#where they would just make you do 8 10 or even 12 hours with no break

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[unluckystreak]

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I HAVE A 9 HOUR SHIFT TWO WEEKS FROM NOW

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

[bakugoswifee]

Bakugo k. hc's losing his girlfriend .

Warning- none

angst, that's mainly it. + Bring tissues .

1. He Becomes Quiet & Withdrawn – The loud, brash, explosive Bakugo everyone knew is gone. He doesn’t yell anymore, doesn’t argue, doesn’t snap at people the way he used to. He just… exists.

2. Stops Hanging Out with Friends – Kirishima, Mina, Denki, and Sero try their best to get him out, but he refuses. When he does show up, he barely talks. Just sits there, eyes unfocused, lost in his own world.

3. Blames Himself – Even if it wasn’t his fault, he convinces himself that he could’ve done something. That if he had just been stronger, faster, better—he could have saved you. It eats him up inside.

4. Still Talks to You – Late at night, when he’s alone, he’ll talk out loud like you’re still there. Telling you about his day, the stupid things his friends did, how much he misses you. He hates how quiet the house is without you.

5. Wears Your Stuff – Keeps one of your hoodies in his closet, still smelling like you. He won’t admit it, but he sleeps in it sometimes. If you had a necklace, bracelet, or ring, he either wears it or keeps it in his pocket.

6. Keeps Your Room/Side of the Bed the Same – He doesn’t change anything. Your clothes stay where you left them, your favorite mug is still in its spot, and he refuses to move your pillow. It’s like he’s waiting for you to come back.

7. Gets Lost in Memories – Sometimes, he catches himself smiling at an old picture of you two before reality crashes down. Other times, he zones out completely, trapped in memories of your laugh, your voice, the way you used to roll your eyes at him.

8. Still Cooks Your Favorite Meal – Every once in a while, he makes your favorite dish, but he never eats it. Just stares at it for a while before pushing it aside. He just wants to feel like you’re still around.

9. Sleeps on the Couch Instead of the Bed – He can’t sleep in your shared bed without you. It’s too big, too empty. So he crashes on the couch most nights, pretending it doesn’t bother him.

10. Loses His Temper in Fights – On the battlefield, he’s reckless. Fighting harder, pushing himself past his limits, because what does it matter anymore? He’s angry—at the world, at himself, at whatever took you away.

11. Can’t Stand Hearing Your Name – If someone brings you up, he tenses. He either shuts down completely or storms off. He wants to talk about you, but it hurts too much.

12. Refuses to Cry in Front of People – He keeps it together around others, acting like he’s fine. But late at night, alone in the dark, the tears come. And he hates himself for it.

13. Talks to Your Grave – Whenever he gets overwhelmed, he visits your grave, sitting there for hours. Sometimes he talks. Sometimes he just sits in silence, staring at your name, gripping the headstone like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

14. Doesn’t Celebrate His Birthday Anymore – He used to love it when you planned surprises for him, made him a cake, gave him your dumb little handmade gifts. Now? He doesn’t even acknowledge it.

15. Keeps His Phone on Do Not Disturb, But Still Scrolls Through Your Messages – He won’t respond to anyone, but he rereads old texts from you, listening to your voice memos over and over again, just to hear you one more time.

16. Doesn’t Know How to Move On – Everyone tells him you’d want him to be happy, to live his life. But he doesn’t know how. Because to him, life without you doesn’t feel like living at all.

Extra :

People just didn’t get it.

No matter how much time passed, no matter how many times his friends told him he should "try to move on," Bakugo couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He already had the love of his life, and the world ripped you away from him.

So when Kirishima—the dumbass—thought it would be a good idea to introduce him to someone new, Bakugo already knew how this was gonna go. "Hey, man, I just want you to meet her," Kirishima said, rubbing the back of his neck. "No pressure, just—" "I ain’t interested.". "You don’t even know her yet!".

"And I don’t need to."

But before he could walk off, the girl was already there, all smiles and nervous energy. "Hi, Bakugo! I’ve heard so much about you." He barely glanced at her. "Tch. Good for you?". Kirishima nudged him hard in the ribs. "Dude, be nice." Bakugo clenched his jaw, his patience already wearing thin. "So," the girl tried again, "your friends tell me you’re a pro-hero. That must be exciting!". He didn’t answer. Just exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. "Uh… I was actually hoping maybe we could—". "Fuck off." The table went dead silent. Kirishima sighed like he knew this was a bad idea. The girl’s face fell, but Bakugo didn’t care. He wasn’t about to sit here and pretend to entertain the idea of someone else.

He turned on his heel and walked off without another word, hands stuffed in his pockets. The ring he still wore on a chain around his neck felt heavy, like it was reminding him who he really belonged to.

It was you. It would always be you.

Dividers! - credits @junabuggy 🤍

Sorry this took so long, I really needed a break and was stressed out. But I hope you enjoyed it!

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Video Clips of Sweetheart's Pregnancy - Third Trimester (Chris's POV)

First Trimester

Second Trimester

♡ 'Where tf are you??' - video length: 6 seconds

Chris pans the camera over the dashboard of his car, giving a clear view of the sun setting ahead of him. His emotion were in a whirlwind – his babymomma just found out caught him red-handed texting another bitch and he had been driving round the last hour trying to figure out where the fuck the uber driver dropped her off at. Over thirty unanswered calls and fifteen text messages he's sent and still no reply. Chris lets out a huff, "this is bullshit Y/N," before ending the video and pressing send.

♡ 'Come outside' - video length: 12 seconds

After finally putting two and two together, Chris finds your location – your best friend's house. At this point, he was pissed – pissed that you weren't replying, pissed that you would rather run from the situation than work through it. More so pissed at himself that he put the two of you in this position. It was his fault the two of you were in this mess. Chris holds down the record button, swiping to the left and zooming in on your bestie's house. His voice rugged and raspy, "I knocked like five times – I know you're in there. Just come outside so we can talk," he double taps the screen to show his face. His messy hair and tear-stained cheeks filling up the screen, "please," emotion seeps thru the cracks of his voice before the video ends the video.

♡ 'Camping out here for the night 😋' - video length: 18 seconds

Chris didn't go home that night. He was determined to show you he was dedicated to get you back, if he had to stay parked outside for weeks he would. Anything he had to do to get you back. Too bad he let his emotional decision making get the best of him – clearly pissed you were ignoring his every attempt to get your attention. Chris lets the pettiness take over, making sure to recline his seat back and kick his feet up on the dash. The base of the music bumping through his speakers as he hits record, the flash illuminating throughout his car as he zooms in on a nearby neighbor standing on their porch, noticeably staring at his car. Lucky for him, the tint was 5%. He smirks to himself as he sends the snapchat.

♡ 'I'm sorry' - video length: 8 seconds

Eventually, you give in to his constant calls and text. Chris was persistent and he wasn't letting up anytime soon. Once the kid set his mind to something, there was no changing it. He had been camped outside of your best friend's house for days, not daring to move an inch. Worried he might miss the opportunity to see you, his face fills the frame as he presses record, his bloodshot eyes and messy hair standing out like a sore thumb. Sniffling as he looks into the camera, "please jus' talk to me, Y/N – I know, I know I fucked up," pain weaved through his words, "I'm sorry," and a soft sob escapes his chest before he looks away from the camera, ending the video.

♡ 'Pls reply' - video length: 10 Seconds

Clutching the Chinese takeout bag to his chest, Chris holds down the record button has he approaches your bestie's front door. Even if the two of you were apart, it didn't stop him from being there for you. He tried his best to tend to your every need and want, as much as you'd let him. When he got a text from you at six in the morning, explaining how you couldn't sleep, and Bear was craving crab rangoon. Chris jumped on the chance – anything for his babymomma, right? Extending his arm out to show him setting the brown paper bag on the welcome mat, he throws a hand out defensively after setting it down, "I come in peace," he jokes while carefully backing up, acting as if the Chinese takeout bag was a ticking time bomb. You can hear him chuckle softly before he flips the camera around, revealing his rough expression and unshaven face. Chris gives the camera a small, forced smile, "love you," he blows you a kiss before ending the video.

♡ 'I miss you' - video length: 3 Seconds

Chris was losing his mind. Yeah, sure, you were responding to him, but it wasn't the same. All the replies were dry, like you didn't have any interest in talking to him which wasn't wrong. Every time you spoke to him, flashbacks and what ifs flooded your brain, making it impossible to focus on the big picture ahead of you – a picture perfect family. Chris looks into the camera, forcing a stale smile before ending the video. It was short and sweet, but you could tell by the look on his face he was losing hope.

♡ 'Thinking about you 🥵' - video length: 9 seconds NSFW!!

One thing Chris missed the most was being able to wake up next to you. Your absence only making him dream about you more than he already did, leaving him disappointed when he woke each morning to see you weren't there – and pained when he noticed the raging hard on poking through his boxer, thanks to you and the sex-crazed dreams you always induced on him. Chris lets out a breathy sigh, "fuck," he grumbles before reaching for his phone. His eyes widen as the sight of an unopened snapchat message from you, his fingers working at lightning speed to open it – "good morning" – is all it said. A small frown pulls at his lips until the idea places itself in his head. A devious smirk replacing his frown as he double taps your name, opening up his snapchat camera. The flash casts a bright glo over his dimly light bedroom, the morning sun peering through the curtains in the process. Chris aims the camera at his aching cock, so hard it looked painful. A soft grunt can be heard behind the camera as he wraps a strong hand around his length, gripping it firmly before ending the video. That'd show her what she's missing, right?!

♡ 'Lemme see my son pls??' - video length: 6 seconds

Chris sports freshly washed hair, water droplets forming at his ends and dripping down to the towel draped around his shoulders. He sighs, hitting the record button, plastering the fakest goofy smile on his face. Being the life of the party, he didn't want you to see him upset even though it had been inevitable lately. Chris quickly ends the video, typing the caption "lemme see my son pls??" before hitting send.

♡ ‘Please call him … I’m begging’ - video length: 10 seconds

"Chris," Matt calls from the foot of Chris' bed, "you have to get up kid," recording him from his own phone. Chris was a sad excuse for a man at the moment. He would eat, shower, shave – nothing. All he did was stay in bed, only getting up when his bladder told him he absolutely had to. Matt took a lot of pity on him, unlike Nick. And Matt, taking on the relationship counselor role, needed to make the situation better. Chris's body wrapped up in his thick comforter, you wouldn't be able to tell it was him if you couldn't already identify his bedsheets in a split second. You can hear him let out a loud groan, tossing the covers back and scowling at his brother, "I'm not leaving this bed until my wife tells me to," he snaps before collapsing back onto his bed cocooning himself in the blanket again. Matt snorts, "okay, geez – Mr. cranky pants," before ending the video and typing the caption, "please call him ... I'm begging"

♡ 'He reeks' - video length: 8 seconds

Nick – on the other hand – wasn't one to show a lot of sympathy to Chris. He knew what his brother did was wrong and it didn't help that you and Nick were really close when it happened. He tried not to hold a grudge but sometimes he couldn't help but show his brother tough love. Nick snatches the blankets off of Chris' balled up figure, "get up." Only to get a groan in response, "seriously – if you don't get up in shower, I'm calling the police. I can smelly your stinky ass from the hallway!" He sends you the video, only for you to reply with a said face, typing "don't talk to my man like that" as a caption.

♡‧₊˚ Chey's Note - Since I got a lot of good feedback on the last two video clips I did! 😋 I plan on breaking it into two parts, the next part will be Sweetheart's version! I hope everyone likes it, don't forget to send me requests/suggestions! <3

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Babydaddy!Chris Bot

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |15 - Final|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Everything happened so fast, first she was getting her inhaler, then next thing she knew Amber was shooting Liv in the head. Tara didn’t think when she grabbed Amber’s arm, she just was trying to save Sam and then you. Tara had spent most of her time duck taped in the closet until Sam rescued her. She had wanted to go find you, but Sam wouldn’t let her, she said they needed a plan. Their plan worked, after Richie and Amber’s little monologue Amber came to get her again, finally separating the two and allowing Tara and Sam to make their move.

While Sam took out Richie, Tara handled Amber. She shot her best friend in the head. She didn’t even hesitate to do it. She did it partly because Amber was running at her sister, Gale, and Sidney with a knife, but another part of her just wanted her dead. She hadn’t fully processed it yet, but she knew Richie was with Sam the night she was attacked, the night that started all this, that meant Amber attacked her. She also wasn’t stupid, she knew Amber didn’t like you, she didn’t think Amber’s hatred was also murderous but now she knew, Amber was the one that had hurt you, Amber was the one who killed Dewey.

She couldn’t get the image of what happened out of her head. When she didn’t see you with the others she ran into the kitchen, seeing you lying in a pool of your own blood. Your shirt was soaked in blood, it seemed Amber stabbed you over a dozen times. Your right pant leg was also soaked in blood where Amber had shot you.

Despite all the blood Tara didn’t hesitate to drop to your side, ignoring the pain of her own injuries. You were still conscious, looking directly up at her but it didn’t seem as if you were really seeing her. Tara kept whispering to you but there was no reaction, you just kept staring at her with love then confusion. She tried to get you to stay awake, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Tara waited impatiently as the paramedics came. She had to be held back by Sam as they loaded you onto a backboard, into the ambulance, and then took off. Tara wanted to ride with you, but the medics refused and made her get in her own ambulance. She was vaguely aware of Chad and Mindy being loaded up as well, but her mind was only on you.

She couldn’t lose you; she didn’t know what she would do without you. You were the only one who was always there for her, the one person who loved her unconditionally, she couldn’t handle losing you. You were too good for her, she always knew that, but now it was clear. Her best friend tried to kill you and wanted to make you suffer just because Tara loved you and not her. You didn’t deserve any of the pain Amber and Richie inflicted on you, you deserved so much better than all of them, you’d didn’t deserve to die because of them.

Tara was sitting in the waiting room; she had been there ever since she was discharged. You were still in surgery, and they wouldn’t let her see you. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it was like for you, you were at her side the second she woke up, you had to wait around for hours not knowing if she’d live or die. The only difference between you waiting and her waiting was that she had Sam by her side, you had been all alone.

“Ms. Weathers?” a doctor asked, snapping Tara out of her thoughts.

She instantly sat up, Gale sat across from them, she had been there since getting herself looked at as well. Tara nor Sam hadn’t said a word to Gale, they barely acknowledged them when Sidney came up to sit with Gale. She knew you wanted nothing to do with Gale but the one good thing about having Gale there was that they could get answers. Gale was your birth mother, she was family, the doctor had no problem informing Gale of your condition, he had refused to do so when Tara asked for an update on you.

“Yes?” Gales said, standing up on shaking legs.

“It was touch and go for a while,” the doctor began. “But she’ll make it.” Tara released a breath; you were going to be okay. “Her previous stitches were ripped open, she was stabbed fifteen times,” Gale tried to hold back a sob. Tara couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth, you had lost so much blood. “She was shot in the knee, luckily the bullet was a through and through. It will take a lot of physical therapy but I’m hopeful she’ll be able to walk without much issue or assistance.”

“Can we see her?”

“Yes,” the doctor nodded. “But I’d like to keep it to only one or two people.”

“Thank you.”

Tara’s eyes fell to the floor when the doctor left. You were stabbed so many times, even more than she was. You were shot, you were actually shot, Amber shot you in the fucking knee. Tara couldn’t even imagine the kind of physical therapy you’d need, even if the doctor thought you’d be okay.

“You should go,” Gale said, snapping her out of her thoughts. Tara looked up at her, furrowing her brow. “She’s definitely not going to want to see me,” Gale gave a sad smile. “You should be there when she wakes up.”

Tara nodded, not able to find her voice. She looked back at Sam to make sure it was okay. Sam nodded and offered her a soft smile. “I’ll be right here,” she whispered.

