged, jokes were made, and for the first time in a long time, the family felt… whole.

Anakin stole a glance at you, his smile softening as he watched you laugh at something Luke had said. This was what he had wanted—joy, love, and the freedom to move forward without the chains of the past.

New love. New air. A new chapter.

And as he reached for your hand under the table once more, giving it a gentle squeeze, he knew this was just the beginning.

“Come with me outside?” Anakin asked softly, his voice low but filled with tenderness.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his without hesitation. The warmth of his touch steadied you as he led you to the ship’s balcony. The sea breeze danced around you, carrying the faint scent of salt and the promise of a new beginning.

Once outside, Anakin turned to face you fully, his stormy blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. He exhaled deeply, as if gathering every ounce of courage he had.

“I want to keep this,” he began, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “What we have. I see a future with you, and it’s something I never thought I’d want again. I know it won’t always be easy—we’re from different generations, and we’ll have our fair share of clashes. But I want to face those challenges with you, because you’re worth it. You’re everything.”

His words hit you like a wave, overwhelming in their sincerity. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as a smile spread across your face, soft and full of love.

“I want this too, Anakin,” you murmured, your hands coming up to cradle his face. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his scruffy stubble tickling your palms. “I love you. I don’t know what the future holds, but if it’s with you, I know it’ll be enough. More than enough.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, gazing at each other, smiles mirroring the love that radiated between you. The world around you seemed to fade, the sounds of the ship and the bustling port in the distance melting into the background.

And then, as if by some unspoken agreement, you both closed the distance. His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing short of breathtaking. It wasn’t hurried or hesitant—it was passionate and full of promise. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers threaded through his sandy hair. The kiss deepened, speaking the words neither of you could fully express: devotion, trust, and the undeniable certainty that this was just the beginning of a lifetime together.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you catching your breath but unwilling to break the moment. His hands stayed on your waist, grounding you in the present while your heart soared with the possibilities of the future.

The sound of the ship docking at the port brought you back to reality, and you glanced over to see the crew setting up the stairs for passengers to disembark. Anakin, ever attentive, reached for your suitcase with one hand, the motion pulling you back to that first day of the cruise. It was almost poetic—how a simple favor for a friend had turned into something so life-changing.

As you walked down the stairs together, his other hand held yours firmly, his fingers interlaced with yours as if to silently promise he’d never let go. Anakin’s playful side returned as he began making lighthearted jokes, the sound of his laughter blending with the hum of the port.

“Shall I take you home?” he asked, his voice teasing yet gentle as he helped you down the last step. Your feet touched the ground, solid and steady, but your heart felt like it was still floating.

When you nodded, a wave of certainty washed over you. Your life had changed, irreversibly and beautifully. In just a few days, you’d gone from pretending to be someone’s girlfriend to falling deeply, irrevocably in love with the man who had captured your heart completely.

As you walked toward the car, his hand still in yours, you reflected on how unpredictable life could be. A smile tugged at your lips as you thought of the younger version of yourself—nervous, hesitant, and blissfully unaware of the adventure she was about to embark on. That crazy idea from your best friend had set everything in motion, and now, here you were, walking into the next chapter of your life with the love of your life by your side.

And for that, you were endlessly grateful.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

blanket and babbling

mattheo riddle x single mom!reader where he charms you and benjamin to sleep

↬ word count : 1,138 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : mattheo being utterly swoon-worthy, extreme fluff and softness

↬ au part? : yes ➺ ♡

navigation┆mattheo riddle masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You had barely slept the night before, your four-month-old son, Benjamin, fussing without his favorite blanket. “Blankie,” as you’d affectionately started calling it, had been his comfort since birth—a soft, pale blue swaddle that always seemed to soothe him. Without it, his cries were louder, his little fists clenching as if protesting the universe itself for taking it away.

When the doorbell rang the next morning, you nearly jumped. Benjamin was balanced on your hip, hiccuping softly after another restless night, and you were in no state to see anyone. Your hair was barely tamed, and you were still in your oversized hoodie and leggings, but you shuffled to the door anyway.

“Hi,” came a voice that instantly drew your attention.

You blinked, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. There stood Mattheo, his dark curls slightly tousled and his leather jacket slung over one shoulder. His brown eyes sparkled with something soft, and in his hand—oh, in his hand—was Blankie.

“I think this belongs to someone,” he said, his lips quirking into a sheepish grin as he held the blanket up.

Your mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

“The driver recognized me,” Mattheo continued, his voice almost apologetic, as if he was nervous. “She handed it to me this morning, said it might belong to a baby she’d seen on my route. I figured it was probably your little guy.”

At the sight of his blanket, Benjamin perked up instantly, letting out a loud, happy gurgle that made Mattheo’s grin widen.

“Oh, my God,” you finally managed, stepping aside to let him in. “You have no idea how much you just saved me. Come in—please, I owe you coffee or something.”

Mattheo hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside, his presence filling the small space. He handed over Blankie, and Benjamin immediately latched onto it, clutching the fabric with his tiny fists and pulling it close to his face.

“See, Benny?” you cooed, bouncing him lightly. “The nice man brought back your Blankie. Can you say thank you?”

Benjamin burbled nonsense in response, but his delighted smile felt like gratitude enough.

Mattheo chuckled, his voice low and warm. “He’s got good taste. That’s a nice blanket. Super soft.” He reached out and lightly brushed the fabric, as if testing it himself.

You laughed, motioning toward the living room. “Well, Blankie is his prized possession. Sit down—I’ll make coffee. It’s the least I can do after what you’ve done for us.”

Mattheo followed you into the cozy space, his hands shoved into his pockets. He sat on the edge of the couch, glancing around with a curious but polite expression. His attention shifted back to Benjamin, who was now happily gnawing on the corner of Blankie.

“So,” Mattheo said as you bustled around the kitchen, “you’re raising this little legend on your own?”

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling softly. “Yeah, just me and Benny. It’s been a lot, but moments like this make it worth it.”

Mattheo nodded, his expression thoughtful. “You’re doing great. He looks like a happy kid.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. As you handed him a mug of coffee, you noticed how naturally he seemed to fit into your space—leaning back on the couch with Benjamin gazing up at him curiously.

Time seemed to fly as you and Mattheo sat together in the living room, Benjamin happily occupying himself with Blankie and the occasional attention from his newfound friend. The conversation was light and easy, punctuated by Benjamin’s occasional giggles as Mattheo made silly faces or tapped his tiny nose.

But eventually, the little boy’s eyes started to droop.

“Nap time?” Mattheo asked, noticing Benjamin rubbing his eyes with a tiny fist.

“Supposed to be,” you sighed, already anticipating the battle. “But he’s been extra stubborn lately. He just doesn’t want to miss anything.”

You scooped Benjamin up, cradling him as you tried your usual routine—gentle rocking, soothing shushing sounds—but he fussed and squirmed, letting out small, insistent cries.

Mattheo stood, his hands on his hips. “Alright, little man,” he said, his voice light but determined. “You and I are going to have a talk about naps.”

You blinked at him, surprised but amused as he reached out to take Benjamin. “You sure?”

Mattheo nodded confidently. “I’ve got this.”

You hesitated but handed Benjamin over, watching in awe as Mattheo settled him against his chest. He started pacing the living room, humming softly—a tune you didn’t recognize but found oddly comforting.

Benjamin stared up at him, wide-eyed at first, but his tiny body gradually relaxed. Mattheo’s deep voice mixed with the rhythm of his steps, and within minutes, your son’s eyelids fluttered closed.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “You’re a miracle worker,” you whispered, your voice full of awe and gratitude.

Mattheo grinned, his voice low so as not to disturb Benjamin. “It’s all about confidence. Babies can smell fear.”

You laughed softly as he carefully laid Benjamin in his crib, making sure Blankie was tucked snugly by his side.

When he turned back to you, the exhaustion of the day finally caught up to you. “You’re amazing,” you murmured, sinking onto the couch. “Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you today.”

Mattheo chuckled, sitting down beside you. “Happy to help.”

The warmth of the moment, combined with the quiet of the room, was too much for your tired body. You had no idea when your eyes drifted shut, but the next thing you knew, you felt the soft weight of a blanket being draped over you.

You stirred slightly, opening your eyes just enough to see Mattheo crouching beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand lightly shaking your shoulder. “I’m heading out. Didn’t want to just disappear.”

You sat up quickly, suddenly wide awake. “Oh, Mattheo, thank you so much—for everything. Seriously, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He smiled, brushing a curl out of his face. “It’s no problem. I’m glad I could help. You’ve got a great kid there.”

You stood, walking him to the door. “Feel free to come by any time,” you said earnestly, your cheeks warming slightly. “I mean it. You’re welcome here whenever.”

Mattheo looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before a soft smile spread across his face. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice warm.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he turned back one last time. “Take care of yourself, okay? And let me know if you ever need anything.”

You nodded, watching as he disappeared down the stairs. When you closed the door and turned back to the peaceful silence of the apartment, you found yourself smiling.

It wasn’t just Benjamin who had been comforted that day.

[sugusat]

Saturo Gojo x Reader

Post-Apocalyptic Survival: In a world overrun by curses, you team up with Gojo to survive. His cocky attitude keeps you somewhat entertained, but his rare moments of vulnerability make you wonder what else he has hidden under that blindfold.

Slight enemies to lovers, gojos a goof and lowkey down bad but reader is angsty af from saving everyone. Pesismistic reader, eventual smut. Oral, grinding? Gojo calls reader Peach!

Part 2!

The long abandoned buildings creaked and swayed as rats scuttled across the ground in the afternoon sun. You and Gojo had been walking for hours now, hell bent on making your way back to camp where you and a group of survivors had been banding together to try and defeat the dominating curses once and for all.

You had both gotten lost on a run for supplies, overwhelmed by high-level curses that had attacked.

The camp would be wondering where you both were now, and you weren’t liking the look of that nasty gash on Saturos ribs that he had received in turn for defending you. With Gojo still weak from the fight, you didn't like the idea of being out here vulnerable any longer than you needed to be.

He was such an idiot sometimes.

"Come onnn Peach, we've been walking for hours. Can we pur-leasE take a break." Gojo sighed as he dragged his feet across the mudded road.

"For the last time, no! We need to get into the woods whilst we have the daylight, the curses will be coming out to play soon and I do not want another run-in. Besides, I'm estimating the camp is only around 1 hour from here." You sighed as you continued walking, ignoring the ache in your feet and trying to not become too paranoid as the dark woods came into view.

This was good, you would be more covered on this part and have more areas to hide. You would get home shortly and then could have some well-needed space from Gojo.

All these thoughts ran through your head as you sent Gojo silent daggers through the back of his head.

"Ya know I can feel you glaring at me from here, it wouldn't kill you to say thank you. You know.. for saving your life and all."

You snorted at this, "What you did was foolish, you are the strongest one here and yet you came on this stupid supply run and nearly died stopping curses I could have handled." You muttered the last part as you knew you couldn't have handled those curses alone, but you weren't ready to admit that yet.

Since the curses had taken over 5 years ago, the world had fallen into disarray. With limited communications and more people dying every day, the fight was hard. But this didn't seem to have stopped Gojo's infernal positivity, no he seemed entirely unaffected by the years and it was infuriating.

"Yeah sure Peach, you could have handled that all by yourself, forgive me for making an error in judgement. Next time, you handle the big bad demons all by yourself. " His words seemed more agitated now and his movements had become sluggish with every step.

You moved to stand in front of him, and he staggered as if he hadn't noticed you had even gotten ahead of him. "You're burning up, I think that curses blade was poisoned. Fuck." You sighed as he began to sway.

"Hmhm Peach I'm fine, lets just rest awhile yeah?" Gojo mumbled as he leaned his forehead further into your hand.

"No, we need to keep moving, come on.. Just loop your arm around mine and tell me something, k-keep talking to me," You insisted hesitantly as you began to pull Gojo a bit quicker through the muddy forest. Using what little reversed technique you knew to try and heal him. If you made it back, you needed to remember to thank Shoko for showing you a few tricks.

"I think that's the first time you've ever asked me to speak, rather than shouting at me to shut the hell up. Are you sure you're not the one with the fever Peach?" Gojo smirked as his steps began to match your pace but his weight noticeably leaned into you.

You laughed at this, just satisfied he was still walking and talking. The camp wasn't far, you could do this. Sure - It was only the strongest.. close to passing out in your arms.. Gods, what would the camp think if you got him killed? Then where would you all be, and a small part of yourself couldn't deny how awful it would be to not have his annoying optimism around all the time.

"I thought we were supposed to be talking Peach, " Gojo breathlessly said as he floppily turned his head to yours, his eyes hidden beneath the fabric on his head. "We are! We're all fine. Everything will be fine." You spoke more to yourself than him.

"Heh, I know it will be Peach" Gojo said as he began to walk with a bit more strength, "because I've got you. You really think any of us would be still here without ya saving us all the time Peach?" Gojo said as a lazy smile graced his face.

This was strange, Gojo and you tormented each other but you were sure over the last five years he had never acknowledged your leadership in the camp or how you tirelessly worked towards keeping everyone alive and stopping the curses once and for all.

You were silent in this, unsure what to say. "Why do you call me Peach?" You asked, wanting to steer the topic away from his strange vulnerability at the minute.

"Heh, I've always called you Peach. Do I need a reason?." Gojo laughed as he staggered slightly across a small fallen branch on the ground. You steadied him with your arm and pulled him closer, the camp wasn't far now.

"C-come on, just a bit longer Saturo.." Gojo seemed to wake at this, "What did you call me?" He asked in a hazy confusion, "Your name silly, we're nearly there." "Ye-yeah, right. Nearly there," Gojo muttered as you continued to walk, Gojo leaning into you still.

"I call you Peach because when we first met, before all of this, you were so shy and awkward. You would go pink as a peach whenever we spoke, but now.. you're so different.."

"Bad different?" You snorted as you glanced up at the tall white-haired boy.