Tara nodded and hesitantly made her way down the hall. She knew it was over, but she was at ease knowing Sam would be just in the waiting room if she needed anything. She didn’t intend to leave your side though, not until you woke up, probably not even then. You were by her side the entire time and she would do the same for you.

Tara let out a shaky breath as she rested her hand on the door handle to your room. She finally pushed the handle down, struggling as she tried to squeeze through the door with her crutches. The doors were heavy, she was regretting not asking Sam to walk her to your room. When she finally managed to get into the room without falling, she was instantly met with the sight of you unconscious in the hospital bed.

She made her way to your bedside, looking down at your broken body. You were in a hospital gown; she could see the bandage around your arm from when you had first been slashed with the knife. She could make out the bandaging around your shoulder where you were stabbed peaking out from the gown by your neck. Your leg was wrapped up, propped up with something hanging from the ceiling to elevate your leg but also prevent you from moving it. Based on how you looked at the moment it would be a while before you could properly bend your knee again. The one thing she couldn’t see was all the stab wounds under your gown, she knew they were there though.

She gently plopped herself down in the chair by your bed side, scooting it as close to you as best as she could. Then she just stared at you, you didn’t look in pain at least, you were unconscious and were probably being pumped full of all kinds of meds, but it brought her comfort knowing you didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment.

She wondered what went through your head as you sat at her bedside waiting for her to wake up just a few days ago. She couldn’t imagine what was going through your head because her mind was spiraling. All Tara wanted to do was get up and pace around, she wanted you to open your eyes so she could see that you were okay. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, the exhaustion from the past few days catching up to her but she didn’t want to sleep knowing you might wake up.

You had a TV in the room, but she didn’t bother turning it on, she didn’t even want to try flipping through channels to put something on in the background. She slouched down in the chair, resting her head on the back cushion as she kept her broken leg stretched out. She kept her gaze on you, the light rise and fall of your chest being the only thing she could focus on, she could hear the steady beep of your heartrate monitor as her eyes got too heavy for her to keep open anymore.

Tara’s eyes snapped open, she winced as she jumped awake, jostling her leg a little too much. She looked around trying to figure out what startled her until her eyes landed on you. She furrowed her brow until her eyes widened at seeing you looking back at her.

“You’re awake!” she sat up in her chair. She was sure she would have jumped to her feet if she could. “How long have you been awake?” She was mentally kicking herself; she should have been awake and alert when you woke up, what if you had needed something.

“Just a minute,” you whispered. Your eyelids still seemed heavy with sleep; Tara wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out again a minutes later. “Are you okay?”

Tara let out a small chuckle, but it quickly turned into a sob. You got stabbed and shot, you were literally on the brink of death, and yet you were asking if she was okay. You frowned and tried to sit up once she started sobbing, as if you wanted to comfort her. She was quick to wipe her tears when she saw you drop your head back down onto the pillow, pinching your eyes shut as you gritted your teeth, trying to hold in your scream. She didn’t want you straining yourself just to try and comfort her.

“Take it easy,” she ordered. A few more tears fell but she ignored them, it was her turn to make sure you were okay. You opened your mouth to argue with her. “I’m fine. You’re the only one I’m worried about.”

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

“I thought I lost you,” her voice cracked. “There was so much blood, it just kept coming, there was nothing I could do,” she shook her head. The image of you bleeding out on the kitchen floor was forever burned in her head. “They didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

“Hey,” you whispered. You moved your hand across the bed like you were trying to reach out to her, but you winced at the slight movement.

Tara didn’t hesitate to reach over and grab your hand with her good hand. She closed her eyes and let out another sob, your grip was weak, but she could feel you. “I’m right here,” you said again. “I’m okay.” Tara nodded, taking in your words, you were right there, she was touching you, she could feel you, you were okay.

“Now, is it over?” Tara looked up, she didn’t miss the fear in your eyes, you were trying to be strong and comfort her, but you had been bleeding out, you had no idea what happened, you had no idea if Ghostface was still out there.

“It’s over,” Tara nodded. “I’m okay, Sam’s okay, Gale and Sidney.” Your jaw clenched slightly when she said Gale’s name, but she decided not to comment on it, you had enough to deal with.

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re going to make it.” Tara’s full focus had been on you, but she managed to get updates on Chad and Mindy while at the hospital, their mom had been kind enough to inform her. She had yet to visit them, but they were sharing a hospital room, awake, and already arguing with each other.

“Richie and…” you swallowed, wincing before you could say her name, Tara wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain or because Amber was the one who had done this to you.

“Dead,” Tara said, some lingering anger dripping into her tone. Your eyes widened at that. “Sam took care of Richie, and I shot Amber.”

You remained quiet for a few minutes. She knew you weren’t friends with Amber, and you never seemed to trust Richie, but it was still a lot for someone to process. “Are you okay?”

Tara looked down, thinking to herself, she really didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. She knew she shouldn’t be okay, there was no reason she should be okay, no one would be okay after what they just went through. “Yeah,” she tried to sound convincing.

“Tar-”

“Can we talk about something else?” she rubbed the back of your hand, giving you a sad smile. The last few days had been filled with nothing but darkness and pain, she just wanted something good.

You stared into her eyes for a moment, clearly searching for something. She was hoping you’d just let it be for now and let her change the subject. “Where do you want to go?” you finally asked.

Tara furrowed her brow until a genuine smile broke out on her face. “New York,” she said easily. She wanted to get the hell out of the small town and as far away from Woodsboro as possible.

“Sounds perfect.”

 Tara got up from her chair only to sit on the edge of your bed. She ran her fingers through your hair as she looked down into your eyes. “I still want to graduate first.”

You let out an exaggerated groan, but it quickly turned into a chuckle. “Then we can finally live out our dream,” she whispered as she leaned down until her lips were barely brushing against yours.

“I’m pretty sure your sister will be living with us,” you whispered back.

“Don’t ruin it,” Tara sighed. She smiled as she finally connected her lips to yours, giving you a long, yet gentle kiss.

She knew you were right. Even if the two of you moved to New York she was sure her sister would follow. Just as she knew that Sam would never settle for letting her live on her own with you. It wasn’t exactly like the two of you always talked about but having her sister back and getting to have a life with you still seemed pretty perfect.

“I love you,” Tara whispered when she pulled away.

“Love you too,” you whispered back.

“Now, get some sleep.”

She continued to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as your eyes slowly closed. “Lay with me,” you whispered.

Tara looked around until deciding to grab the chair she had been sitting in and dragged it until it was pressed up against your bed. She slipped off the bed and back into the chair. As much as she wanted to lie with you the two of you each had an injured leg, and you couldn’t move without your various stab wounds causing you pain. Tara settled for resting her head on the mattress at an awkward angle and holding your hand.

She rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, listening to your steady breathing as she closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and she was right behind you. This was the first time since she was attacked that she closed her eyes and wasn’t worried about what new horror she might wake up to.

Taglist: @r-3-becca

[shanastoryteller]

Feliz San Valentín!!! 💖💖💖 May I have some more time travel JC? Maybe about his relationship with the Nie brothers? I'm obsessed, THANK YOU

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Nie Mingjue doesn't have anything against Wei Cheng.

He's not nice, exactly, or soft. Or demure or conciliatory or amenable or any of the thousand different ways there are to describe someone who couldn't out stubborn a mule. Which means he really shouldn't be any sort of acceptable spouse to a sect leader.

Father's marriage to his mother had been arranged. He has dim memories of the woman who raised them, but in all of them she's soft. A strong cultivator, of course, with enough skill with a saber to make her a suitable wife, but by all accounts her personality hadn't matched her sword style. Huaisang's mother was the same, with a warm and courteous relationship with Father and nothing more. He'd liked her. She'd been kind towards him, treating him as her own, but that had just made it worse.

When she'd fallen ill and died, he'd just lost a mother for a second time, and it didn't even feel fair for him to be as gutted as he was, not with Huaisang sobbing into his side. She hadn't even been his mother. Even though he had more and clearer memories of her taking care of him than he had of his own mother, which felt like one more betrayal.

Wei Cheng isn't anyone's mother.

He's arrogant and irreverant and he's raised an arrogant and irreverant son. Wei Wuxian is even more prone to trouble than Huaisang, and it's not like Nie Mingjue can just leave him to it anymore than he can Huaisang, so he ends up in trouble too, getting chased through the woods and hiding from angry stall owners and giving the slip to his own disciples because Wei Wuxian cheerfully taking his punishments is even more annoying than how Huaisang whines through them and -

"Hiding from your brother?"

He looks up, startled, and sees Wei Cheng standing next to him. He hadn't noticed him approaching. He hadn't even known that Wei Cheng knew where this place was, but he suppose he can't be too surprised. He does have a habit of sticking his nose into everything.

"No," he says immediately, then cringes. "A little."

He really doesn't want to hear him talk about birds again. He wishes Wei Wuxian would stop catching them for Huaisang. What kind of respectable cultivator collects birds?

Wei Cheng's face goes fond and wistful and a little sad. He forgets, sometimes, that Wei Cheng isn't really Wei Wuxian's father, that he's his uncle, or something. Was Wei Changze his younger brother? Nie Mingjue thinks of something happening to Huaisang or Wei Wuxian when he's not there to protect them and it makes his heartrate pick up. It's terrible, for Wei Cheng to lose his brother like that, and he hadn't meant to remind him of it. Nie Mingjue wants to change the subject but doesn't know what to say. "Um. Did you need something?"

"Hm?" His eyes clear. "Oh, yeah. Your father's looking for you."

Nie Mingjue can't hold back a sigh. He just wants a couple hours without someone needing something from him.

Wei Cheng doesn't scold him. Instead his lips twitch and he says, "Forget it. He can talk to you later. Don't stay out past dinner."

He startles. "Are you sure? Won't he be mad?"

Father doesn't get mad often. But he does expect to be obeyed.

Wei Cheng rolls his eyes. "If he does, it'll be at me. He can yell at me if he wants."

Father doesn't really yell. But he and Wei Cheng do fight a lot.

"Thanks," he says, relaxing. That's another difference. Neither his mother nor Huaisang's would have ever directly gone against his father, not even on something this small. It just wasn't their place. It's not Wei Cheng's either, but it seems like no one's told him that. If Father didn't want Wei Cheng taking liberties, he shouldn't have offered him so many.

Wei Cheng reaches out, squeezing his shoulder, hand broad and warm and reassuring. "Don't worry about it. Stay out of trouble."

There's a teasing lilt to the last part, because it's always Huaisang and Wuxian getting him in trouble, but that just makes Nie Mingjue laugh, sharp an unexpected.

Wei Cheng is nothing like his father is supposed to want.

But he's not so bad.

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH10

Daddy waits for you to come back from your adventures with Mommy, and he's not happy... but neither is Mommy. Can you help reconcile the two?

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Explicit language. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Dom/sub undertones. Pet names. Aftercare talk with Daddy. Hurt/Comfort. Jealousy? Fluff. Is kissing considered smut? (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 4.6k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: RECAP: Reader (we call her Pumpkin) is in her 20s, has hair and female genitalia, suffers from depression and anxiety, and has agreed to become the little girl/submissive to a couple she's supposed to call Mommy and Daddy, who are in their early/late thirties. (I now have Pinterest boards - if you'd like some visuals/moodboards to your reading! This one made by a lovely reader, and this one that I made. Enjoy!)Daddy POV incoming, by the way!

Chapter 9 🔷️ Chapter 10 🔷️ Chapter 11

Noah paced the living room, stealing glances at his watch more often than he cared to admit. He felt antsy. Isabella wasn't back yet, but his biggest concern centered around you. He'd known she would take you on another Girls' Day Out, but if he'd known she would take you to that little cafe of hers, he would have whisked you away again. (Maybe calling her driver hadn't been the best idea, sometimes ignorance is bliss, but he was too worried to not ask around where you were.)

Isabella's collection of pets had always irked him, how she kept pulling in more and more girls for her nasty little schemes, even convincing some of his former subs to join the ranks, it felt a little bit like betrayal. But maybe he just didn't like it because he was never allowed inside. Female-only. What a waste. He understood the wish for safety and to be amongst themselves, but it all felt a little excessive. His worst fear now was that she had lured you in as well.

You were supposed to be their little girl, not another pawn to entertain the bored housewife from next door. He hoped she didn't make you do anything you didn't want. You'd only been with them for what, three days now? It must already be so overwhelming for you, partly because of him as well, but to see behind Isabella's friendly facade so quickly might be too much for you.

He'd been surprised how quickly she had adjusted to being nice and caring, a side of her he hadn't seen often, but she'd grown into her role of Mommy so fast, it had been quite impressive. Now she only had to stick to it, a trait she wasn't particularly known for. The woman could switch faces faster than he could blink sometimes. A strange talent, one you hopefully would never get to experience, at least not anytime soon.

If it were up to him, then he'd keep you in your room, hold you in his arms, spend hours, days, weeks in bed with you, and pamper the hell out of you. You wouldn't have to leave the house, unless you wanted to, and he wouldn't subject you to tiring shopping trips or beautification marathons or anything else unsettling to you. He just wanted to cuddle. And fuck. And cuddle some more. To make you feel better, to ease your worries. And because he couldn't get enough of you.

He was just rounding the kitchen island for the umpteenth time when he heard the click of the lock. You're back! Quickly crossing the kitchen, he entered the foyer the moment Isabella pulled you into the house after her, behind her the driver laden with large bags. She met Noah's gaze, fighting an eye-roll he was sure, while he forced himself to wait by the stairs, giving you space, waiting for you to come to him.

But you didn't come. You stood a little awkwardly next to Isabella, chewing on your lip, your cheeks flushed, your eyes flickering over to him, but then focusing on the floor beneath your feet. He frowned and waited, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched your Mommy instruct the driver to bring the bags upstairs, before she looked at you, caressed your blooming cheek and nodded. And only then would you walk towards him, your head bowed, looking at him from under your lashes.

He relaxed, smiling softly as you approached. “Hello, Daddy,” you whispered, timidly looking up at him.

His arms were around you in no time. “Hey pumpkin, I've missed you,” he cooed into your ear as he lifted you up, hugging you tightly. You squirmed in his hold, before he shifted you, one arm under your rear, your pelvis pressing into his hip, legs falling open, your arms slowly finding the courage to snake around his shoulders. “Did you have a nice day?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, finally warming up to him again. Whatever Isabella had put you through, it clearly influenced how easy it had been for you to be around him. He sighed, kissing the top of your head.

He held you close, feeling your soft breaths against his skin, when your Mommy chimed in once more. “Three days, Noah,” she told him, staring at him as she started ascending the stairs.

A noise of confirmation left his throat. His eyes searched your bare arms until he saw the band-aid on the right one. Too bad. But he'd already waited three days, he could wait three more until he could finally sink his cock into your tight little cunt, filling you up like he promised you he would, without having to worry about getting you pregnant.

“Did it hurt, pumpkin?” he asked quietly as he carried you into the kitchen, gently setting you down on the counter before he looked down at you with a smile.

You gave him a shrug, but couldn't meet his eyes. “It was okay,” you mumbled.

He carefully rubbed his palm over your arm, feeling the slight bump of the implant under your skin. “My brave girl,” he whispered, leaning down a little. “It'll be all worth it, trust me.” Your lips twitched, even more so when he wrapped his hands around your waist and teased his thumbs against your ribs, coaxing a little giggle out of you as he tickled you.

“Daddy!” you shriek-laughed, squirming against him.

He let go of you and grabbed your face, bending down to capture your parted lips for a quick but intense kiss, the short taste of you not enough to sate his own urges, but a nice preview of what was to come.

“So, what did you and Mommy do today, hm?” he asked nonchalantly, leaning back up, his hands caressing your warm face.

“After the doctor, we had lunch,” you started, pursing your lips as you tried to remember, your cheeks flooding with warmth as you did. “And then we... uh... we went to... Lady Noir.” He raised his eyebrows at that. “And Mommy bought some... things... and then we... we went to... a cafe...”