"N-no, never. You keep us all alive, heh- I've never known someone so stubborn to fight for this world.." You held your breath, the only sound of both footsteps in the quiet woods to fill the air. Gojo sighed, the poison clearly fighting back against the healing energy.

"I guess it's just nice to hold on to something that could have been ya-know? Everything is changing every day and it can feel so scary, but if I can still call you Peach and maybe tease a lil, then I guess it's not too bad right?"

You glanced down at the ground, processing Saturos small confession. You always thought he was an arrogant fool, too powerful to understand what it was like to fear death every day. Too busy laughing and making jokes to understand the gravity of what you were all doing here, fighting back. But maybe you had been the one to judge too quickly, maybe this was just how Gojo coped with everything. Just how you leading the camp and fixing everyone, helped you feel a bit more in control.

"Come on, we're here. Shoko is going to pull that poison out of you and you'll be back to your usual teasing self." You said with an eye roll, dismissing the curious conversation.

"Hmhm..home sweet home.." Gojo muttered as he almost fell into the protective wall that kept the camp safe.

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After dropping a babbling Gojo into the arms of Nanami and Shoko, you quickly made your way to the small 2 room quarters you had been provided many years ago. The camp consisted of a series of shacks and some larger buildings for a food hall, medical and defence, it wasn't much but it was home.

Now resting on the tiny beaten table in what could be called the living room, you tried to get comfortable as you poured over war strategies in books and any possible weapons for defeating curses.

A knock sounded at the old wooden door. Your head whipped around at the sudden sound, and the door began to creak open. Immediate panic ran through you as you moved for the cursed-infused dagger resting on the table and stood to attack. But as quickly as you were standing, the door opened fully and a mop of white hair bobbed into the room, ducking down, clearly too tall for the shack's rickety door.

"Woah-woah, I come in peace alright, jesus, and I thought we liked each other now,”

Gojo laughed as he held his hands in the air and looked you up and down. His mask now abandoned and his captivating six eyes staring into your soul. You calmed your breathing, glaring at his back as you placed the knife on the table and Gojo slowly shut the door behind him.

"You ass! Can see you're back to your usual self now," You snarled, angry at yourself for reacting. Reading about war strategies and demons for two hours in silence would make any girl jumpy.

"So this is how you spend your nights.." Gojo smirked as he took in the worn shack filled with aged volumes and archives containing vital information about the war you were fighting, usually swapped between you and Nanami. Weapons scattered the floors and more clutter accumulated over the years. Small drawings littered the door of a long broken fridge, which caught Gojo's eye as he walked over to observe.

"Make yourself at home.." You muttered as Gojos eyes skimmed the collection of sketches from another life, along with some children's drawings. "Wow, you really are talented, seriously if art museums still existed this would be a home run." Gojo laughed as he picked up a splotchy painted drawing, clearly done by one of the small children you helped train and not yourself.

You snatched the drawing from his hand and placed it on the counter, "What do you want Saturo..?" You were so tired after being nearly eaten by curses, saving Gojo and pouring over those beaten books. You weren't in the mood for his teasing.

"Hey it's been a long day but um, I guess I just wanted to say thanks alright? I guess you saved both of our asses today and I appreciated it."

Gojo said awkwardly as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, his muscles flexing through the tight t-shirt he now wore. You could see the lining of where the bandage ran around his ribs.

You were clearly sleep deprived if you were admiring Gojos muscles, you shook your head. Clearing the fog.

"Uh, yeah it's fine I guess. I mean you hah-you saved us first, and it wasn't much." You mumbled, feeling an awkwardness from the vulnerability again. You weren't used to this.

"I guess the Peach name still counts.." Gojo smirked as he stared at you and your slightly flushed cheeks.

"Ass" you muttered as you turned to sit at the table. As you sat down, Gojo started to follow but instead of sitting down on the other remaining chair, he knelt in front of you.

"Look I mean it, thank you. And I'm sorry if you don't think I take things seriously Peach, because I do, trust me. But sometimes it's nice to remind you that life can still be fun ya know?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed but Gojo placed a large hand on your thigh and pulled your body back to face his kneeling form. "You don't always have to be the strong one Peach. You deserve joy as well, you know... ”

And you didn't know what to do with those words, it was as if five years of pressure and fighting came crashing down on you all at once. You felt the breath be sucked out of your lungs at someone seeing you, and you were so tired. So tired of running, of fighting, of making the decisions. But you weren't ready to face that just yet, and you hadn't realised you had knelt forward, your face now so close to Gojo's who silently watched you.

Tears threatened to spill in your eyes but you couldn't deal with it, couldn't stand it. So you did the only thing you could, you kissed Saturo. His initial shock reflecting through the kiss, his lips unmoving against yours and it was as if time had slowed down.

And oh god, this was a mistake. What were you doing? Why were you kissing him, but then he was moving the hand on your thigh to grab at your hip and ghosting his other across your jaw. Parting your legs to lean in further on his knees he pulled the chair closer and kissed you back with a force you had never expected. He groaned into the kiss, which surprised you even further and surprised you how much you liked that noise from his lips, and how you would do anything to hear it again.

As his tongue pushed past your lips you let out a small moan and allowed him to pull you closer as he deepened the kiss. Lips crashing together, his tongue moved around your mouth desperate to taste more of you. The hand on your jaw now snaked into your hair as small mewls fell from your lips between breaths.

"Fuck Peach, you're something else.." Your arm moved around to his thick white hair as you pulled slightly and that delicious noise crept up from his throat again.

Gojo broke the kiss to stand but quickly pulled you up from the chair and began to scatter kisses all across your neck. Sucking lightly and nipping wherever he felt was right. His hands now stroking your hips, wanting to make this moment last forever. You let out small moans of pleasure at the feel until you needed more, "Hmhm Touru please.."

"Fuck Peach, say-ah-say that again," Gojo murmured into your neck as he roughly pulled your hips against his.

"Tou-hm-ru" you muttered as you began to pull at his arms, his hair, his neck. Anything, you needed to feel more. You needed more of him.

"Peach, let me make you feel good yeh? I can do that, let it be about you okay, Peach." Gojo whispered as he continued placing kisses across your shoulders. He said it so gently it made you feel sick, this was such a strange day but the contact felt so good and you just wanted to forget. To be that girl again from 5 years ago who had a secret crush on the Saturo Gojo and not the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

You pulled him to the room other room where a small bed was situated in the middle and nothing more. He nipped at your neck as he lightly pushed you down and then caged you in on top. Dipping back to your lips, tongues tangling against each other as you arched into him. Quiet moans fell from your lips at the light friction, your pussy growing wetter by the minute with each grind.

"Heh, so responsive Peach." Gojo breathlessly laughed as he nipped at your lip. "Can I make you feel good Princess, can I do that for you?"

"Hmhm, yes please," You muttered as your hips grinded into Gojos again. "Uh s-shit, I've wanted you for so long Peach" Gojo muttered as his hips thrust down in response, his cock now painfully hard in his dark pants.

Gojo grabbed your chin and moved your restless head to meet his eyes, "Tell me you want this Peach, tell me you want this and I'll make you forget everything for tonight" "Hm fuck, please Touru, need you," not allowing yourself to process his previous words.

Gojo didn't hesitate after that, scared you may take those precious pleas back. He continued to kiss down your body, pulling your vest over your head along with your sports bra. Suddenly you were brought back to reality and very aware Satou Gojo was on top of you staring at your full breasts as if they were the last Mochi on the planet. Feeling exposed, you made to reach for the blanket but he held back your arm with his own, locking you in as his head went down, his lips suckling at your nipple and then grazing his teeth across the puckered bud as moans filled the room. Pushing against his arm at the newfound sensations. His head bobbed up, those bright blue eyes staring into yours.

"Still with me Peach?" He asked with a smirk as you nodded, eyes rolling into your head as he dipped down to the other breast.

"Hmhm Turo, please-hm-need you, please" You muttered, impatient at the lack of friction. Gojo began to leave wet sloppy kisses down your navel as he slowly pulled your pants away from your legs.

Your wetness clearly visible in the light grey panties you wore, you arched up again, the cold air providing a frustrating relief. "Shit Peach, you're soaked. This all for me? I can't wait to taste you." You blushed at this and rolled your eyes, irritated at Gojos teasing but desperately needing him to make this ache go away.

"Don't make me beg Gojo" you said with little demand as Gojo began to place wet kisses down your thighs. Your breath hitched in anticipation. Getting so close to where you needed him and then pulling back to start again on the other side teasingly.

"Uh uh Peach, I don't know. If you're calling me Gojo, we clearly don't know each other very well. Should we really do this.."

Your thighs shook with anticipation and your wet pussy helplessly bucked at nothing as Gojos large hands grazed the soaked panties.

"Turo, I need you so bad. Make me feel good, make me forget, puh-leaseee" you whined, mocking his begging from earlier in the day, still breathless.

"That felt a little sarcastic but I don't think I can deny her any longer, " And just as you were about to ask who her exactly was, Gojo dived in. At first, pushing your panties to the side but then impatiently pulling them off and lifting your lower half into the air as his tongue met your folds. You moaned aggressively, sure the whole camp would hear you but you didn't care. Fuck he had a magic tongue.

And then his long fingers entered you, first just one and then another desperately curling to a spot inside that you could never reach with your own. You panted as he nudged your legs farther apart and groaned into your pussy as you clenched around him. "Fuck peach, you taste out of this world, why have you been hiding this from me?"

"Hmhm" Was all you could say as Gojo continued to ravage you and your high began to grow. You needed the release, needed him. Your hands found their way into his hair as you pulled, needing something to ground you as you felt you were about to levitate off the bed.

Gojo moaned as you pulled on his hair, his fingers now curling again and again into your pussy. Hitting that spot you desperately needed as he continued to make out with your folds, tongue flicking at your clit, and fuck it was too much.

"Toru, I'm going to-I ccan't, shit" You mewled as his hand grabbed your own to soothe you, and then it was happening. You were so close, so close to falling. You needed to cum, you needed it so badly you couldn't see, hear or feel anything else.

"Shit Peach, cum for me yeah? Cum Peach, cum, cum" and so you did, with a final curl of his fingers, you let go and came crashing down. Every muscle in your body spasmed as Gojo continued to suck on the juices leaving your body. You think you screamed but you couldn't remember, couldn't make sense.

"Fuck Turo, what the fuck." You cried as your body came down from the insane high. It had been too goddamn long.

Gojo looked as dishevelled as you felt as he emerged from your thighs, wiping his mouth across his arm and then sucking his fingers dry.

"God damn Peach, that was something else."

You mewled back, still struggling to catch your breath as you stared at the ceiling.

You glanced down to Gojo and you wanted more of him, you needed it. But you were so tired, your eyes blinking slowly as you made grabby hands to pull him back up. He was visibly hard and you wanted to return the favour but your limbs felt like jelly, still feeling fuzzy from the previous high. Exhaustion taking over you.

Gojo quietly groaned when you began to palm at his visible erection but he quickly grabbed your wrist to gently move your hand away. He instead pulled your body into his chest and adjusted the blanket onto both of you as he brushed the top of your head with his lips.

"Sleep Peach, you did so well," He whispered into your hair as your eyes finally fell shut, officially exhausted.

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Part 2?

I really enjoyed writing this so please lmk if you liked it, this is like my second smut so pls be kind !!

[scorpioriesling]

An Enticing Offer

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Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, nsfw

Summary: Your roomate was a lot of things; kindhearted, hard-working, handsome... but, he was other things too. Messy. Maybe a little irresponsible. But, most of all -- deliciously, enticing.

SR’s Note: Oye... everytime I write smut, I feel nyyyyassty, LOL. Anywho, many thanks for @hardcoremarvelfan for the request -- I present to you, absolute Lucien filth using prompts #2, #12, #23, #71, and #74 from my promt request list. (; Enjoy.

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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The late afternoon sun streamed through the wide kitchen windows in your apartment, the golden glow illuminating the otherwise darkened space. Heaving the brown paper bag onto the small kitchen table, you sighed. Sure, an apartment that overlooked the Sidra was quite a luxury in your eyes -- but for the amount you paid each month to rent this place (well, paid half of), you'd sometimes wished they'd included curtains.

Add that to next week's grocery list. You kept forgetting to pick some up when you went to the market.

You began removing the miscellaneous items from the bag -- fresh vegetables, canned goods, that disgusting cereal your roomate requested -- and putting them away. When the mid-shelf in your pantry was full, you groaned in frustration; the top shelf was too high to reach, and your very tall, very able roomate would not be home until tomorrow.

Groceries on the table it is. And... maybe, a stepstool, added to next week's grocery run.

You were fortunate enough to secure a place like this, not to mention the roomate that came with it -- you'd met a few years ago and became fast friends, and living together seemed like a wise choice when you'd both finally abandoned your childhood homes.

A good choice indeed; having Lucien around brought you comfort, as you never liked being alone anyways. Not to mention, he was kind hearted, funny, and quite easy on the eyes. You tried to ignore the stir inside when he'd so casually walk around without a shirt on, or emerge from the bathroom in only a towel...

It was his place too, rather.

You groaned in frustration when you spotted the dirty pans on the stove, inspecting the residue on one as you picked it up.

If your roomate was one thing, it was messy.

"Lucien," you grumbled aloud. Tossing the pans into the dishwasher, you shoved it closed and turned on the wash cycle. How hard was that?

This happened quite often; Lucien, not cleaning up after himself. And you, trailing after him with a broom and dustpan.

You paused, listening for another soft sound over the rumble of the dishwasher. Straining your ears, you couldn't quite make it out -- the muffled, mubling sound over the running water.

Brows furrowing in confusion, a flicker of fear coursed through you. Sure, when Lucien was here, you'd never felt afraid in your apartment; but, since he'd left on a particularly gruelling mission only a few days ago, you couldn't help the irrational paranoia that made an appearance every so often.