Keeping it vague, hm? Did she tell you to do so or was it your choice to stay away from the details? Were you too embarrassed to admit you went to a sex shop and a kinky pet cafe? Probably. He wanted to learn more, but he didn't want to push you either. In the end, it didn't matter, you were back now, back in his arms, and tomorrow was his turn again.

“Sounds fun,” he said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Was it fun?”

You looked up at him, face heating up even more under the gentle rubbing of his thumbs. A slow nod into his hands told him you at least enjoyed yourself a bit, but you did seem a little hesitant about it. Understandable. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for an innocent girl to be dragged into a sex shop and meeting the intimidating owner, and getting to see a bunch of masked and collared girls afterwards.

“Remember, pumpkin, if you ever feel uncomfortable, you have to tell us, okay? You're allowed to say no.” You're not a pet, he wanted to add, but kept it to himself.

You nodded, holding his gaze. “I know, Daddy,” you whispered, giving him a shy smile. He bent down again and pressed his forehead to yours, watching you. Then he felt your fingers brushing against his belt.

“Are you hungry, little one?” he whispered, smirking at you. When you averted your eyes, your cheeks scorching under his hands, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours, gently, soft, slow, until it was you who mirrored his motions and took the initiative.

Your hands moved around his waist, holding on, pulling him slightly closer. He felt how you spread your legs and nudged him between them, your feet hooking around the backs of his legs, while your tongue teased at the seam of his lips. He granted you access, one of his hands sliding around your head to hold you in place as the other moved down your side and rubbed along your thigh.

Noah was tongue-deep in your mouth when he paused, the hand on your leg pushed under the hem of your dress, noticing something that made him lean back and look down. You squirmed a little, your hands finding his wrist, but he still managed to pull your dress up to expose your bare cunt.

“Where are your panties, pumpkin?” he breathed against your trembling lips.

You swallowed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He watched you and waited for a reply. “I... I... uh, must have forgotten them...” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back a little more, straightening up to tower over you. “I lost them?” you tried again, but he only narrowed his eyes. “I... uh... A girl took them!” you finally blurted out in a strained breath, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“A girl took them?” he repeated quietly.

“In the cafe,” you croaked, still not meeting his gaze, highly embarrassed.

“Hmm,” he made, leaning his arms on either side of your hips, bending over you. “What did Mommy do? What did she tell the girls there to do to you?” he then whispered, brushing his nose against yours so you'd look at him. When you did, you blinked quickly, your eyes glistening.

You parted your lips, a little gasp escaping you, before you pressed your mouth shut again, looking away.

“Look at me, baby,” he said quietly. You did, instantly, sending a shiver down his spine. “You can tell me what she did. Or did she tell you to lie? I really don't like liars, pumpkin. I think we should be honest with each other...”

He saw and heard how you swallowed thickly, your lashes fluttering. “Please don't be mad at Mommy,” you then said barely audible. “I don't want you to fight.”

“Oh baby girl,” he sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from you, his other hand resting next to your thigh. “I won't be mad, but I need to know if she did something that you didn't like, that made you uncomfortable. She can't do that. That's not how this works!” Slowly he looked back at you. “We're supposed to make you feel better...”

Your hands found his side, small fingers digging into his hip, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “You do, you do make me feel better, you and Mommy. In your own ways...”

“What did she do, pumpkin?” he asked again, taking a step back, settling between your legs, one hand raised to rub the back of his finger along your cheek.

“She... she asked a girl to... to...” you started, but then shook your head, letting out a frustrated grunt as you looked away. “I can't say it... but... it was okay, Daddy, I didn't not like it, you know? It was different, but it was... good...”

He stared at you, clenching his jaw. “What else?” he asked curtly, his voice a little too sharp. He noticed the flinch but couldn't help his cold demeanor.

“She... she made me... uh... carry a... a... you know...”

“A what?”

“V-vib-vibra...”

“A vibrator?” he helped you out. You nodded, staring at your hands on his waist. “She made you wear a vibrator in public?”

You swallowed, biting your lip. He sighed, fighting the storm raging inside him. Isabella had always been impatient, but this was going too far. She had the right ideas, introducing you to these things, but it was all too fast. You went from being miserable and alone and sexually inexperienced to having a random girl eat your cunt in a public place, wearing a vibe, and whatever else she subjected you to.

He could tell you were loyal to her, and that was a good thing, but she couldn't manipulate you like that. You were taken advantage of, and it wasn't right. He paused, thinking back to how he'd taken advantage of your vulnerable state as well. He hadn't been very patient either, now that he thought about it. Whatever happened in the shower hadn't been planned like that, but it happened, just like the handjob after, the cuddles/dry humping at night. Had he manipulated you too?

But it had been him, your Daddy, who was allowed to do these things to you. While Mommy used foul tricks, letting others work for her, using toys, dragging you to sex shops and kink cafes, subjecting your innocent mind to all those kinds of depravities. What came next? Trying to spank your worries out of you, showing you the full delights of BDSM? He wouldn't let that happen, not anytime soon anyway. Some day, sure, but you had just started your journey into their world, leaving your old one behind. You needed more time.

He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, before he stepped in and threw his arms around you, hugging you close to his chest. You let out a surprised little squeak, but quickly mirrored the embrace.

“Daddy?” you whispered softly.

“Hm?” he hummed, not wanting to let go.

“It's okay, Daddy,” you said, your hands rubbing over his broad back. “I'm okay.”

He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with your sweet scent, calming down slowly. “Of course you are, pumpkin,” he rasped back. “My brave little girl.”

He held you for another moment, before he slowly leaned back, his hands on your arms, a gentle pressure as he looked down at you. You blinked up at him, cheeks flushed, but eyes attentive and warm.

“Listen, baby, there's nothing wrong with vibrators or having your pussy eaten – yeah, I figured that's what happened,” he added when you flinched and looked away. “I know Mommy's favorite places, I know how her beautifully dirty mind works. I was just worried she'd overwhelmed you with all that. It's going way too fast, don't you think?”

“Maybe a little,” you whispered, biting your lip. He moved a hand to your chin, making you look up at him.

“We'll take it slower from here on out, okay?” he said softly. “Cuddles on the couch, cuddles in bed, whatever happens happens, but no more visits to sex shops or letting random people pleasure you! That's mine and Mommy's job, and nobody else's.”

You watched him closely, a shy smile grazing your lips. His fingers curled around your head as he leaned closer, pulling you against him to claim your mouth. “Yes, Daddy,” you breathed into him before he slipped his tongue between your lips, meeting yours, your hands grabbing at his waist as you kissed him back.

He quickly lost track of time as he sank into your sweet taste and scent and feel, his head spinning when he eventually leaned back, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Your arms snaked around his neck, holding him there, your fingers gingerly slipping into his hair. If he looked past the ups and downs, this was exactly what he had wanted. To find comfort in your embrace, to find peace in your innocence.

His arms were tight around your body as he lifted you up, settling you back on his hip. Like a child, his baby, his beautiful baby girl. He moved his hands to hold onto your rear, looking down at you as you met his gaze with big eyes, a shy little smile grazing your swollen lips, your cheeks flushed. He could get lost in you, just looking at you, feeling you, hearing your soft breaths. You were intoxicating.

“Daddy?” you broke the spell, one of your hands rubbing over his cheek, the scratch of his beard loud in his ears.

He blinked his eyes into focus. “Yes, pumpkin?”

“Can we... visit Mommy?” you then asked, biting your lip. “She's all alone upstairs...”

Tilting his head, he shifted you on his hip. “She's probably fine, changing into something more comfortable or taking a shower. Do you want to join her?”

“I...” You looked away, blushing a little more. “That's not...” You exhaled loudly through your nose before you looked back at him. “It's just... I feel a little bad... when I'm... with you, you know? I don't want her to feel left out...”

He frowned. “You think she feels left out? What makes you say that?”

“I mean... like... when I went shopping with her, and to have my... uh... well, when she made me... hm... presentable again? I mean, when I came home after that I went straight to you, completely ignoring her. That's... that's not fair, isn't it?”

Watching you as you stumbled over your words, he felt his jaw clenching. “That's why you hesitated today? To come to me?” he said quietly.

You nodded, averting your gaze. “Sorry, Daddy... I... I don't know how to... well... I want to please both of you... because you're both so good to me... but I don't know how...”

“Shh, it's alright,” he whispered, pulling you closer against him, one arm under your rear, the other holding the back of your head. “Do not stress about that, baby girl. We are all still trying to get the hang of this. We'll find our rhythm, we'll do things together, you and me, you and Mommy, and Mommy, you and me. It's new to us too, you know, to share a pretty girl like you?”

You snuggled into him, your arms tight around his neck, your soft breaths ghosting his skin. “She's not jealous?” you muttered barely audible.

He couldn't help the laugh ripping from his throat. “Oh pumpkin, your Mommy is a very passionate person, she is full of emotions, she may be a little jealous, but she will have to learn to deal with it. It was her idea after all, you know, to get a little girl, to share you with me. We're all in this together. You too have to learn to share us, it may not always be in equal parts, but we'll deal with it, it'll be okay. You will be okay when I spend special time with Mommy, right, baby?”

You leaned your head back, looking at him with a frown. “Special time?”

He smirked. “When I fuck her, pumpkin,” he said, savoring the flinch crashing through your small body. “You are the center of our attention, but before you came to us, we were people with needs too. If that makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell us. We can keep to ourselves, but you can also always join us if you like. Actually, I insist on including you one day, when you're ready.”

Watching the heat wandering into your face was a tad bit too amusing to him. You squirmed a little, licking your lips, unable to meet his eyes.

“Let's ask Mommy what she thinks about that, hm?” he mused quietly, brushing his lips against your temple as he shifted you in his arm, holding you tighter.

“Okay, Daddy,” you whispered, leaning against him as he carried you back into the foyer and up the stairs.

Before they became business partners, Noah and Isabella had been lovers, or rather special friends with benefits, using each other to get off and find peace in the other's body, a foolproof way to ease any kind of tension. Though they soon noticed that they weren't made for a conventional relationship, they still decided to move in together, find a nice house at the edge of town, make it their own.

They both owned it equally, both had their own rooms in opposite wings of the house. They shared the kitchen, living room and one bedroom, previously used for when they needed more than a quick fuck in either of their beds. Somehow that bedroom had turned into their own private 'red room' (despite being decorated in neutral grays and blues), with closets filled with various toys and other accessories he couldn't wait to introduce you to as well. But all in good time.

Your room sat on the other side of the hallway, opposite their shared bedroom, and they had agreed to sleep in your bed as often as you wanted them to. As he carried you along the hallway, he realized they hadn't even given you the grand tour yet, there were more rooms you hadn't seen before, a library, a play room with pool table and dart board, an indoor pool and a gym, the garden with another pool and a hot tub, some other rooms they could turn into anything you liked. So much to discover.

For now he brought you all the way to the left where Isabella's suite was: a bedroom, large ensuite bathroom, even larger walk-in closet, an office, a hobby room, even a little kitchenette. His part of the house looked similar, only he had an additional treadmill facing the garden instead of the lavish creative outlets she had. While his side had muted colors, masculine and minimalist, hers was bright with golden accents and marble, lots of whites and soft yellows and bright oranges, the occasional beige, terracotta floors instead of dark woods. Full of flowers and big plants. It looked airy and inviting, a hint of Latin flair, warm and welcoming.

He rapped his free hand against her door and listened, while you stiffened in his hold. Looking at you, he met your gaze and understood, slowly letting you down. You gave him a soft smile and grabbed his other hand, waiting patiently beside him, so small and cute in your pink sundress. He knocked again, no response.

“Isabella?” he called, waited. There was a shuffle behind the door, and when it opened, Isabella's gaze was dark and tight when she met his.

“What do you –” she started, anger in her voice, but then her eyes flicked to your form beside him, and her features softened instantly. “Cariño?”

“We wanted to visit you, Mommy,” you whispered a little timidly, squeezing Noah's hand.

He squeezed back, then released it, moving his to rest on your back as he gave you a little nudge.

“I was about to take a shower,” Isabella said softly, focusing on you. “Do you want to join me?”

He watched the heat rise in your face again, smiling softly. “I think our little girl wants to do something with the both of us, babe,” he mused carefully.

She looked at him, the tension growing around her eyes. He knew she was about to find excuses, shut him out again, probably still mad at him for not telling her about the unplanned hiking adventure/overnight stay in the woods. He didn't wait for her to find her words, instead he took a step past you and grabbed her waist, pulling her against him. Isabella squirmed, but Noah was stronger, and before she could do anything else, he leaned down to smack his lips to hers, silencing her with a hungry kiss.

He was rougher with her than he was with you, but that was what Isabella needed, someone to ground her, hold her tightly, squeeze the frustrations out of her. Usually he'd tie her up and spank her until she cried, then fucked the rest of her pent-up emotions right out of her, finally releasing all the stress accumulated behind her pretty eyes, but for now he opted for a simple kiss, and it seemed to be enough. Her arms snaked around his waist, a firm embrace, bone crushing if she'd be any stronger, but he could handle it.

“I'm sorry about this morning,” he breathed against her lips as they parted to draw breaths.

She stared at him, her eyelashes fluttering. “Time management and communication, Noah, so important,” she sighed, smirking at him.

“I know. Let's work on that, okay? Together?”

“Okay,” she replied, leaning up to press her full lips to his once more.

They both loosened their arms around each other at the same time, then slowly leaned away and looked towards you, and he felt a little sting to his heart when he saw your expression. A mixture of confusion, happiness and maybe also that jealousy he warned you about earlier.

He extended his arm to you and you quickly grabbed his hand, letting your mixed emotions behind as you were pulled between Noah and Isabella, who both hugged you tightly, their lips finding your warm cheeks. It was a strange embrace, a tangle of limbs, awkward angles, but filled with little laughs and squeaks and chuckles. It felt good.

“Come on then,” Isabella whispered, snuggling against you while Noah kissed the top of your head, “I think we all really need that shower now. Good thing I have such a large one...”

“And an even bigger heart,” he cooed, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled back all the same.

Together, the three of you walked (stumbled) through her door into the suite, heading straight to the large bathroom. Noah held your right hand, Isabella your left, and you walked between them without fussing, following along, submitting so beautifully. Inside the vast tiled room, he stopped for a moment and looked down at you.

“And you're okay with sharing a shower with Mommy and Daddy, pumpkin?” he asked quietly. You tilted your head up and nodded, smiling at him. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” you murmured, your entire face flushed. “I... I wanna do more with... both of you...” you added even quieter, earning you a tight hug from Isabella and a warm smile from him.

“We too, mi amor, we'll start with kisses,” she said softly, pressing her lips to your cheek before grabbing Noah's neck to pull him down and kiss his jaw as well. “And hugs and cuddles and warm showers...” She inhaled deeply, her arms around your body and half of Noah's. “And eventually, hmm, maybe even tonight? We'll share a bed... and all the fun things you do in one, hm?”

She nuzzled your neck, tickling a giggle out of you, while he stood and watched his girls, his hands on both your and Isabella's back, a fuzzy warmth settling low in his stomach.

It had been a while since he'd felt this content. Never in his busy life would he have thought he'd be the domestic type, never thought about having his own kids, or building a family. It hadn't been on the agenda, didn't fit him. But now, with you, he was able to pick the best aspects of a traditional family life and make it his own, your own, their own.

You were old enough to be your own person, but in this unconventional relationship, he could still treat you like the kid he might have never wanted but now knew he needed. He needed you, his little girl, to ground him, to ease the tension, to settle down. Feel your small hands on him, your soft lips against his (around his cock), your little body under his, on top of his, beside his. You close to him, whenever he could.

That was your role, and he knew you felt the same, needed the contact as well, the reassurance, the warmth, the special attention, and he'd do anything to give it to you, however you needed it. All the time. Alone or with Isabella, who probably thought the exact same, his horny little mistress. What a lucky man he was, a little girl in one arm, a gorgeous woman in the other.