Taking a timid step toward the hallway, you heard it again -- louder, this time. A soft, breathless sound amid the falling water. Your breath caught in your throat; someone was surely inside your home.

You walked faster, soft steps toward the bathroom door; sure enough. The water was running, and someone was inside.

Had he gotten home early?

"L-Lucien?" You squeaked. Your voice came out less confident than you'd hoped, and your hand shook as you reached for the doorhandle.

"Y/N... oh Gods, yes..."

Your outstretched palm halted. The voice was surely his, but what in the Hell was he doing in there?

"I'm... I'm coming in."

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you grabbed the doorhandle, twisting and shoving inside the small bathing room. Steam blasted against your face, and you coughed once as you waved it away.

The mumblings stopped.

And the shower curtain flew open.

The two of you shared a shout of shock as your eyes met, his face framed by his long, yet soaking, red hair. You both stared at one another in silent surprise for a beat, before both speaking at once.

"What the Hell are you doing here?"

"Why didn't you knock?"

The moment of clarity hits you, and Lucien wipes a hand over his dewy face.

"Y/N... by the Cauldron, why would you come in when I'm literally showering?" Your brows narrow, and you cross your arms over your chest. You don't miss him pulling the shower curtain in front of his body to cover himself -- but it's too late.

Your cheeks pinken.

"I... I didn't know, you were home, yet." You stammer, your cheeks deepening in color. "I heard someone in here, and you were still gone and-"

"And, what, you thought a stranger was using our shower?" Lucien chuckles. You feel your face heating even more, slight irritation bubbling beneath the surface as your friend seems to find this situation amusing.

"Well, I-"

He continues to laugh, raking a hand through his wet hair. Small droplets of water cascade over his shoulders, running down and over the exposed area of his pectoral muscles.

You huff. "If I must be perfectly clear," You glare. "I heard something going on in here other than just the shower." His eyebrows raise in an amused stare as his eyes scan over your face. Your very embarassed, face.

"Uh huh, and what do you think you heard?"

You huff, trying to look anywhere but him as his gaze intensifies.

"I-I thought you weren't even supposed to be home yet," you stammer, attempting to change the topic.

"Got back early," he deadpans. "I just can't believe you really thought it was anyone but me in here." He shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

"I suppose it's because of all the moaning and ... and, and words coming from inside this room." You try to remain confident, but falter as you notice his gaze lowering to your chest. Bad day to opt for a tank top.

"There's nothing wrong with relieving stress -- why is that so unbelieveable?" He quirks a brow.

You feel the familiar swirl inside your abdomen.

You swallow hard. "I guess... it was quite unbelieveable to think you'd be the one in here, saying, and... doing those things." He chuckles, and you catch sight of his erection pushing against the shower curtain. You quickly look away.

"More likely a stanger, than me, hm?" He tuts.

You gulp. "I suppose so."

Its quiet for an awkward moment, you trying not to stare at your half-covered gorgeous roomate as his eyes trail you up and down; so agonizingly slow.

"Y/N... you don't have to pretend to not stare." He chuckles. "In fact, you could join me-"

Your mouth opens in shock. "Lucien Vanserra! You're not seriously suggesting that--"

"Oh, I am." He grins, like a feline about to pounce on a little mouse. You shake your head in disbelief, the swirling in your stomach a full on tornado at this point.

You scoff, folding your arms over your chest once more. "What, you need me to help you?" You ask. He shrugs, moving to close the shower curtain. Taking a timid step forward, you begin to shrug off your shorts before thinking too long about it.

"Only if you're willing," he muses, his voice once again muffled by the cloth.

"What an enticing offer," you quip, glancing to the mirror at your reflection.

Your cheeks burn, the sensation in your abdomen becoming near unbearable. Were you really about to fuck your roomate? So many nights you'd spent together, doing seemingly harmless things; watching movies, reading together, preparing dinner.

Many of those nights, you went to bed with your hand between your thighs.

Pulling back the shower curtain lightly, you let out a nervous laugh as he came into full view. His back was to you, which made it easier to slip in behind him.

He turned, his eyes immediately wavering from your face to trace over every curve you had to offer. His bottom lip drew lightly between his teeth.

"Seems like you could use my help," you chatter, nerves propelling your mouth to move. "If you clean yourself as well as you clean your dishes-"

His hand gripped your waist, the other grabbing the back of your neck as he pulled you to him. His mouth crashed into yours, his lips moving and gliding along yours alike as he devoured your kiss. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping and tracing along the toned muscle there. It was only after his tongue had slipped in that you let out a soft moan, and he pulled back from you.

"Y/N... I-" His words were cut off as you reached between you two, gripping his hardened length that had been pushing against your stomach. His breath caught, and his eyes stared for only a moment where your hand held him before looking directly down into your eyes.

"Please..." he breathed out, his pupils blown wide with desire. You moved your hand up and down, how you'd fantasized doing many times before. You could feel him hardening more in your hand, and he reached one of his hands up to play with your nipple. You gasped, and he leaned back against the shower wall as you sped up your minstrations.

"I... I... oh Gods, Y/N," he breathed out. His other hand reached behind you, his fingers pressing into the curve of your ass where it met your thigh. You smirked, looking up at him in this state.

"You, what, pretty boy?" His eyes opened as he looked to you, doe-eyed and putting on a show. "Can't even finish a sentence as I jerk you off, hmm?"

His brows furrow, his teasing from earlier seeming to finally catch up with him. His one hand leaves your butt, gripping your wrist that pumps him; the other one clasps your throat.

"Don't act so innocent," he growls, and you clench your thighs, his tone sending a wave of heat straight to your clit.

"Get on your knees."

You make quick work of lowering yourself onto the shower floor, the warmed tile pressing against your knees as you sit back on them. His hand grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing you to look up at him. His free hand yanks on his erection -- a sight worth salivating over.

"Open that fuckin' mouth."

Happy to oblige, you open, laying your tongue out flat for him to see. He groans, his fist pumping his dick faster.

You lean forward, your tongue meeting the bottom of his length as he removes his hand. You replace it with your own near the base, holding him steady as you lick a fat stripe along his cock. Continuing your teasing, you trace your tongue along the vein running from the base to his tip; all the while lightly circling your hand at the bottom.

"Mmmm... 'love the way you taste," You groan, and gasp when he grabs your head with both hands.

"Don't... stop, the teasing," he pants, pushing your ehad closer to his throbbing dick. You take one breath before shoving it in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck," he grunts, as you start moving forward and back along his angry length. You hollow your cheeks, sucking him hard as his hips start thrusting against you.

"Mhm... fuck, Y/N, taking it so good," he groans, his grip on your hair tightening. You move quicker, his hips fucking his cock into your mouth harder and harder -- so hard you gag. He throws his head back with an unrestrained moan, and you gaze up at him through your tear-filled eyes. The sight of him, so vulnerable and needy like this...

You reach your free hand between your legs, your fingers finding the buzzing bundle of nerves near your core. He looks down at you once more, his length twitching inside your mouth.

"Yes... yes, play with that pussy," he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to prolong his orgasm. "Fuck... oh, fuck-"

He yanks your hair, pulling your mouth flush against his pelvis as he releases, hot spurts of cum coating the back of your throat. You cough as he gasps, yanking his dick out of your mouth before leaning down to grab your jaw hard.

"Swallow all of it."

You do, gulping before gasping for air. He leans back against the shower wall, smirking at you as he offers a hand to help you up. You reach up, positioning the showerhead so the water hits you directly.

Bathing in the warmth for a few minutes, your breath quickens as your roomate reaches for you, his deft fingers tracing along the curve of your waist before one reaches your throbbing core. Your breath hitches, and you grab onto his shoulders as he looks to you with pure lust in his eyes.

"Lucien..." you say breathlessly. "You... you already came-"

"Mhm," he says, his tone low as he presses a kiss just below your ear. "But you didn't."

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[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: This is kind of a dark request, i was wondering if you could write something about the sister going through a really bad depression episode and she like reaches into the kitchen cabinet to get a glass for water and dean sees her sleeve slide down revealing self harm?

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for. If not just send me another request no problem! If anyone needs to talk I’m always here!!! Requests are also always open. Thanks everyone!

Warnings: Self Harm, Mental Health Problems

Dean Winchester x sister!reader

The weight had been there for days, an invisible pressure that settled on my chest and wrapped itself around my mind, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. I knew I was spiraling again, but it wasn’t like I could stop it. Some days, I could pretend it wasn’t there. Today? Today, I couldn’t.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling like a zombie in my own skin, my limbs heavy and uncooperative. It was exhausting—just existing. I knew the moment I woke up that I didn’t want to face anyone, but I couldn’t stay locked away forever. I had to keep up the act, keep pretending. It was the only way to avoid the questions, the pity, the concern that came from Sam and Dean. I didn’t want their pity. I didn’t want them to see how broken I really was.

I stumbled to the kitchen, the task of getting a glass of water so simple, but it felt like I was walking through quicksand. I reached for the cabinet, my sleeve sliding down just enough to reveal the fresh scars on my forearm.

I froze.

That familiar, unbearable feeling of being seen settled over me. I didn’t even need to turn around. I could feel him there. He didn’t have to say anything; I could feel the shift in the air—the way the room seemed to tighten with his presence.

Dean.

“Y/N,” his voice was calm, but I could hear the edge in it, like he was trying to keep it together, trying not to let the worry he was clearly feeling slip out. “What is that?”

I couldn’t bring myself to face him. I couldn’t let him see how messed up I was.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered, but even I knew the words were a lie. I yanked my sleeve back down, trying to hide the evidence, but I could already feel his gaze on me. He wasn’t fooled.

Dean’s footsteps came closer, steady but cautious, like he was walking on eggshells, trying to give me space, but not willing to walk away.

“It’s not nothing,” he said, his voice gentle, but the weight of his concern was unmistakable. “You can’t just hide it, Y/N. Not from me.”

I swallowed hard, my body trembling. I wanted to push him away. I wanted to run and hide, to lock myself back in my room where I didn’t have to face this. But I couldn’t. Dean wasn’t just standing there; he was right there, in front of me, watching me like he was waiting for me to fall apart. And I felt it. The tears, the anxiety, the need for him to help me, to save me from the mess I was turning into.

“I didn’t want you to ever find out,” I said, my voice breaking as I finally let the words escape. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak.”

Dean’s expression softened. His eyes, filled with something I could barely name—love? Pain? A mixture of both—never left mine.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick, like he was trying to hold back something raw, something painful. “You’re not weak. You’re not weak, and you never will be. I’ve seen the way you fight, even when it feels like you’re losing. You’ve been through hell, and you keep going. That’s strength. But you don’t have to go through this alone.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. It felt like they were slowly unraveling the walls I had built around myself. I didn’t want to cry, but I felt the tears threatening, my vision blurring. Dean stepped closer, his hand gently brushing through my hair, guiding my head to rest against his chest.

“I know,” he murmured, his hand warm and comforting on the back of my neck. “I know it hurts. I know the darkness gets so damn heavy that you can’t breathe. I know the thoughts are loud and painful and don’t stop. But you don’t have to carry it alone.”

I closed my eyes, letting the feeling of his arms around me ground me, even just for a moment. The pressure in my chest eased, just slightly, but enough to make me feel like I could breathe again. “I’m scared, Dean,” I whispered into his shirt, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Dean pulled back just enough to look down at me, his hands gently cupping my face, wiping away the tear that had slipped down my cheek. His eyes softened even more, and he spoke with such certainty, such tenderness, it made my heart ache.

“You don’t have to fix everything right now,” he said, his voice unwavering, but full of warmth. “You don’t have to make it all better. You just have to let me help. You have to let me be here for you.”

I shook my head, the words caught in my throat. “I don’t deserve it,” I whispered. “I’m not worth saving.”

Dean’s face hardened with a kind of fierce determination, and before I could stop myself, I felt his hands pull me back into him, wrapping me in his arms, holding me close. His voice, low and steady, rumbled in my ear.

“Don’t you ever say that,” he said, the words like a vow. “You’re worth every bit of love, every bit of care, and every bit of protection I can give you. You don’t get to push me away. You don’t get to hide from me.” He squeezed me tighter. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m right here. I’ll be right here, for as long as you need me.”

I clung to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, his strength. His words wrapped around me like a security blanket, something solid in the chaos of everything I was feeling.

Dean pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll get through this together, okay?” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but full of love. “You don’t have to fight it alone. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

I nodded, my chest still tight, but the crushing weight inside me seemed a little more bearable with him here, holding me, loving me.

Dean’s hand gently cupped my face again, and his gaze softened even more, like he was seeing me—not just the pain I was going through, but me, Y/N. His sister.

“I know what it feels like,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ve been there, Y/N. I’ve been in that dark place, feeling like I was drowning. I’ve hurt, and I’ve lost myself in the darkness. I’ve been on the edge, thinking I couldn’t make it out. But I did. I pulled myself out. And you can, too. You are strong enough.”

My eyes widened at his words. I had always seen Dean as the strong one. The one who always knew what to do, always had the answers. But hearing him say he’d been where I was—that he understood—made the whole weight of it feel just a little bit lighter. He knew. And if he could get through it, maybe I could too.

“I’m not perfect, Y/N,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve stumbled. I’ve fallen. But I always get back up. And so will you. You’re not broken, and you don’t have to go through this alone.”

I could feel the sincerity in his voice, the way he meant every word, and in that moment, I realized just how much love and care he had for me. How much he understood what it was like to fight those demons, both inside your mind and in the world around you.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered again, his hand gently brushing through my hair as he pulled me back into his embrace, holding me like he would never let go. “We’re in this together. Always.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I believed him.