Oh he couldn't fucking wait to take this whole thing further.

Chapter 9 🔷️ Chapter 10 🔷️ Chapter 11

End notes: Daddy had his solo chapters (and took you hiking), Mommy had her solo chapters (and deeply disturbed you with her kinky side), and now all of them are in the same room, finally!!! Cue bi-panic! Or something like that... in the next chapter! :3

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: Showertime with Mommy and Daddy and you!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 20)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, sex, anal, double penetration, fingering.

Word Count: 3539

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19)

_________________________________________

Day 196

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You sleep later than you normally do, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the two, warm bodies on either side of you, caressing and holding and kissing you in reassurance throughout the night, or if it’s because of the fluffiest, softest bed you’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping on—yes, even before the world went to absolute shit. Perhaps it’s because there’s no worries about the undead crawling into your bed and tearing into your flesh in a tasty midnight snack, though you did wake in the early hours of the morning with Cassian down between your knees, ravaging your cunt like you were the antidote to all his needs. Whatever kept you tucked safely in a deep slumber, when you wake up the next morning, you feel like an entirely new person.

The downside is that you wake up alone.

You squint against the sun creeping in through the small, frosted windows of the basement room you, Cassian, and Azriel stumbled into post-shower for a second round of fun. They both exhausted you in the most blissful way. You can still feel their hands on your body, trailing down your spine, caressing between your thighs, poking, prodding, petting. You have the marks to prove that last night wasn’t just the best dream you’ve had in your entire life.

You roll over, body aching in the best way. You shove your face into Azriel’s pillow to hide your grin. The fabric smells like the soap you all shared in the shower, but somehow the scent suits Azriel perfectly. Musky. Metallic like fresh rain. A sharp sting of midnight.

You take your time properly getting up. You find extra clothes in the dresser by the door. A t-shirt that’s a size too big, and you opt to wear a pair of men’s boxers you found in the top drawer. You need to assess the state of your jeans and you’re sure they won’t be pretty. Maybe you and your group will stay long enough that you can wash your clothes and leave them to dry before you make your next move, whatever that may be.

You could scrounge in your pack for your spare set of clothes, but you’re still clinging to the daze of the night to bother. Hopefully, no one recognizes the clothes you borrowed as their own.

You trail up the stairs, following the sound of soft murmuring. Rhysand hadn’t woken you during the night, so you assume that there has been no change in Feyre’s state. You will check on her first thing when you make it upstairs.

A pang of guilt stabs you in the chest. While you were fooling around with Cassian and Azriel, your best friend was lying comatose on the dining room table with a bite on her arm and an infection crawling in her veins.

She’s okay, you remind yourself. She’s immune.

Whatever that might mean.

Your eyes connect with Azriel’s when you round the corner into the living room, his hazel eyes drag down your body in a leisurely sweep that makes you blush and your body heat. You’d grab him by the collar of his fresh, gray shirt—a color you’ve never seen him in, but he looks mighty delectable in—if you didn’t have an audience.

Cassian sits on the couch beside Azriel. He’s shirtless, like he couldn’t be bothered to dig around in a drawer or his pack for a shirt. Your mind wanders to an image of something more domestic, where he’d tend to his gardens on the weekend while you sat on the porch, a book in your lap that you couldn’t concentrate on because of the skin of his muscular, gleaming back in the sunlight. Azriel would be there, too, beside you with his computer on his lap. Maybe he’d be booking a surprise vacation for the three of you or ordering you chocolates because Cassian doesn’t like receiving flowers. For someone who spends most of his time elbow deep in dirt, it’s the pretty, frilly flowers that flare his allergies.

You’re snapped from your daydream when Cassian raises his hands to you, waving you over. You swear that your cheeks turn a deeper shade of red at the motion. He wants you to sit in his lap. You want to sit in his lap, but you need to check on Feyre, first.

She lies splayed out on the couch, eyes closed, mouth parted. Her chest rises and falls evenly enough for your shoulders to drop a little in relief.

You check her pulse. It’s steady albeit slightly weaker than it should be. Then, you carefully unwrap the wound, cringing when the gauze tries desperately to cling to the remnants of dried blood.

The stench hits you first. It wafts from the wound like putrid death. Your lungs constrict and your stomach revolts. You barely hold yourself back from slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, barely hold back from getting sick. You don’t need to be known for doing throwing up more than once in this nice home. You have a feeling that Nesta wouldn’t appreciate it.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asks, worried. He springs from the couch, Azriel and Rhysand going still behind him, their quiet conversation cutting off abruptly as their attention latches onto you. Rhysand looks like he’s about to vault from the sofa to your side. His violet eyes blaze with worry, his brows furrowed deeply, even when you wave off the men in your group.

“It’s fine,” you reassure, reveling in the warmth of the hand Cassian plants on your lower back. You want to lean into him, but you revert your attention to your friend. “I just didn’t expect the smell,” you admit, carefully breathing shallow breaths through your teeth as you examine the day-old bite.

It looks like any other wound, minus the black, spidering veins that crawl up her arm. They taper off near her elbow, where you assume her white blood cells are working overtime to battle the infection. From what you’ve seen of Elain’s mark, it will take weeks for the wound to fully heal, but you fear the new color of her veins that peek from beneath her skin are here to stay.

You take another pass at it with expired peroxide. The wound bubbles minimally, and you slather on some of the antibiotic ointment that Lucien gave that he mentioned helped Elain’s bite. Hers has been healing slowly but steadily and only scabbing remains.

Feyre mumbles something under her breath when you swipe the ointment against her skin. It’s incoherent, something you don’t catch, but it has Rhys rising off the couch and crossing the room in the span of seconds. He caresses her face gently, whispering soothing words to her. It’s a scene too intimate for you to watch, so you quickly avert your attention to re-wrapping her arm.

Once you’ve finished and checked her temperature with the back of your palm, you allow Cassian to pull you back toward the couch, even tug you into his lap. You settle as much as you can, which proves to be difficult with the way that his cock twitches beneath your ass when you squirm, trying to readjust.

Cassian’s hands clamp down on your hips, keeping you still. You can’t help but peek over your shoulder at him with a teasing smile twitching at your lips. His eyes are alight with the promise of his cock between your legs again, and you can’t help but wonder where and when. This very sofa? Bent over the counter in the kitchen? Up against the barn you saw out back?

You clear your throat very carefully. “What were you talking about?”

The relaxation from the morning quickly dims as the horrors of the world creep back up as you stare at your best friend. A sour feeling twists your stomach. You’ve both been through so much, and you always knew it was a possibility that something like this could happen, but you never allowed the thought take root in your mind.

“We were discussing our next move,” Azriel fills you in, straight to the point as always. His arms are crossed over his chest, and you ache to reach your hand out to him, see if he’s willing to hold your hand. With the emotion that crosses his features, something hard-set and annoyed, you refrain. “So far, Rhys and Cassian think we should stay.”

“And you don’t?” you question.

“Do you?” He counters, carefully.

Azriel allows you to see the vulnerability in his hazel eyes. For a second it’s there, then is replaced by that stoic mask he’s perfected. He wants your honest opinion, and unfortunately, it’s all too easy to sift through the pros of being here to reach the reasons that you shouldn’t stay.

Your silence permeates the air. The men give you time to think, but after a few minutes of silence, the tension in the air thickens.

“What is it?” Rhys breaks the silence, studying you intently. You busy yourself with playing with Cassian’s fingers, but even he twists his hand around and grips yours tightly, stilling your movements.

You eye Feyre on the sofa for a long moment while you gather your thoughts. Her chest rises and falls in a steady motion, and for that you’re thankful.

“It’s just…” you trail off, squeezing Cassian’s hand for reassurance. You peer over at Rhys, then Azriel, and Cassian behind you. “Doesn’t this all seem a little too good to be true? It feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Cassian leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple that warms you to your toes.

You melt into him, chasing the feeling of his lips on your skin. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he murmurs, and goosebumps breakout across your skin at the sentiment. “Leave the worrying to us.”

And Godsdamn, if that isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard in your short-lived life.

But you’ve never been one to not worry.

You risk a glance at Azriel, who stares at you like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. You blush under the intensity of his stoic features, and heat floods between your thighs. His fingers creep along the cushion of the couch and find yours. You hold on tightly.

“This is the best position we’ve been in in months,” Rhys says with a sigh. He looks exhausted, and maybe you can offer to stay by Feyre’s side while he cleans up and gets some rest. He rubs a hand across his jaw. “We found her sisters, which has been her goal from the start, has it not?” He asks, looking at you.

It’s true. Feyre has finally been reunited with her sisters, even if she doesn’t know it yet. It’s all you’ve wanted for her, too, but there’s something about how protected their group has been behind these gates that has you wondering. How were they so prepared for the end of the world? You know Eris mentioned something about his father, but something isn’t adding up right here.

“It is,” you agree, then shrug. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” Azriel reassures you. “Make sure we don’t slip up. At the first sign of trouble, we’re gone.”

To whom the hell knows where goes unsaid.

The five of you sit in silence, all lost in your own thoughts. Cassian’s hand trails soothingly up and down your arm, and you feel like you could fall right back asleep against his chest.

“What are we doing today?” You ask, trying to keep your eyes open. It’s difficult, but you don’t want to spend any longer sleeping the day away, especially with the was the sun pours through the windows.

“Eris is going to show me the gardens today,” Cassian says, and you smile at the excitement in his voice. This is what he’s been searching for, of course he would want to stay and begin his garden. It’ll benefit everyone, and maybe helping will make you feel less like a freeloader in this luxurious home. “When he gets back from a supply run with Nesta.”

“And you?” You ask Rhys.

“I’m staying right here until Feyre wakes up,” he says, and your heart swells at the adoration in his eyes for your friend. She needs to wake up more than ever.

“No offense, Rhys,” you say, and wrinkle your nose for effect. “You need to shower. You reek.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve smelled worse.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” you counter. “I’ll stay with her, you know. She’ll be okay.”

He looks weary but eventually nods and takes his leave, moving quickly, like every moment spent apart from Feyre is a pain like no other.

Looking between Cassian and Azriel, you agree with the sentiment.

The back door opens, carrying Eris and Nesta’s voices along with it. They’re home from their trip and before you can move from Cassian’s lap to ask if they need assistance with anything, Nesta emerges from the hall, striding toward her sister like she’s on a mission.

It’s instinct to rip yourself from your seat, to protect Feyre, but Nesta’s only checking her temperature the same way you did a few minutes ago. She’s just worried about her sister, you remind yourself, trying to calm your racing heart.

Eris appears in the doorway, amber eyes tracking Nesta before latching onto Cassian’s. “You ready for that tour?”

Cassian stands, planting you on your feet. Nesta slips from the room, brushing past Eris with a brush of their fingers, most likely to check on her other sister. Cassian meets Eris at the door, Cassian listening eagerly to every word Eris says as he’s lead back to the rear door of the home.

“Why don’t you go with Cassian and Eris,” Azriel suggests softly, brushing a longing touch down your arm.

You can’t help that your gaze flickers back to Feyre. You already feel guilty for abandoning her for a shower and sex with not one but two men. You shouldn’t leave her alone now. What if she wakes up? What if something happens and you’re not around to help?

“I’ll watch her.” Azriel’s voice draws your attention. “I promise.”

“Okay,” you agree reluctantly. Azriel rewards you with a short and sweet kiss that holds the promise of more. You almost chase him, almost wrap your arms around his neck to keep his mouth pressed firmly against yours. You almost whine when he straightens, hazel eyes glowing with mischief, a barely-there smile tilting the corners of his mouth just enough that your breath catches in your chest.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You didn’t realize how much there was to talk about plants.

Seriously, you don’t think you’ve understood a single word Cassian and Eris are talking about. Of course, Cassian would have questions, you just didn’t think that Eris would have answers, but he does, even the ones to your boyfriends most obscure queries.

But with the way that Cassian eagerly drinks in every word Eris says is too adorable to miss. He hasn’t let go of your hand since you joined Eris on the back porch, Cassian excitedly squeezes it every time he hears something he likes. His hazel eyes glitter with joy, and your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest with happiness.

The garden shed is smaller than the barn but well organized. You spot the tops of carrots, cabbage, even strawberries. Sunlight streams through the glass roof and there’s a doorway that leads to the outside part of the garden, which you have yet to walk through. It’s massively impressive, positioned far enough away from the fences that you wonder if whoever selected this spot knew about what was to come.

Your stomach growls, so loudly that it interrupts the conversation Eris and Cassian are engrossed in. Both men stop to peer down at you, their eyes glittering with amusement.

“Sorry,” your face blushes hot and you shrink in your spot.

Cassian chuckles and tugs you into his chest with ease. He seems the most relaxed of the group, being here, and you wish that some of that feeling would rub off on you, but it hasn’t yet. There’s still a mass of uncertainty in the bottom of your gut.

Eris takes a few steps away, giving you and Cassian some privacy.

“Why don’t you go find some lunch?” he asks, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. His touch is tender, eyes soft and happy, and you want to throw your arms around his neck and kiss the daylights out of him, taste a little bit of that sunshine that radiates from his smile. “I’ll be in after we finish up here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he bends down and pecks you on the mouth. You pout when he pulls away and a deep laugh rumbles Cassian’s chest. You wanted a longer kiss, a much longer one. “Go on, get your lunch,” he whispers. A shiver drags up your spine, trailing that path Cassian’s teasing fingers make. “We have all night for kisses, sweetheart.”

You read the promise in his eyes. Something coils pleasurably between your legs, and the urge to grab Cassian’s hands and press it against your core is strong, but you are in company. You glance at Eris who peers down at his shoes, offering you what little privacy there is in the small greenhouse.

Your gaze flickers back to Cassian, drinking in his wicked grin. You swallow hard and manage to say your goodbyes, trailing out of the garden shed. Maybe if Rhys is back at his post by Feyre, you can convince Azriel for an afternoon quickie.

The sun beams across your shoulders as you make your way toward the large house. You can the yard, drinking in the scenery. It’s an entirely different world. Like the apocalypse isn’t real within the gates of the Vanserra mansion. They have a well-fortified home, food, weapons, clean water, medical supplies…it truly is an anomaly, which is why you think that there must be something wrong.

Your gaze snags on the barn. It’s painted a rusty orange color. There’s a wrought-iron crest above the barn doors, the Vanserra crest. It’s a shield split into four sections. In the top-left, there’s a leaf, falling from a tree. Beside it is a rapier, and you wonder what the story behind each section of the crest is. Vines wrap around the edges of the shield, and the bottom-left icon is a silhouette of a man and a woman holding hands. Huh, you wonder. Maybe you’ll ask Lucien what they mean.

The icon on the bottom-right has fallen off, and even though you squint, you can’t make out the shape of the sun-faded mark.

You take a detour for a better look. You wouldn’t mind peeking into the barn to see the animals as well. You know they have chickens, because that’s what you’ve been eating for most meals, but you wonder if there are horses or cows or goats. You’d take joy in seeing a living, breathing animal.

You’re a few feet from the barn door when Lucien appears, calling your name. Your head snaps to the side, where he’s approaching with an easy grin. You relax, but your heart continues to race at the scare.

“There you are,” he says, stopping a few feet between you and the barn. “I was looking for you, wanted to invite you to lunch with Nesta, Elain, and I.” He gives you an easy smile, one that you return.

Lucien nods to the back porch where Nesta and Elain sit at the long table. Elain looks livelier today. There’s more color to her face and a soft smile on her face as she speaks to her sister.

“How is she doing?” You ask, relenting as your stomach growls at the mention of food. Seeing the animals can wait.

“Better today,” Lucien admits, staring admiringly at his girlfriend. Your chest aches at the love he has for her in his eyes. If something like that had happened to Cassian or Azriel, you’re not sure you’d survive.

Your eyes fall on Nesta, and the hair at the nape of your neck stands tall. Her sharp, silver gaze is pinned on you. Her features are set in neutral, but her stare still burns with each step you take closer to the house. It’s a feeling that you certainly haven’t gotten used to yet.