[bunnakit]

{cross posting from bluesky}

i feel so silly crying bc i'll no longer be writing fic but i feel like i'm grieving my fics i worked so hard on. today's update will be the last of any fanfic update from me for the foreseeable future.

what really solidified it for me was i put a sex scene in my recent fic update, it made sense for the story and what was going on but it didn't NEED to be there, i had put it in just to see if that would get more people to read it.

and it worked. i got several replies on my posts saying people were interested now. why did it take sex for you to be interested? it's a story full of rich world building and a complex plot about what it means to be 'human' but you wouldn't read it unless there was some dick in ass? that's not what the story is about.

so that really just frustrated me and made me realize that what i'm trying to accomplish isn't something well suited for a fanfic space that is largely just meant to be self indulgent fluff and porn. (at least in kpop fanfic spaces)

but yeah. i'm not doing it anymore. sorry for leaving these stories half finished. i'll probably just leave Buried Treasure and Afterimage on ao3 for now. Afterimage might get reworked into an original story and once it does i'll probably take it down but it'll be there for now.

i really appreciate anyone that supported my fics, even if it was quietly. i just don't think i fit into the fanfic space anymore or maybe i'm just too sensitive or not built for it idk.

thanks for having me. i'll still be around reading fanfics here and there but prob not to the same degree i used to.

all this being said, i'm not quitting WRITING. i'm just moving onto original works only, so you'll still see me being annoying about stuff and posting my writing, it'll just be 100% either from my own brain or an off shoot of a world my friend has built that i've been assisting with.

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

i'm here - 1.8k words

bf!patrick zweig x shy!socialite!reader

two fics in two days?? who even is this??

this is gossiping, girly, sweet soft boyfriend patrick zweig fic 😭😭😭😭

ok so basically in this one you're a socialite girl, socially anxious and shy, and you always have to go to your parents' events and have endless small talk to impress their friends. and you hate it. but this time, you have your sweet boyfriend patrick there, with his "zweig charm", to handle it for you.

fluff, soft!patrick zweig (as always w me), and just basically yeah. i imagined it as college era patrick zweig, and classes/academics get mentioned once, but in general it's not set in a super specific time period.

partially inspired by a conversation i had with @grimsonandclover and a bot that she made, so creds to the loml annie for that!! and for inspiring me to write patrick “one of the girls” zweig because he is very much present in this fic. and also a million thanks to @newrochellechallenger2019 for discussing the idea with me earlier <333

and i wrote this with fem!reader in mind, and like you wearing a dress and heels is mentioned, and patrick is taller than you, but if you ignore that this could generally be read as gender neutral? but do be aware of that!

ok that's it! i hope u enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

you'd always hated going to your parents' events. you were already shy and more on the introverted side, so having to spend the whole night in a crowded place full of your parents' coworkers and friends, and being expected to greet all of them and "make the rounds" felt like pure torture. the music was always bad, the guests were always obnoxious, and your social anxiety always went through the roof.

luckily for you, your boyfriend was the complete opposite. patrick zweig thrived in social settings, always having his loud, cocky persona on, and it seemed like he never ran out of things to say. so, when one of your parents' dreaded events was coming up, it was a no-brainer fro you to invite him as your plus-one. 

he always seemed to understand you, and your nonverbal cues, in a way that not even you could fully understand. he could always tell when you were anxious. 

so, there you were, in your bedroom, slipping on your red-bottomed heels in your silky black dress, patrick sitting on your bed waiting for you to get ready.

"i really, really don't want to go," you sigh, slipping on your shoes and sitting next to patrick on the bed. you lean your head on his shoulder as he puts his arm around you, rubbing circles on your back reassuringly. 

"you look nice. and it'll be fine, i'm here with you this time," he says gently, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "if you get overwhelmed, i can take over. i'll do all the talking."

you smile softly at his reassurances, resting against him for a moment before your parents call you down, saying that its time to leave. 

you get up, as patrick slips on his suit jacket, and intertwines his hand with yours as you walk down the stairs, and out of the house into the car that's taking you to the event. you sit in the third row with patrick, your parents in the row in front of you, as the driver begins to pull away to take you all to the gala.

the silence of the car is only interrupted by the sound of the heater blowing and your parent's quite, idle chatter. you leg bounces as you anxiously anticipate the event, going over names in your head and trying to craft the introduction and greeting you'll give everyone, like you're trying to memorize lines in a script. you look out the window, spacing out, when you feel patrick scooting from his seat on the opposite side of the row to the middle seat. he intertwines his hand with yours, lifting them to press a kiss to the back of your hand, whispering affirmations like "it's ok" and "i'm here" to you under his breath. 

you look over at him with a nervous smile, him meeting you with a wide grin. "i like that i get to take you to one of these," he whispers, quiet enough that no one else in the car could hear it, as his thumb rubs circles in your hand. "we can be judgey together, you know? i know how much you like to gossip about the outfits. i'll make it actually fun to be there, you know," he murmurued, his grin turning smug as he watched your anxiety break a little as you let out a quiet laugh. 

"yeah, yeah, sure," you whisper back, rolling your eyes withy a smile as you lean your head onto his shoulder. "i'm glad you're coming with me to this," you say sincerely, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head in response.

"of course i'm here. that's my job as a boyfriend isn't it?" he laughs, letting you relax against him, sitting comfortably in the silence of the car ride as you near the venue. "you look beautiful tonight, you know."

he feels you smile as you hide your face in his shoulder. even though you guys have bee dating for a while, you still get shy at patrick's compliments, and he loves it. 

you nuzzle into his shoulder, trying to find some peace in the quiet, as the car pstarts to park in front of the venue. the event is some sort of charity gala and auction, being held in the ballroom of some sort of museum. as you climb out of the car, patrick holding your hand as you climb out, you feel the cold winter air nipping at your skin. but patrick is quick, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in as you walk up to the door and go in. 

the music is boring and loud, and the lights are dim and blue. the chatter is dull and business-oriented around you, and you see your parents walking up to a group of "friends" with fake smiles pressed on their faces as you take patrick's hand, letting him guide you near a corner of the room.

"i hate it here already" you whisper to him, as he looks down at you with a sweet grin. "i know you do, baby," he says, placing his arms around your waist again, resting it there as you stand near the wall and look into the room. 

"god, that suit is ugly," patrick whispers to you, a cocky grin on his face as he motions toward a man is a vibrant purple velvet suit, brown shoes and a matching purple velvet tie. "who dressed him? who let him leave the house like that? they should be ashamed of themselves," patrick says, his voice getting a bit louder as he looks down at you, trying to read your face.

his smile grows wider when he sees you break into a soft smile, giggling under your breath. he himself didn't know too much about fashion, or care too much in general, but he knew the light gossip put you at ease, so he tried to learn from your preferences, memorizing the little fasion rules that you'd set. and, to be fair, even he could tell that the man's suit was fugly. 

you whisper back, "and that lady... she looks like she's pushing 70, wearing a sequin mini-dress to a black-tie charity event. what is she doing?" you say, your grin widening, as patrick squeezes your hip gently, both of you trying hard to stifle your laughter.

patrick bends down to press a kiss to your head, a force of habit of his, rubbing your back as you two look around the room, pointing out and nitpicking random outfits, or hairstyles, or lame song choices from the dj. 