“Are Azriel and Rhys joining us?” you ask. There’s something about sitting with the three of them alone that’s unsettling you, and you don’t know what it is. You’d prefer to have one of your friends with you, and you assure yourself that it’s because the last time any of you have split up, things haven’t ended well. “I believe they were in the middle of a heated discussion when I went to invite them earlier, but I will check again,” Lucien explains, and pulls out a chair. The metal legs screech against the stone deck and you cringe. “Here, take a seat and dig in. I’ll be right back.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36  @bionic-donut @queserasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamerdreamer @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001 @fallmyriad @sstrohma @tcris2020 @jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi @ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite @lees-chaotic-brain @eternallyelvish @lilah-asteria @randombibitch @st4r-girl-official @nanisearchinginnerpeace @aemondsb1tch @chxosangxl @marigold-morelli @w0nderw0manly

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 32

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31

2.1k words

M!troll x f!reader

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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It was a warm and stagnant night sleeping at the little fishing outpost, but it was still better than sleeping out in the open like the night before. You and Zen stayed in a simple hut with a simple bed, but at least it was a roof over your head.

He woke you early the next morning to hop on a small boat with a few local fisherman who were sailing north. While boats were nothing new to you coming from a coastal kingdom with an impressive navy, this was barely meeting the definition for one. You sat on Zen’s lap on the floor and hung off the edge feeling sick for most of the trip. It was a relief hours later when the boat finally anchored and the two of you were able to clamor to shore. With no dock in sight, you were happy that at least that they were able to get pretty close to shore with how small the boat was.

Zen hopped off first, unfazed by wading through the shallows, and gave you his pack to keep dry before hoisting you up on his shoulders. Even carrying you while wading through the water he moved quickly.

By the time you reached the shore and had a quick lunch it was already midday. You were certain that the other day Zen had said it would still be a fair distance from where the fishermen would drop you off to his village, you were hoping that you could make it there soon.

“Will we get there tonight?” you asked

“Hm?” Zen asked back.

“To your village, will we get there by tonight?” you clarified.

“We should, as long as we do not stop much we can probably make it there a bit after sundown.”

“Thank the Light” you mumbled, you were not looking forward to the possibility of sleeping outside again.

The terrain had changed a lot in the time it took to sail here. The patchy trees and grasslands had long since given way to a sparse forest and that was now quickly giving way to jungle.

He led you into the tree line, along well worn footpaths and while you had been enjoying walking along the shore yesterday, the shade of the trees sure felt a lot nicer than the midday sun. Back in your kingdom you seldom left the walls of the city, though a few times you did get the chance to walk through the surrounding forests, this however was not even remotely similar. The trees here grew much taller, the color of everything was much brighter, everything was lush and new and exciting.

The path wound and forked its way deeper into the jungle, though Zen moved confidently, choosing which direction to go at each crossroads without hesitation. His pace was slow to match yours, just letting you take your time to experience everything and take it all in. Well, until the sun started getting low and he insisted carrying you the rest of the way at his pace so you could actually make it to his village before it got too dark.

Finally, as the sun was nearly set, you found yourself back along the shore with the soft glow of lights along the horizon farther up the coast. The closer you got, the more structures crept over the horizon and into view until you were able to get a fairly decent view of things.

“Zen, is that your village?” you asked.

“It is. We should be able to make it just a bit after nightfall” he answered.

“That’s your idea of a village?”

“What do you mean by that? Of course it is. Come on, we are close.”

He carried you for most of the rest of the way, only sitting you down when you squirmed as you got closer. Town or city would have been a much better descriptor, it was not at all the quaint little settlement you had been expecting. The city was bordered on one side by mountainous jungle and a large bay on the other, forming a crescent hugging the coast.

Zen was swarmed by people the moment the two of you got close enough to the edge of the city to be noticed. There was excitement buzzing in the air as more people gathered, chatted with him, and ushered the two of you farther into the city.

It was late, but the city was still bustling with people going about their business. Everything was colorful, from the people to the buildings, everything was rich and bright and it only made Zen stand out with how drab he was dressed.

“Is everything always so lively?” you asked him as you drew closer to the heart of the city. There were drums coming from up ahead and the sounds of people gathered.

“Most of the time” he shrugged, “But come, I’m sure by now someone has run off to tell my family we are here.”

By the time you reached the city center you had attracted quite a crowd. People offered you both food and drink, which was appreciated after eating travel rations. You sat with Zen around the fire in the central square and enjoyed you food and just watching him interacting with people. He was always stiff back at the capital, almost on guard, but not here. He was leaning back a bit, speaking cheerfully in his own tongue, not his formal orcish or human common. He was gesturing about with his hands and smiling while he spoke, and despite his drab clothes he actually seemed to fit in for once.

Zen always somewhat awkwardly stood out in the capital. Sure there were very few trolls there so all trolls stood out to a degree, but Bira and Ba’tual only stood out as much as any other troll while Zen constantly looked a bit uncomfortable and out of place. It was nice to finally see him so relaxed.

A voice rang out that caught his attention and caused him to bolt upright. You did not understand a word of it besides Zen’s name but he quickly stood up straight to greet whoever was walking up.

The woman stood eye level with him and the resemblance was nearly uncanny. Same lanky build, rich sapphire skin tone, shaggy green hair, and big green eyes.

You did not have to know what she was saying to recognize that Zen was getting chewed out by his mother. She tugged on his clothes and raised her brow, she ruffled his hair and seemed to have issues with it too.

Seemingly in an attempt to distract his mother from further picking him apart, Zen quickly tugged you up to stand by him and immediately her entire attitude changed.

Her facial expression softened as she placed her hands on your shoulders and just looked you over. She looked back to Zen and smiled as she spoke before giving you a hug and stepping back.

“My mother, Sahi” Zen introduced.

Automatically you curtsied, years of etiquette lessons and formalities drilled into you, which only made Sahi smirk.

She spoke with Zen for a moment and then turned back to you.

Zen quickly translated what she said, “She welcomes you to our home, and also family, and looks forward to getting to know you.”

You thanked her and happily spent time with Zen just enjoying seeing him so relaxed. People floated in and out: childhood friends, various relatives, what felt like the whole city.

You met Zen’s older brother Tuva, the current chief of tribe, and his younger sister Veli, a pearl diver.

Everyone was warm and welcoming, and you could not help but realize that Zen probably would not get the same open arms reception back at your kingdom as you got here.

You leaned against Zen, exhausted from traveling and just wanting a bath, but you were happy to sit with him as long as he wanted to stay there. The evening dragged on, eating and drinking until you saw the traces of purple on Zen’s cheeks from the alcohol.

“Having a good time?” you asked.

“It is nice to be back” he answered.

“Why did you wait so long to visit then?”

“It has been hard coming back, it stopped feeling like home many years ago” he said without elaborating and you did not push. It seemed like a sensitive subject.

Not long after the two of you made you way to where you were staying, a small home not far from the center of town. It was not much, just a sitting area and a small bathroom on the tiny lower level and a small loft bedroom with a second floor balcony. Just a simple wooden structure with a thatched roof and raised a few feet off the ground, but at least it was private to stay.

Zen must have seen the disappointment on your face when you looked into the small bathroom and there was no bathtub, “We can go to the bath house in the morning to wash up” he offered.

“Bath house?” you questioned.

“It is the easiest way to get hot water. They are dug into the cliff faces around at the edge of the village where the rivers are, we will go in the morning. I can get water from the well though so we can wipe off at least for now.”

You sat and waited while Zen went to go get some water. He helped you clean up, gently wiping down your arms and legs before helping you undress and clean up the rest of you. He looked exhausted, and was definitely a bit tipsy, but his expression was so soft as he looked up at you.

Gently you took the washcloth from him to return the favor. You let your hands linger longer than necessary on him, enjoying the vibrations from his purring while you cleaned up his chest. Just enjoying him. It had been a long two of traveling and even though you did not get the bath you were hoping for it was still nice just to share a moment together.

The ladder leading up to the little loft bedroom was steep, you climbed up slowly with Zen following behind you to catch you in case you slipped. As much as you usually loved the skin to skin contact of being snuggled up to Zen he always gave off so much body heat and it was unbearable now under the blanket on a hot, humid night. You shimmed away a bit and tossed the light blanket off of yourself, which only marginally made things better.

“Is everything alright?” Zen asked, sounded a bit worried.

“It’s just a bit to hot to be cuddling under a blanket” you explained.

“Oh” he seemed disappointed but tossed the blanket off himself and snuggled back up to you.

It was still too warm even like that. Back home on a cold desert night you loved how much heat he gave off, but here it was just miserable.

“Zen, its too hot” you protested. Outside earlier it had not been as bad with the breeze coming off the bay, but inside the warm, stagnant air was stifling.

He did not say anything at first, just got up and walked out onto the balcony for a moment before coming back in, “I have an idea” he offered you his hand to help you up.

The air outside felt much nicer as the two of you stepped out on to the balcony. You crouched a bit to keep yourself covered by the reed-woven rails, not wanting to accidentally flash anyone and especially not on your first day there. A simple hammock stretched across most of the small balcony and Zen beckoned you over to it.

He helped you lay down with him and pulled you on to his chest, “Is this better?” he asked.

You took a moment to skootch a little farther up his chest so you could nestle your face into the crook of his neck. As always h”is pulse was strong and slow just under skin, steady and unwavering. Laying like this was still pretty warm, but the breeze coming off the bay made Zen’s body heat bearable.

“Yeah” you trailed a few kisses along his neck and felt his pulse quicken for just a brief moment as you settled down to sleep.

--------

Tag list

@blushycadaver @mochalyluv @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @lets-imagineastory @emonatural191 @after-laughter-come-tears @krayziee @zaqnette @graveblanketgreen @lovingbadguys @nogoatsnoglori @bunnibabylilly @selfindulgenthoe @dij-ology @bl0odykittpawz

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 26

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know

A.N: I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately life gets in the way of these things!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19 • Part 20 • Part 21 • Part 22 • Part 23 • Part 24 • Part 25

• ··········· • ············ •

Thanks to whatever gods were now in charge of watching your endeavors, you made your way quickly and easily through the aqueduct. A mix of Viktor’s knowledge of the place and your ability to unlock doors and create distractions meant you didn’t need to go through the rocky riverbed.

Once on the other side of the river, you both made your way silently toward the main city, and when you arrived back at the park, the sun was already low on the horizon.

Viktor paused next to the small bench you had met by that morning, scratching the back of his neck and biting on his cheek, and you frowned.

“Spit it.” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow when he looked up at you, but then his gaze drifted away.

“I have a…suggestion to give you, but I’m afraid of what you might think of me after.”

Your frown got deeper as his cheeks got redder.

“Go on.” 

“My apartment is closer to the aqueduct than the penthouse, so…” He cleared his throat. “I think it would be beneficial…and far less exhausting… if…youspendthenightatmyhouse.”

The last part of the sentence came out as fast as the hex claw laser. You got 'spend' and 'house'…ah…

…

“You don’t have to; it is completely up to you, and even if you say yes and then change your mind, you can go! And the walls are really paper-thin, so if you are worried that I do anything to you… I mean you do have magic and I'm not exactly the strongest man in Piltover…once…Jayce gently pushed me away from an experiment, and I toppled over… Embarrassing, really… Why am I telling you this?”

You blinked a couple of times. At first I'm shocked that he had actually asked you to spend time at his place, especially after the day you both had. And then at his comically dramatic rant, a smile appeared on your face as he kept going.

“Alright, sounds like a good plan.”

“Besides, your mother isn’t here yet, and you’d be alone and…wait, what?” He finally stopped to look at you.

“It’s a good idea. We’ll be able to squeeze a few more hours of sleep in and do some planning.”

Viktor started to nod slowly at first and then enthusiastically. His face opened up with a nervous but bright smile.

“You want to go get takeout at Voltaire’s? I’m sure I can convince him to get you some tart…” He announced as he passed you by, waiting for you to follow him.

“No need.” He adjusted his cane, and you could have sworn he had a little more pep in his step. “Jayce came over the other day; his mother usually makes him bring me food. I fear she thinks I can’t feed myself.”

“Eh…pastries and dessert don’t count as a balanced meal plan, Vik.” You joked, and he gave an ‘I don’t care’ type shrug. “I’m just happy you're eating.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You shifted your backpack’s straps, realizing what you had blurted out.

“Well, work…”

“I can eat and work! That is why I have two hands…” He made a gesture of screwing a bolt and grabbing something to eat.

“Wow…efficient.” He made an agreeing sound with his throat, and you laughed.

“Keep doing it! As much as people would kill for those cheekbones, gaunt wouldn’t look good on you.” You winked at him and laughed when he touched the reddening apple of his cheeks. 

Viktor joined your amusement as you both walked towards the Artist Quarters on your way to Engineering Street. 

The small apartment Viktor had inhabited was, in fact, closer to the aqueduct, between the riverbed and the Academy. Most of the people working in the Academy had housing there. Mostly because the rents were low for them and proximity. It was a step up from dorms, but not really an upgrade in luxury.

And while Engineering Street was quiet throughout the day and night, you’d even say a bit boring, the Artist Quarters were a lively and colorful place, becoming more energetic at night.

The buildings were smaller, with a maximum of 3 floors, but bright with small shops on the floor levels. Bakeries, art shops, music stores. The cobblestone streets were filled with chalk drawings on the ground, and the streetlights had string lights hanging in between them. 

The colors seemed to become brighter in these streets with the number of flowers and small trees and the strewn artists painting on the streets or people drinking and eating on the restaurant’s patio.

You passed by an art supply shop, and someone inside shouted Viktor’s name and waved at him. Viktor did the same, warmly greeting the elderly man storing a display of watercolors on a shelf, and you became curious.

“Mr. Felton sells me the pencils and chalks the council hates so much.” Viktor explained when he saw your expression.

“Have you ever tried drawing?”

“Oh no! Jayce is the artist of the two of us. He’s in charge of doing the initial designs and sketches…I’m good with a ruler, though!”

You were chuckling at his pride and confidence when he suddenly veered right and started to fish something out of his satchel. He took out a key and shoved it into the intricate front door to a beautiful blue-tiled building.

When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned back and mentioned for you to come.

Viktor, head scientist and co-creator of Hextech, did not live on Engineering Street… Viktor, the color-coding aficionado, lived in the Artists Quarters. And you knew, in your heart of hearts…in the depths of your soul…there was nothing that made more sense than this.

His never-stopping mind didn’t need the monotony of the academy-assigned living quarters. It needs the bustle and the bustle and the colors of this place. You wondered if anything would have been different if the other Viktor had had this thought.

…

The building was beautiful outside and in.

On the outside, the light blue tiled walls were decorated with white columns and stone windows. There were three floors, with the two higher ones having a small veranda on them, just big enough to have two chairs on them. The ivy that crept up on the walls broke the symmetric façade of the building, clinging to the columns and tiles like veiny tendrils of bright green. What really got your attention at first was the front door, a white wood double door with intricate carvings and colorful glass panes, finished with a beautifully curved glass canopy.

The inside of the building was just as wonderful, with pastel brown painted walls and various little plants scattered on corners; the well-used wooden floors gave the inside a cozy feeling. In the middle back of the foyer was an old, small elevator that Viktor quickly made his way to, only stopping at the metal mailboxes to see if anything had been left to him. Nothing.

When you got to the elevator, you noticed Viktor’s hand tapping on the handle of his crutch. He was biting his cheek and slightly frowning, breathing in and out deeply at points.

“Are you alright?” You asked, leaning against the cage of the elevator.

“Mmm?” You nodded to his fingers on the handle, and he stopped, clutching the handle tighter. “Sorry…I--”

“Remember when you said I could change my mind and go? The same applies to you. I can just go.” You made sure your tone wasn’t disappointed or angry or any unintentional emotion that would make him feel bad when there was absolutely nothing to feel bad about. You’d respect his decision the same way you know he’d respect yours.