“what's the point of even hiring a dj if he's this shitty?" you whisper up to patrick, your words engulfed in laughter as you try to get them out, "i could play better music for free, just give me an aux cord and a spotify playlist" you giggle, as patrick nods his head, laughing a little too loud for a formal event like this. 

"shhhh... people might look" you say, playfully scolding patrick as he looks down at you fondly. 

of course, the moment had to be interrupted by your parents waving you over to their little group of work friends, as you sigh, pressing a fake smile to your face and nodding as the group looks over at you. "fuck, not this again" you whisper through your teeth at patrick, trying your best to keep your smile from falling into a frustrated grimace. it wasn't that you disliked your parents, or their friends for that matter, but it always felt like the same routine every time. you getting singled out, asked about school, grilled about random future job prospects, as you slowly felt your insides cruble further into an anxiety-fueled despair as you repeat the same lines, over and over, to every other little group that your parents want to "show you off" to. 

but patrick just grabs your hand, squeezing it gently, pressing an easygoing samile onto his face, and nodding at you reassuringly. you're not sure what he means by that, but you know he's going to try and take caare of you like he always does. patrick zweig, always the charmer.

you greet the group, introducing patrick as your boyfriend, seeing his smile turn a little smug as you claim him.

you squeeze his hand as the adults around you start to ask questions, and you answer, trying to turn it into some sort of conversation instead of just an itnerview. and patrick follows along perfectly, using his "zweig charm" (as he calls it) to cover for you, squeezing your hand every so often as he talks you up to your parents friends, raving about the newest classes you're taking, and the advanced concepts you explain to him. he makes sure to give you space to speak whenever you want, always jumping in whenever you get overwhelmed, always able to keep up his social, smug act flawless, even when you get shy.

you finally get to a point where you're able to break off the conversation, smiling and excusing yourself from the circle, letting out a breath as you step away from your performance.

"that wasn't so bad," you say to patrick, hands still intertwined as you pull him to the edge of the room again, taking a breather from the crowd of people conversating about business and whatever, turning around to face in again and just get some time to talk with him. "but i still want to go home," you complain, a joking smile on your face, as the two of you stand at the edge of the room. 

you feel him pull you into his arms, your back pressed against his chest as he snakes his arm around your waist, both of you looking into the room. he towers over you like this, resting his chin on the top of your head as he holds you tightly.

"you're doing great, baby" he affirms, his voice soft and sweet. "the cocktail and dinner time will end soon anyways, so we can be done with small talking with everyone soon. when the auction starts we can just sit down and gossip again," he says in a low voice, giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds you. 

and the night continued like that, patrick holding your hand through it all, jumping into conversations when you got overwhelmed, letting you cling to him around the room. and every time your parents called you over to talk to some other friends, the process felt a little easier, a little lighter, because you had patrick there.

"always the charmer," you whispered at him, teasing, as you walked away from yet another conversation about your future and politics and whatnot, with some of your parents friends you couldn't even remember the names of anymore.

and when you sat at the table, as the speeches and charity auction started, you and patrick sat, whispering to each other quietly andf stifling laughter. 

and this night felt easier than any other event you'd had to go to before. because patrick was there for you, always. and as the night ended, and you walked out, you thought to yourself, "maybe these event's aren't always so torturous after all" 

:)))

[lezforsapphicwrites]

𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷?

pairing: elphaba thropp x glinda upland word count: 808 warnings: none summary: glinda sees her wife again after so long being apart but elphaba feels she doesn't deserve her love. (inspired by "would you fall in love with me again" from epic the musical)

Elphaba had changed in a way that she wouldn't want, Glinda thought.

The one she had known at Shiz was not the same as the Elphaba that was standing before her. Her eyes bore the horrors of the cruelty and harshness of their world. Shoulders slumped as the weight of her own expectations pulled her down to a void of neverending disappointments and losses.

And yet, she was still Elphie. Her Elphie.

The girl who cared about animals more than anyone would ever do. Who braved the mocking eyes of their peers as she moved to her own beat in the Ozdust Ballroom. Who fought against the true wicked of Oz, something she hadn't muster to do.

"You look different. You're eyes look tired." She tried to make it sound like teasing but her emotions betrayed her. Glinda took a deep breath. "Your frame is lighter. Your smile torn."

Elphaba looked away. Somehow that hurt more than the long period they had spent away from each other.

"Is it really you, my love?" Glinda reached out her hand, gently resting them on the girl's shoulder.

She thanked the heavens that Elphaba didn't flinch away from her touch. She didn't think she would survive that. Glinda needed her warmth, to wrap her arms around her and never let go. But Elphie needed space and she would give anything to her.

"I am not the woman you fell in love with. Not the girl you once adored," Elphaba muttered. "I am not your kind and gentle wife, and I am not the love you knew before."

Glinda felt her arms weakening at the loss of wamrth when Elphaba moved across the room. The light from the large, circular window had made the woman's tears sparkle as they fell. Needles pricked her heart at the sight of them. Elphie was hurting herself because of her, she thought. Fearing that her wife was burning her cheeks with her own tears.

Before she could rush to wipe them away, Elphaba spoke, "Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done?"

Yes, she wanted to say. But Elphaba continued, "The things I cannot change. Would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting for love."

Nothing was ever going to be more true than the love she had for her. Not even the Wizard could find a spell to change that. In this room, where Elphaba was closer than she had ever been, she wasted no more time and walked to where the woman stood.

Glinda gently lifted her face and smiled. "Don't cause yourself pain over me," She said, wiping the tears away before they could burn her even more. "And don't cry. It blurs my view of your eyes."

For every night she longed for her Elphie to be beside her, to tangle her arms around her frame and feel her warmth, and for every time a fire ingnited in her chest when an Ozian would make a hurtful remark about her wife, she thought as she pressed her lips against Elphaba's. Every second of it engraved in her mind to look back on for years to come.

They pulled away, gasping for air that they didn't need when they were in each others arms. Elphaba was holding on to her, keeping her as close as their bodies would allow, and that was enough.

Glinda tucked a piece of hair behind the woman's ear. "I will fall in love with you, over and over again. I don't care how, where, or when. No matter how long it's been, you're mine." She confessed, blinking away the tears that blurred her vision. She needed to see the face of her love clearly.

"Don't tell me you're not the same person. You're always my wife and I've been waiting for you." Glinda cried, clutching the hem of Elphaba's dress tightly. Don't leave me, she thought. As long as you're here, I'll be fine.

For some reason, it felt like they were saying goodbye. Not like the one they shared at the tower of the Wizard's castle. This one felt final, like she was never seeing her again.

Glinda shook her head. No, it wasn't. They were going to make things right and tell the people the truth. Perhaps then, everyone would know that Elphaba wasn't the wicked one and they could be in each other's arms for all eternity. No more fleeing and hiding.

But even if Elphie were to flee once more, she would join her. Damn the consequences. Yes, she would not repeat the same mistake she had done in the Emerald City.

As she pulled Elphaba closer, she forgot about the farm girl that was trapped beneath them nor did she notice the bucket of water hidden at the edge of the room.

a/n: first post! this is pretty short cuz i worked on it too quickly. working on another one atm!

more of my works here: masterlist