“No…” he quickly interjected. “I…this is not because I don’t want you here. It is because I do. I’m afraid I may do something that will scare you off…”

“I don’t scare easily.” You want to add, ‘I once spit in the face of a god,’ but then he would start asking questions. So you just touched his hand and smiled. 

The elevator stopped with a mechanical groan, and Viktor nodded, more to himself than to you, and walked out to the second-floor foyer. He opened the door and walked inside with you close behind. However, you couldn’t make it past the door frame without gasping wide-eyed while your mind blanked.

Something about butterflies and wings came to mind, though.

The inside of his apartment was the exact same floor plan as the other dimension. A small kitchenette to the left with a window on top of the sink, and the rest was open space. The glass and wood door to the balcony was on a diagonal corner in front of the main door; next to it was a small arrangement of windows with curved lines going through them, giving them a delicate design. There was a room to the side, which you guessed was the bedroom, and another room at the end of the open space, the bathroom. It wasn’t cramped, but it was small.

You knew this floor plan like the back of your hand; you could close your eyes and go from here to the bathroom without bumping into the wall.

What changed, though, made the entire home feel different. The decorations and the colors. The lived-in details of the furniture.

The walls had been painted a deep forest green, instead of the neutral gray of the other dimension. There were decorations on the walls, diplomas, and schematics displayed proudly. The wooden floors were shiny and covered with rugs here and there.

The small table that served as a divider between the kitchen and the living space had a napkin holder and a wooden straw table mat. There were pans on top of the fridge and plates on the dish rack. There were two mugs on the sink, one of them with ‘man of progress printed on it. 

It contrasted with the table that only served to hold books, boxes, and schematics. On the other timeline, glasses and plates were stored so as not to catch dust from not being used.

The living room had three bookcases filled with trinkets, books, vinyl records, and their player. 

The books weren’t just academic, like the other apartment’s shelves, but also biographies and fantasy, architecture, and philosophy.

You could see the collector's edition of your mother’s saga neatly tucked into a shelf with small ceramic figures of the main characters in front of them. 

There were photos of him, Jayce, Sky, and even your mom and Willah. Noticeably he didn’t look particularly comfortable in any of them, but it was a stark difference from the single photo of Jayce and Viktor at the inauguration of the hexgate and the framed newspaper clipping of the hex crystal discovery. 

The couch was a light dusty pink color with decorative pillows and two folded blankets on the back of it. It was a sharp difference from the leather-bound couch with blankets thrown about and his bed pillow shoved into a corner.

Behind a clothed divider, a desk and some scientific material were completely thrown around, but the mess was enclosed there. Near a big window, you saw the single-seat, twin version of the couch your mother sent to the lab. Tucked in a nook surrounded by plants and books. 

There were shoes on the shoe rack and coats on the coat hanger. There was an open book with a cover-up on the end table near the couch. There were tea stains on the dinner table. There was a life being lived here.

As you walked around the home, with Viktor trailing in front of you explaining and adding commentary to the million new things you were finding in the familiar house, you found yourself wondering why the Viktor you knew from before couldn’t have been gifted this…why was this Viktor standing in front of you smiling and being a generally happy human while his cosmic twin coughed himself to death? It made you sad and happy and angry and relieved.

“Are you alright?” Viktor tapped your shoulder, something he had now started to use to catch your attention instead of grabbing you.

You took a deep breath and mentioned the couch, silently asking permission to sit. Quickly he nodded and grabbed some pillows to make space for you. 

When you fell onto the leathery furniture, he took the place next to you, looking concerned.

“V…I…need to--”

“Meow”

Your speech was interrupted by a long, muffled meow by the front door, accompanied by small scratches on the wood.

“Oh…No, no… I’m sorry…Give me a moment…” Viktor gave an apologetic smile and got up, while you looked on intrigued by this.

He walked towards the bathroom door and opened it and then went back to the front door and did the same. The blackest of black cats intertwined itself on Viktor's legs, giving out small greeting squeaks and purrs.

“Go. Go on. Yes, I know.” Viktor said, smiling softly at the cat, talking back to them as if he could understand. 

The scientist softly nudged the cat with his foot, making the furry critter understand the big human wanted to move.

The cat finally acknowledged you and walked slowly towards where you sat, sitting gracefully in front of you and staring. Their blue eyes looked at you, and you swore that if all of the lights in Piltover were to turn off, the cat's eyes would be the only thing beaming.

“You have a cat.” You stated more than asked.

“Eehhh…Technically, the building has a cat. She just heard me first.” He limped back towards the couch and sat down.

“What's her name?” 

“Noir…Nono for short.” 

The cat leaped to the couch and smelled the hand you gave her. After a while, she deemed you worthy of her time and pushed her head into her hand, while Viktor stroked her body.

“Nono.” You called, and she looked at you. You presented her with your name, and she meowed.

When she was sick of the attention, she jumped down and walked to the bathroom, where you heard the telltale signs of her munching on her food.

“What were you saying?”

Viktor’s face was the definition of relaxed, the concern from before being replaced with a soft gaze and smile. 

Was the need to come clean to him about his cosmic twin attempting to end the world worth him losing his peace? Would the information you were about to vomit change what he has so carefully built?

“I…think I just need to eat.” You gave him a bright smile, and he laughed quietly.

“Very well.” He got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen counter, and you followed him. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You already were, the familiar floor plan making you feel at home. You sat at the dinner table watching him open his fridge and take out some glass containers with food and place them in the oven to heat up. 

Viktor sat on a chair next to you and slowly took off his leg brace, sighing in release.

“If you want to, you can shower. I can go ask Madame Theroux, my neighbor, if she can let me borrow one of her kid's old clothes… I think she might have something that fits you.” 

“Oh no…That’s too much of a bother.”

“Nonsense.” He got up and grabbed a discarded cane that was hooked on the divider and walked towards his bedroom. 

After a while, he came out holding two fluffy towels and handed them to you. “She probably already heard I have company; might as well come clean sooner than later; otherwise she’ll be knocking on my door to snoop.”

“Sounds like a charm.” You grabbed the towels.

“She is actually. She’s very protective of us…the people in the building.” He smiled and mentioned the bathroom door. “If you could just leave the door ajar so Nono can come in and out…otherwise she will throw a tantrum.”

The black cat, now curled up on the couch, meowed at hearing her name. You nodded and walked to the bathroom while Viktor made his way to his neighbor's door.

“Oh…you can use whatever you need from there.” He opened the door and paused again. “There’s a robe on the back of the door if you need it.”

The door clicked shut, and you looked at Nono, who looked up at you and blinked slowly.

The bathroom was big, and while in the other dimension, it was just a well, normal bathroom; this one had been enhanced to help Viktor with his disability.

There were grab rails next to the slightly raised toilet and in the shower nook. All of the towel racks were sturdy enough to assist if he needed.

The floor had several thin anti-slip rugs, and the shower also had one that looked like wood. 

There was also a stool inside the shower that you assumed he would use when needed.

You and Viktor in your timeline had once talked about this, making his house accessible for when he needed it, but his answer had been dismissive. A shrug and an ‘I spend more time in the lab anyway.’ Maybe you should have insisted; maybe you should have been more enthused about making it easier for him. Maybe if you had, he would have seen you in a better light after he had gotten the news.

It frustrated you that ‘maybes’ were all you had now. Even if you went back to your dimension, those things would still be in a maybe and if pile.

You heard the door close and started your shower quickly. You heard a knock on the door.

“There is a chair outside the door, in arm's reach for you to take. Madame Theroux said she threw in some undergarments…I didn’t check.” 

“Thank you.” 

You finished the shower and grabbed the clothes. Some red cotton checkered bottoms, a matching shirt, a white undershirt, and undergarments. It looked cozy, and it did fit you perfectly. This brought up the question of how Viktor had described you to the neighbor for her to get accurate measurements.

Walking out of the bathroom intent on joking about it with him, you stopped when you saw him haul a blanket and what you assume was a pillow to the couch.

“Oh. You are done.” He smiled, grabbed some clothes from the back of the couch, and walked towards you. “I think the food will be done soon. I am going to take a shower too, and then we eat, yes?”

You were still looking at the pillow and the sheet that was already tucked into the sofa. 

“This for me?” You blurted it out before he passed you, and he shook his head.

“No. You’re my guest. You sleep on the bed.” He sounded proud of himself. “May I?”

Viktor pointed to the door of the bathroom, and you noticed you had been blocking his path. You took a step forward, and he smiled, walked inside, and pushed the door almost closed.

The ruffling of clothes snapped you out of your stupor, and you walked towards the kitchen, throwing daggers at the couch.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @kitewa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd @jazzypop-op @jojo-at-heart @deceivethedreamer

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, here’s the arrival of part 3 of “Just Tired”. I’m so glad that there’s been so much interest in this series! I’m wanting to make this series as realistic as possible for someone going through it as I still struggle with the trauma for when I went through it, even though I escaped him at the end of 2021. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I was listening to Angel Eyes by ABBA as it seemed fitting lol. Would have posted this earlier but I was watching the chiefs get their asses handed to them. Go Birds! 🦅

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Just Tired -Part 3

Warnings: Manipulation relationship, small masturbation part, Melissa going through some confusion

Words: 3.75

You awake at 5am to your alarm going off and you shut it off before you get ready. You hop in the shower and in there you can’t help your mind drift to Melissa and how beautiful she looks, even when she was downright ignoring you.

“Stop it, mind! She’s married.” You remind yourself. But that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering down to your clit and start circling it.

You lean against the shower wall and close your eyes as you picture Melissa being there. You imagine how her lips would feel all over you, how she might make you come. Would she want to use her tongue or her fingers or even a strap? You honestly wouldn’t say no to any of those if she was asking. You then feel yourself right at the edge and you start circling faster and then you come. You quickly have your shower and then you get ready and leave at 6:30. You walk up to her house at 6:58 and you knock on her door. She opens the door a few seconds later and she takes your breath away.

“Hey Y/n, just gotta grab my things then we can go.” She says and you nod.

“Alright.” You say and then take a step back and watch as she gathers all her things. When you step back you notice her ‘Go Away!’ welcome mat and you snort. “Nice mat.” You tell her as she steps outside and she smiles.

“It’s to ward off unwanted visitors.” She says as she locks the door.

“Does it work?”

“Most of the time, yes.” She says and you both walk to her car. “Apparently it doesn’t work on family.” She adds and you smile.

“Good to know.” You tell her. “So you giving me rides, does this make us acquaintances?” You ask her and she looks at you before starting the car.

“No, this is me just helping someone in need, and I’m not going out of my way to help them.”

“So you have a heart then.” You say and she rolls her eyes at you before bringing the car onto the street. “So is the husband not up?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“He doesn’t get up until another half hour. He doesn’t have to be at the fire station until 9.” She tells you.

“He’s a firefighter?” You ask her and she nods.

“Yep.” She says and you take your phone out and go on your social media. You look up Melissa on Facebook and then you click on the name where it says who she’s married to and see a picture of him.

“And what exactly do you see in this… Joe?” You ask her and she looks at you quickly before turning her attention back to the road.

“Did you just look at my account?” She asks.

“Obviously. But what exactly do you see in him? I mean there’s ones much better looking than him.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’m gay not blind.” You tell her and she snorts.

“We met in college and he was really nice to me. He kept talking to me, giving me gifts that he knew I’d like, listening to what I say, wanting to spend all his free time with me, even before he asked me out.” She tells you and two words come to your mind when she says this, love bombing. You don’t say anything as it’s not your place and it was probably like over 20 years ago and you’re sure things are different now.

“So why are you so closed off?” You ask her to change the subject.

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” She asks.

“I don't normally, only when something catches my interest.” You say and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“And I caught your interest?” She asks and you nod.

“You seem like an interesting person, and you wanting to say nothing about your life only makes you more interesting. You’re a mystery.” You tell her.

“And I like to remain a mystery.” She tells you.

“You know I could probably just ask Barb questions about if I really want, I mean you two seem close.” You say.

“Barb and I have been best friends for over a decade and she knows I like my privacy. She won’t tell you a thing.” She says to you and you lean back in the seat and pout.

“Are we close enough for me to at least know your favourite colour?” You ask her.

“It’s pink.” She says and you give her a weird look. “What?”

“The badass of Abbott likes pink? I would have never guessed that.”

“What’s wrong with pink?”

“It’s seen as a colour for little girls, especially when Barbie came out.” You explain.

“Alright, what colour do you like?” She asks.

“F/C.”

“Ok, interesting.” She says as she pulls up into the parking lot of Abbott and then you both get out and walk into the building.

*In the break room*

“I’m telling you that I saw Melissa purposely go up and start talking to Y/n. And not only that but it seemed like there was some attraction there as well.” Janine tells Jacob.

“It doesn’t matter for Melissa if there’s attraction, she’s married to a nice ma… she’s married.” Barb tells them. “She has never cheated on him and she doesn’t intend to. And has never thought about leaving him either…even though she should.” Barb adds and she gets a weird look from Janine and Jacob.

Just then you and Melissa both enter the break room and everyone looks at you both.

“What are youse looking at?” Melissa asks them.

“This is the third day where you get here at the same time.” Jacob says as you go to sit down with him and Janine.

“We just end up getting here at the same time. Is that a crime?” You ask them.

“Ok what about yesterday? I saw Melissa and you talking and smiling.” Janine asks you.

“Janine, what exactly are you asking?” You ask her and cross your arms.

“Is there an attraction between you two?” She bluntly asks. “You have mentioned you’re into hot older gingers and Melissa fits that.” She adds.

“Ok, first of all, Melissa and I were talking about our job yesterday as she was nice enough to give me pointers. Second of all, yes Melissa is a hot older ginger but she’s married and we’re not even acquaintances as Melissa very clearly told me that she barely talks to newbies.” You tell everyone and they shut up after that.

“So what pointers did Melissa give you yesterday?” Janine asks after a couple minutes.

“She told me to not do my lesson plan so far in advance and expect to fall behind, don’t be too stressed that it’s my first year of teaching on my own and she generously took a look at my first week lesson plan and said it was good and the kids will enjoy it.” You tell them and you weren’t lying as Melissa did actually tell you all those things.

“Melissa, you gave her that advice?” Barb asks her and Melissa nods.

“I don’t like communicating with newbies but the kid looked like she was gonna have a panic attack, I wasn’t gonna sit by and do nothing.” Melissa tells her.

“Oh Janine and Jacob, would you help me hang a few things that require 2 people?” You ask them and they immediately nod.

“As long as it’s not on a ladder.” Janine says and you nod.

“You’re not climbing a ladder, it’s not high.” You tell her.

Melissa watches from her desk as you and Jacob hang some stuff up and Janine directs you both to make sure it’s straight. Melissa’s mind starts to wander. She doesn’t know why but you seem to have caught her interest a bit. Her telling you her husband doesn’t forgive her just honestly slipped out and she doesn’t why she said it. Of course her husband forgives her every time. And then she tries to remember when was the last time he said he’s sorry and she can’t remember.

“I’m telling you it’s straight.” She hears Janine says.

“It doesn’t look straight to me.” She hears you counter. She then gets up and leans against her doorframe with her arms crossed. She sees you and Janine a few feet away from her and you’re looking at your board.

“You two are loud.” She says and catches both of your attention.

“How about we ask Melissa?” You tell Janine.

“No, she’ll just side with you as you’re friends.” Janine counters.

“Ya, we’re not friends.” Melissa says and goes to stand beside Janine and looks at the board. “And it’s not straight.” She says and sees you sticking your tongue out at Janine. “It’s a little high on the left.” She adds and then goes back to her door. “Try to keep it down this time.” She says and then walks inside her classroom.

At lunchtime she gets there before anyone else does and takes a few seconds to decompress as she gets her salad out. Everyone else comes in about a minute later and Barb gets her lunch and sits down and immediately notices Melissa is looking stressed.

“Are you alright?” Barb asks her.

“Ya, just a headache.” Melissa says softly.

Barb knows that she’s lying. But she also knows Melissa enough to know that she’s not ready to say anything and she’ll tell her when she is ready.

“Want some ibuprofen?” You ask since you heard as you were at the coffee maker. “I always carry some as I can get some painful cramps when menstruating. And that’s probably too much information.” You immediately say and it gets Melissa to crack a smile.

“It’s not that type of headache, but thanks hon.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

“Want some coffee? New batch is ready.” You offer and she nods and gives you her coffee mug.

“Thanks kid.” She says as you hand her the mug back with coffee.

“Y/n, do you have any plans this weekend?” Janine asks you as you join her and Jacob at the table.

“Probably just watch the game, I hope the Eagles hand the cowboys their asses.” You say and you don’t notice Melissa smiling at that comment.

“What about you?” You ask her and she goes into some detailed plan about what her and Tariq are doing this weekend.

When lunch ends, you all get up to go but Melissa stops you and Janine.

“Just wanted to let you both know that around February is when I do this Peter Rabbit art project with the kids and each of your second graders can join as well.” She says to you both.

“Oh that sounds exciting. What do they usually make?” You ask her.

“A rabbit face from paper plates.” She says.

“Oh that sounds fun, definitely count my class in as it sounds exciting. Y/n is your class going to join?” Janine asks.

“Definitely count my class in as well, they’ll enjoy that.” You tell Melissa and she nods before she goes back to her classroom.

At the end of the day, you pack up your things and you head out the door and you run into Jacob and Janine and you have a conversation with them for a few minutes before they both head to their cars. You start to head to the bus stop when Melissa stops you.

“My car is the other way.” She tells you and you turn around to face her.

“I didn't know how long your offer was by driving me home.” You tell her.

“Until you can get gas in your car.” She says and you smile before following her to her car. You both don’t notice everyone watching you both as you get in Melissa’s car.

“Thanks again.” You tell her as you do up your seatbelt and she pulls out. “So how long have you done the Peter Rabbit project for?” You ask her.

“Since I started working here, almost 15 years ago.” She tells you. “By the way, do you really think I’m hot?” She asks you and you furrow your eyebrows. “You told Janine that in the break room this morning.” She clarifies.

“Well of course you are. You honestly don’t need all that makeup.” You tell her and you see her smiling and a hint of a blush on the cheek that you see.

Melissa gets home a few minutes after dropping you off and she immediately goes to the kitchen for a glass of wine. She takes a deep breath after she takes a few sips and puts her head in her hands. She keeps getting compliments and praises from you and she doesn’t know how to react. She then realises that it’s been awhile since she received any from Joe and a tear slips down her cheek but she quickly wipes it off.

“Don’t cry, I’m not sensitive.” She tells herself and takes a big sip of her wine.

She has 2 glasses of wine and ends up falling asleep on the couch. When Joe gets home, he leaves her be and goes to reheat leftovers and watches tv in the bedroom. Melissa gets home a couple hours later and immediately goes to eat. After she eats she hears the tv on upstairs and goes to see Joe.

“Finally awake?” Joe asks her and she nods her head.

“You could have woken me up.” She tells him.

“I wanted to watch tv by myself anyway without being asked for cuddles or any kisses.” He tells her.

“I’m sorry, I know sometimes I might be too needy and I’m trying not to be.” She tells him and she goes downstairs to watch tv by herself.

She falls asleep on the couch again and wakes up around 4am. She gets her phone out and sees that it’s dead so she charges it as she makes breakfast. She eats and then she puts some in a container for Joe when he gets up. She gets ready for work and then she goes outside a few minutes early and sees you pull up on your bike.

“I woke up late but I don’t remember biking being this tiring.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.

“You can leave it in the backyard for now.” She tells you and you nod. You come back out a couple minutes later and you get in the car.

The car ride this time was pretty quiet as you tried to make conversation but wasn’t getting replies. She pulls up 10 minutes later and you both get out and walk inside. This time you actually don’t head to the break room, you turn into your hallway and head to your classroom instead. It takes Melissa about 30 seconds to notice as she was in her own world and wanted to question you but you were too far ahead.

“Did you and Y/n not arrive at the same time today?” Barb asks her.

“No, I saw her come in, she went to her classroom for whatever reason.” Melissa explains.

“Interesting thing yesterday, I saw her get in your car when we were all leaving for the day.” Barb says and everyone looks at Melissa.

“Oh, well that’s none of youse businesses.” Melissa says. Right after she says that, you walk in and you head straight for the coffee machine.

“Y/n, we all saw you go in Melissa’s car yesterday.” Janine immediately tells you and you shrug.

“Cool.” Is all you say and pour yourself a cup and head back to your classroom. Janine and Jacob sensed something must be wrong and follow you out.

“So Melissa, now that we’re alone, want to tell me what’s happening?” Barb asks Melissa.

“On Tuesday I saw Y/n on the side of the road in my neighbourhood and she said she ran out of gas. I’ve just been giving her rides as she lives like a minute away from me, that’s all.” Melissa explains.

“Well that’s nice of you.” Barb says and really looks at Melissa. “Is something wrong?”

“What do you think of Joe?” Melissa asks her and Barb tilts her head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Y/n has actually given me compliments in the week she’s been here, more compliments than Joe has given me in the past year. So what does that say?” Melissa asks her.

“That Joe doesn’t give compliments.” Barb simply says. “Melissa, I’ve given my opinion on Joe many times over a decade ago and you always gave reasons why I was wrong. I stopped trying as you kept defending your marriage with him.”

“Well you never had a lot of nice opinions about him but you never knew him like I do.” Melissa states.

“You’re right, I don’t. And I hope he’s changed since then.” Barb says and goes back to her cup of coffee.

*Your classroom*

“So you went on a date 2 months ago with a girl, but stayed friends and she invited you to watch the game at a bar this weekend?” Janine says and you nod.

“I thought like everyone else that she’d just forget me and we’d never talk again.” You tell them.

“So you have a new friend, what’s the problem?” Jacob asks you.

“She’s a little crazy.” You tell them. “I’m just hoping that after the game, she never wants to speak to me again.” You add.

Melissa gets to her classroom and sees your door is closed but can see Jacob and Janine standing near your desk from the little window on the door.

The morning goes by quickly for Melissa, and before she knows it, it’s lunchtime and she heads to the break room and gets her lunch.

“So I was notified this morning by a parent of one of my students that I’m getting.” You say to Janine and Jacob.

“And what did they want?” Janine asks.

“They wanted to let me know that they tested their daughter over the summer and apparently this kid is dyslexic.” You tell them and that catches Melissa’s attention and she turns around to look at you.

“Do you know how to teach a dyslexic child?” Melissa asks you and you shake your head.

“No, but I could just google some ways to help her.” You tell her and she nods and goes on her phone.

You go to your classroom and an hour later Melissa walks in and closes your door behind her and walks up to your desk where you’re arranging some papers.

“Melissa, what can I-”

“Can you switch the dyslexic kid over to my class?” She asks you and you tilt your head.

“Why?” You ask her.

“I can help her better.” She states and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Look I know I’m new but I’m pretty sure I’m not an idiot.” You say and she sighs.

“It’s not about you being new, it’s the fact that you can’t relate to her.” She says and the gears in your head are turning until it dawns on you.

“You’re dyslexic?” You ask her and she nods.

“I haven’t had a student who’s dyslexic and I feel like I can help her the same way that I was.” She says and you smile.

“Of course, want to go to the principal to make the transfer right now?” You ask her and she looks taken back.

“Wait, you’re not going to say no?” She asks and you shrug.

“Since you’re dyslexic then you might be the best teacher to help her.” You tell her and you go to your door. “Come on, let’s go see Principal Coleman.” You say and she follows you to Ava’s office.

“What do you two want?” Ava asks you.

“We want to transfer a student from my class to Melissa’s class.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes before she gets to one of the women in the office and you follow her.

“Can you do a classroom transfer?” She asks her and the woman nods. “She’ll help you with that.” Ava tells you both and you nod.

“Thank you.” You say and you and Melissa get the transfer done. “I’ll also send you the email that the parents sent me. They said a couple ways that they’ve noticed have helped her.” You tell Melissa on the way back and she nods.

“Ok, thank you.” She tells you and you nod.

“I’ll also notify the parents and tell them about the transfer.” You tell her and she nods. “Do you mind if I tell them that you’re dyslexic as well?” You ask her.

“No, that’s alright. It’ll probably make them happier that their daughter’s teacher has the same thing.” She says.

“Alright, I’ll forward you the email right away.” You tell her and go inside your classroom.

Melissa receives the email a few minutes later and sees the ways to best help her and writes it down.

She goes through the rest of what she needs to get done and finishes about an hour before the day ends. She stays on her phone for the rest of the day and waits a few minutes for you in the parking lot.

“You waited for me?” You ask her as she’s leaning against her car.

“Well I offered you rides, plus your bike is at my place.” She says. “I’m gonna drive to my place and you can bike home.” She tells you and you nod.

“Sounds good.” You say.

Melissa drives you both to her place and you go to get your bike right away.

“Hey Melissa.” You say as you come out with your bike and she looks at you. “I can probably actually just bike to and from school.”

“You ran out of breath biking for like 5 minutes. How are you going to survive for another 30 minutes?” She asks you and you shrug. “Mm, I’ll see you Monday at 7.” She tells you and then goes inside. You put your helmet on, get on your bike and start biking back home. Melissa watches from the window as you leave and she sighs. “What the fuck am I doing?” She says out loud and goes to get some wine and chocolate.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[ruggiesbiologicalfather]

i've been struck by inspiration

here's my ranking of twisted wonderland students by how likely i'd be to let them behind the wheel of a car. this is gonna be a long one bc i'm including explanations of course. (and i know that in-game it's rare to be able to drive, we're ignoring that and pretending it's common to drive around)

1. Leona: canonically, he can drive and drive well. i feel like this was an easy one. but it makes sense!

2. Vil: he just has so many random skills that i feel like driving would be no problem at all. honestly, there's not much that i think vil CAN'T do

3. Trey: everything about him screams Responsible Driver. he would definitely play chauffeur for heartslabyul whenever they need to go somewhere. AND he'd have snacks in the glove compartment. 10/10 ride

4. Jamil: he can absolutely drive well - near perfect i'd argue. what's the alternative? let KALIM drive? get real. it's his duty to get where he needs to go safely

5. Jack: the self-discipline that this boy possesses is unrivaled. he would be locked in behind the wheel. he spent so long becoming the best driver he can be and by god, he's gonna prove it

6. Deuce: LISTEN TO ME, LISTEN! he's really good on that blastcycle which is more dangerous and difficult (said as a former bike/atv guy). a car is nothing to him. plus he's on his Honor Student streak so he's trying his best. my only worry is speed. slow it down, friend

7. Epel: similar to deuce. farm kids learn to drive really early in their lives. HOWEVER... driving safely?? hmmmm... his biggest flaws are going too fast and whipping around curves when no one else is on the road

8. Riddle: he would definitely follow all the road rules. to the letter. every trip would take an extra 30 minutes to an hour. no music, windows up, silence. he won't even let YOU be on your phone lest he become distracted. also ROAD RAGE. interstate driving would get very scary

9. Ortho: fuck it, let the robot give it a shot

10. Azul: i feel like once he figured out the mechanics, he would be fine on the road. however, if he got pulled over he would definitely argue with the cop and get us both arrested. so... i'm gonna pass

11. Jade: yes, we're getting where we need to go. but... nefariously. and there's something in the trunk. i feel like he'd also randomly go "oops" just to freak out his passengers. "what do you mean OOPS?" "don't worry about it :)"

12. Ruggie: there's a wildness to my boy that drove his ranking down. he would definitely drive a jeep with the doors off. music blasting, wind whipping around everywhere. it would be a fairly safe drive but not a particularly enjoyable one. also i would fall out

13. Silver: i don't know, i feel like he would be chill. i put him low bc briar valley doesn't have cars so his driving education would be quite scarce and he'd be a new driver. but he could get the job done. probably

14. Sebek: similar to silver but he needs to relax. malleus is fine, we're just going to walmart

15. Ace: he just gives off the vibe of "16-year-old kid in the car his dad bought for him." never lets anyone merge, hits curbs, can never figure out the speed limit, etc, etc. even worse if deuce is in the car! "ace, watch out for the mailbox!" "don't tell me what to- *BANG*"

16. Cater: gay people can't drive

17. Rook: distracted driver. god forbid there's wildlife around, he would turn 180 in his seat to look at it. this Oh Shit Handle is getting some use. also i KNOW his car would be shit. i don't care that his family is rich, he's driving a 2003 hyundai sonata

18. Floyd: LISTEN! there's a 50/50 shot that everything goes perfectly fine. like as long as he's in a good mood, he can get the job done. you definitely just have to check in before you buckle up. get ready to tuck and roll

19. Malleus: what is a car?

20. Idia: there's so much anxiety there i feel like one thing would go slightly left and he'd almost pass out. he's white-knuckling the wheel, praying that no one else is on the road. it's alright buddy, you can be a passenger princess

21. Kalim: No.

22. Grim + Yuu: okay, for this one it's a joint effort. yuu at the wheel and grim on the pedals. there's so much chaos and screaming. four-way stops don't exist. yellow lights are green and red lights are yellow. the horn has not stopped honking since the engine started. this is an emergency situation ONLY. like someone is bleeding out in the backseat and no one is answering their phones

23. Lilia: absolutely not. i will walk

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[n0cturn4]

In every universe

1.

-"Did you know you’re my favorite part of the day?"

- "Really? And why’s that?"

- "Because when I’m with you, the world just feels… right."

2.

- "You know what I like most about you?"

- "What?"

- "Everything I never knew I was looking for."

3.

- "Why are you looking at me like that?"

- "Because I’m trying to understand how someone can be this amazing."

4.

- "When did you realize you liked me?"

- "When I realized that any place with you was where I wanted to be."

5.

- "Do you have any idea how happy you make me?"

- "I hope it’s as much as you make me."

6.

- "Promise you’ll never leave?"

- "I don’t know what’s harder… leaving you or promising to stay forever, knowing I’d never want to go."

7.

- "I love the peace you bring me."

- "And I love knowing that I’m your safe place."

8.

- "Why are you smiling like that?"

- "Because I realized that just looking at you feels like home."

9.

- "Do you think we’ll find each other in other lives?"

- "If it’s up to me, I’ll find you in every one of them."

10.

- "What do you want me to do for you?"

- "I want you to stay just the way you are. You’re already everything."

11.

- "If you could wish for anything right now, what would it be?"

- "I’d wish for one more minute with you… and then another, and another…"

12.

- "You know you make me kind of nervous, right?"

- "But is that good or bad?"

- "It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

13.

- "Tell me, what did you see in me?"

- "I saw exactly what I needed… someone who makes me want to be better."

14.

- "Why do we fit so well together?"

- "Because I’m the calm, and you’re the storm I love facing."

15.

- "Why are you so special to me?"

- "Maybe because you see me, even when I try to hide."

16.

- "Did you know I miss you even when we’re together?"

- "Why?"

- "Because I know that when the day ends, I’ll have to let you go… even if it’s just until tomorrow."

17.

- "What am I to you?"

- "You’re the one person who somehow became everything to me."

18.

- "Do I make you happy?"

- "Happy isn’t enough… you make my heart feel at peace."

19.

- "What if one day we drift apart?"

- "Then I’ll find a way to fall in love with you all over again."

20.

- "If you could change anything about me, what would it be?"

- "Nothing. Every detail about you is exactly what makes my heart race."

21.

- "Do you ever think about the day we met?"

- "All the time. It was the beginning of everything I didn’t know I was waiting for."

22.

- "If I could, I’d capture every moment with you in a jar."

- "And what would you do with it?"

- "Open it on the days when I need to feel your presence close."

23.

- "Sometimes I wonder if I dreamed you."

- "And what if you did?"

- "Then I’d choose to never wake up."

24.

- "Do you realize how bright you make my world?"

- "Then let me be your light, even in the darkest hours."

25.

- "What is it that keeps you coming back to me?"

- "It’s like the tide and the shore—I’m drawn to you endlessly, without reason or question."

26.

- "Do you ever worry that one day you’ll stop loving me?"

- "I worry that there won’t be enough lifetimes to love you as much as you deserve."

27.

- "Tell me, if you could choose one place to be, where would it be?"

- "In the space between your heartbeat and mine."

28.

- "Why do you look at me like that?"

- "Because every time I look, I see a new kind of beautiful in you."

29.

- "What’s the first thing you think of when you wake up?"

- "How lucky I am that you’re in my life… and that you’re real."

30.

- "Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you."

- "Maybe. But if you’re here, it means the universe has been kind."

31.

- "What would you do if one day I was gone?"

- "I’d search for you in every star, every breeze, every memory we made."

32.

- "Why do you love me?"

- "Because you’re the poem I could spend a lifetime writing and never finish."

33.

- "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we’d never met?"

- "A little less bright, a little less real. You’re the reason my heart believes in magic."

34.

- "What do you see when you look at me?"

- "I see every answer to every question I never knew I had."

35.

- "Do you feel the same way I do?"

- "If love had a sound, it would be the way my heart beats whenever you’re near."

36.

- "What do you think we are?"

- "Two souls who were always meant to find each other, no matter how many lifetimes it took."

37.

- "How do you know you love me?"

- "Because even in silence, being with you feels like home."

38.

- "If love could be seen, what would ours look like?"

- "Like the ocean meeting the sky—endless, beautiful, and impossible to contain."

39.

- "Do you think you’ll ever tire of me?"

- "Only if a flower tires of blooming toward the sun."

40.

- "How do you feel when we’re apart?"

- "As if I’m waiting to breathe, holding my heart until I see you again."

[kawaiiblossoms04]

A Day in a Life—Dating Nanami Kento: A Love Story in Financial Planning Pt.3 | Nanami x Reader

Remember, Bestie Dating Nanami is not for the weak. 

This is a man who believes romance is a logical decision, not an emotional one.

Love? Affection? Pillow talk? 

No, bestie. 

This man schedules quality time like it's a board meeting.

You text him "I miss you ❤️"and he responds, 

"Understood. I can be available for dinner at 7:30 PM. Does that work for you?"

SIR.

It drives you crazy, but some part of you melts when you imagine him setting his alarm to make you his priority. It just...makes sense, you know?

You enjoy getting lost in the crowd around the farmer's market when his arm slips over your shoulders and steadies you. The soft squeeze he gives you brings a little smile to your face and his warm murmur reminds you, "We still have time."

Because Nanami wants you to find the freshest vegetables and fruits and buy the prettiest bouquet without having to worry about finding him at the end. You turn and his eyes are already fixed on you, and they sweep down your figure before rising again. His lips quirk a bit when they meet yours and it makes you melt every damn time.

However, Dates with Nanami: A Budgeting Nightmare

Oh, you think you're going on cute, spontaneous dates with Nanami? 

No, bestie. 

You're going on economically responsible outings.

You want to grab brunch? Nanami is already shaking his head at the overpriced avocado toast. 

You order a cocktail? This man is squinting at the menu like he's reading the fine print on a lease.

"Eighteen dollars for a cocktail? Ridiculous."

SIR. IF YOU DON'T RELAX AND DRINK YOUR OVERPRICED SCOTCH. 

And don't even think  about pulling out your wallet—because Nanami refuses to let you pay. 

"It would be against the ethics of our relationship," he says, all business-like, while handing his card to the waitress. You open your mouth, because your parents didn't raise a freeloader, when his finger taps against your lips. "Not a word. Consider it an investment," he says as his finger turns up at the edge of his glasses.

Nanami's Texting Game: Corporate and Cold

Nanami does not do good morning texts.

✔You : "Good morning, babe! ☀️ I hope you have a great day! ❤️"

✔ Nanami (seen at 8:02 AM, responds at 4:52 PM): "Hello."

✔ You: "HELLO? THAT'S IT?!"

✔ Nanami: "What else is there to say?"

You try to flirt? 

You send "I miss you 🥺"and he responds with: 

Nanami (seen at 10:12 AM, no reply.)

Nanami (10:15 AM, Zelle: $30).

Message: "Get your favorite coffee. I'll see you later."

SIR. I AM FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE. 

And FaceTiming him is a battle.

He answers immediately—but he is NOT happy about it.

You're sitting there all cute, twirling your hair, and he's just staring at you like a disappointed father.

"What is it?" he asks.

SIR. CAN YOU PRETEND TO BE HAPPY TO SEE ME?! 

You speak first. "Just wanted to see you. We haven't FaceTimed all day. And since it's you're lunch hour I thought it's be ok. Sorry, um.. were you in a meeting?"

"Yes." He deadpans.

OMG.

Just then, an elderly woman starts cussing someone out in a different language, then talking about a refund, and Nanami frowns, adjusting his tie. "...Where are you?"

"Uh..." You quickly exit the Ulta and try to give a convincing grin. "Just on my way home."

You're lying trying to keep yourself in the center of the camera he doesn't see the display behind you and decide to have your ass financially excommunicated.

Meanwhile, he's trying to make sense of your surroundings while simultaneously responding to multiple emails and messages.

Nanami narrows his eyes.

"...Is that Ulta?"

"Uh, no?"

"I see a makeup display behind you."

FUCK.

"You just spent $200 on skincare last week."

"Skincare is an investment."

Another pause. His lips part slightly—like he's hesitating before speaking.

"So is your savings account and Roth IRA. And yet."

SIR. SIR. CAN YOU JUST PRETEND TO LOVE ME FIRST BEFORE DRAGGING ME???

Nanami glances offscreen.

"Actually, I'm about to run into a meeting with some important clients. Let me know when you make it back."

"I will, b—" And he hangs up.

WHAAAAAT?!

-

When you FaceTime again an hour later, he doesn't answer. He sends you a message 20 minutes later:

"This isn't the best time to talk, sorry."

BABE.

ARE WE FACETIMING, OR TEXTING, IT CAN GO EITHER WAY.

He doesn't call back for another eight hours. You fall asleep staring at your phone. When you wake up, the green icon says he read your messages, but not a word. No apology, no explanation—nothing. You're halfway through an angry rant in your head, before you hear his keys jangle outside your apartment door. He leans against the doorway and studies you with his brow raised. He knows. Of course, he knows.

And when Nanami finally meets you half way, it makes everything worth it.

Being Romanced by a Spreadsheet in Human Form 

Nanami does not plan dates.

He optimizes them. 

This man has an Excel sheet for everything.

A list of restaurants with the best price-to-quality ratio.

A personal budget report for how much money you've saved since dating him.

A shared Google Calendar invite for your next date night 

The Relationship Dynamic

Nanami is the type of man to tell you he likes you in the most passive, emotionally unavailable way possible.

He's not gonna say "I love you."

No, he's gonna refill your gas tank and hope you figure it out.

He remembers your favorite coffee order. 

You casually mention your favorite perfume—BOOM, a new bottle appears.

He keeps cough drops in his pocket just in case you get sick.

Or fix something in your apartment without saying a word.

You never have to ask, because he's already three steps ahead of you.

And if you ever ask him why he doesn't communicate his emotions,he's just sighing, taking a slow sip of whiskey, mumbling:

"Words are meaningless without action."

SIR. PLEASE JUST SAY YOU LOVE ME

But say something sweet to him? 

You: "I feel so safe with you." 

Nanami: "That's an efficient use of my presence." 

SIR. 

HAVE YOU EVER SINCERELY EXPRESSED A FEELING, LET ALONE CRUSHED ON SOMEONE, IN YOUR LIFE?

PDA? Not in This Economy.

Nanami does NOT do unnecessary affection. 

Hand-holding? Limited to crossing the street.

Kissing in public? Absolutely not. 

Cuddling? Only if it's cold, and even then, it's purely for efficiency.

But if you ever lean into him while you two are out? 

This man will freeze up like he just got drafted into war.

Meanwhile, his hand is already in his pocket, Zelle-ing you $50 because he does not know how to handle emotions.

SIR. I JUST WANTED A HUG. 

OHHHHH but The Sex: Silent But Deadly

Oh, and let's talk about sex with Nanami.

Because this man does NOT do casual hookups.

If Nanami is fucking you, he wants to own your soul.

This is a man who fucks like he's closing a business deal.

Does this man use a condom?

Hell, yeah, he does.Everything is controlled, calculated, efficient—until you make one sound, and now he's lost in the sauce.

You think Nanami is quiet in bed? 

NO, BESTIE. 

This man is repressed.

The moment you reach in to your nightstand and there's no condoms.

His gaze on you sharpens.

You let out a soft giggle, shifting onto your knees beside him.

"I mean, we wouldn't be in such an, uh," you said with a light giggle. "Well we wouldn't be having this type of accident then."

UGH. Y/N. GET IT TOGETHER, HAHA

It takes him a second.

The pensive expression as he cocks his head and quirks an eyebrow.

Then, his brows shoot up at the realization.

"Condom, Y/n. Did you run out?" he asks.

Y-Yes."

"Hmm. Why didn't you buy more?"

WHAT?!

"B-Bu—u-uh, I forgot?!" You reply, feeling his hand sliding up your bare thigh.

His voice is deep, rich and commanding, a calm timbre as always.

"Would you like me to go purchase more? It won't take long."

WHAT KIND OF LOGISTICS-BASED SEDUCTION IS THIS?

W-why is your heart racing?

"NO—uh—wait—just—pull out?! We don't have to—uh—waste time with—uh—logistics?! We can—um—improvise??"

And then, suddenly, he's had enough.

His lips slam into yours—hot, demanding, final—swallowing every weak excuse before you can even breathe.

OH.

Fuck logistics I guess.

His strong arm wraps around your waist and guides you beneath him as his hot mouth hungrily kisses you.

F-Fuck.

Suddenly, his weight is against you, pushing you deeper into the mattress, his thick thigh parting your legs further.

He will be completely in control at first, moving at a steady pace, whispering, "Tell me if it's too much." 

But the moment you whimper? Moan? Scratch his back? 

It's over. 

Now he's gripping your wrists, pulling your hair, and hitting it from the back like there's no tomorrow.

SIR, DON'T FORCE MY ARM BACK LIKE THAT.

His hips stutter, like he's fighting himself—like he's holding back something he doesn't want to name.

"Shit," he grits out, his fingers flexing involuntarily.

And then?

He snaps.

His thrusts turn punishing, primal, unforgiving. His head tips back, lips parted, panting, as he twists your hair got a better grip.

"You're fucking ruining me," he growls, voice wrecked, raw, and almost... frustrated.

And then? He bites down.

Hard.

All business is gone.

Nanami loses himself.

But you already knew you did this to him.

So, you grab him, press him into the mattress, and you ride him so hard that he is rendered speechless.

You roll your hips slow, deliberate. Just to watch him break.

His hands slide down your thighs, gripping tight, like he needs to hold onto something before he falls apart.

"Shit," he hisses, his head tipping back.

His neck is tense, the vein at his throat pronounced.

You grind down harder.

"F-fuck," he exhales, his breath hitching, his control slipping.

And then? He does something he never does.

His fingers dig into your hips, and his voice drops into something desperate.

"Please," he breathes, the word gritted, forced, unintentional.

You freeze. Because this man does not beg.

Your lips curl. "Please what?"

His jaw clenches, but his grip tightens.

"Don't stop."

The most you can get out of him are primal grunts.

When you lean over him, moving slow so you don't fall on top of him, and trace the outlines of his lips with a finger, you see him visibly shudder. His jaw clenches as you brush back the strands of blond hair that stick to his sweat-drenched forehead.

His eyes are shut, the pulse in his neck visible, the veins in his biceps defined and strained. You run a finger up his arm and can see his skin react, tiny hairs standing on end. It almost tickles.

Your other hand moves lower, cupping his balls, and he exhales loudly, biting his bottom lip to keep from being louder. With another slow bounce, his body tenses—shaking for just a few seconds—before he grips the sheets, holding himself back. You smirk, giving him two long, torturously slow rolls of your hips before settling into a steady rhythm.

He thrusts with you, his hand clutching the bed sheet at his hip as the other gripping the headboard behind his head. Watching your breasts bounce with every roll of your hips, his jaw tightening each time your tight entrance sucked him in.

In one swift motion, he sits up, grips your waist, and flips you onto your back. As he starts to pound into you, his groans grow louder and deeper.

He stops to move your legs over his shoulders. In the shadows cast by the dim bedside table light, his cheekbones and eyebrows are exaggerated, his chest and arms more muscled and veined than usual. He opens his eyes, and for a second you wish you hadn't seen that dangerous glint. His hand slides along your ankle, gently squeezing.

You relax in the bed sheets, sinking into his strong grip and his steady movement. He keeps his eyes on you.

The usual restraint in his expression?

Gone.

His hand drags down your stomach, down your hip, gripping tight.

"Look at me," he orders, his breath shaky.

You do. And that's when you realize—

His jaw is clenched. His brow furrowed. His pupils, completely blown.

He is holding back something devastating.

"Keep looking at me," he warns. "Don't you dare fucking close your eyes."

You are not some object to him—a mere transaction.

You are an investment. A personal project.

Something he can pour hours of time and labor into,to reap its value when you bloom.

But finally after this man cums deep in you, you watch as the tension that never leaves his shoulders melt.

Now he's breathing heavy, cursing under his breath, and suddenly he's on his third round like, "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

SIR. YOU ARE AN ANIMAL.

And after he's completely ruined your life?

He's just sitting on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair, whispering:

"This was irresponsible."

He's referring to his little accident.

YOU MEAN THE FACT THAT YOUR CUM IS CURRENTLY MARINATING MY INSIDES?!

You pause.

Okay, yeah. This man needs to chill the fuck out, for real.

Nanami goes quiet again. You wrap your arms around him, holding his tight shoulders and hard muscles.

You see his jaw tighten again as he stares straight ahead. You press your chest against his back and hug him close. When you put your chin on his shoulder he exhales long, relaxing his shoulders again. He turns and your noses nudges his cheek, and his eyes seem sleepy, tired, but very satisfied. You move your lips to his and take his soft lower lip, dragging it slightly. You move your mouth against his. When he finally kisses back he groans, you're not sure what is going on in his head but he kisses you desperately.

"K-Kento, i-its okay! I was just as involved in not purchasing enough protection! I'll take care of everything in the morning. Plan B. No biggie."

Nanami just stares at you.

His fingers brush your thigh, slow, careful.

"...I'll go get it," he murmurs, eyes flickering across your face like he's memorizing you.

You shake your head. "I can—"

"No," he interrupts, his voice impossibly soft.

His lips brush your forehead.

"Stay here. I'll be back soon."

He sees your trembling expression, and just knows you aren't saying no big deal because you think it is no big deal.

He tries to comfort you, and runs a soothing hand on your back.

It's his way of showing you he's grateful, that this wasn't some messy affair.

"I apologize, I really shouldn't have put you in that position." He sighs. "In the future, I'll be sure to—"

SIR. YOU JUST GAVE ME THE BEST SEX OF MY LIFE, AND NOW YOU'RE HAVING A MORAL CRISIS?!

"It's ok...I really liked what just happened. That was, um...It was actually amazing. Can we maybe do it again, but with I'll get on the pill next time, though?" You ask hesitantly, and quietly, chuckling and blushing a tad, and when his arms encase your naked frame. He places a kiss against the side of your neck before his breath warms your earlobe and his rich baritone rumble hits your core, saying:

"Absolutely."

HE NEARLY DEAFENED YOU WITH THAT VOICE WHILE THE REASSURING KISS BURNS INTO YOUR MIND.

Part 1 & 2

Part 4🤭

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