#the kitchen is still more or less completely clean so I will take the day off from cleaning the kitchen and I have done dental and face

[azer1ck]

Wheeee nesting Thursday

[nsharks]

HC of Ghost and his gf/wife fighting pls?

a relationship with simon is far from easy

Simon comes home that first night while you’re asleep.

Kicks off his boots by the door and doesn’t even bother changing out of his uniform when he slips into bed beside you. You hadn’t seen him in six months, and you really wanted to pick him up from the airport, but he’d insisted gruffly over the phone that’d he find his own way home.

“Are you sure? You’re going to be tired-“

“Don’t,” he’d breathed on the other side. “Don’t push this. I’ll get a cab.”

You should’ve known right then and there what version of Simon was coming home to you. It was strange, almost like he didn’t want to see you.

You wake up when he gets in the bed, but his body feels cold and foreign next to you. He’s still clothed, and you imagined that he might wake you up to at least give you a kiss, but instead he says nothing. Just lays there, eyes closed, and you’re almost certain he’s pretending to be asleep so you don’t try talking to him.

Things only get worse from there.

Over the next few days, Simon lives up to his name. He’s uncomfortably quiet around you, except to complain about small, stupid things.

“I told you not to go through my stuff while I was gone,” he had grumbled one day. Noticing that you had moved one of his books from his bedside table.

“It was just that one book,” you’d said quietly. “I was trying to clean up before you-“

“‘Don’t go through my stuff’ means don’t touch anything. Is that understood?”

Your tongue poked your cheek. You didn’t want to push his buttons. “Understood. Sorry.”

You try your best to give him space.

But Simon’s presence is starting to get suffocating. He hasn’t kissed you once since coming home. You’d try asking him how his time was, if anything had happened that he wanted to talk about, but he’d just shake his head in irritation and say there’s nothing to talk about.

One evening, you come home from work after grabbing some takeout for dinner.

Simon’s in the bedroom when you arrive. Large frame hunched over his desk, headphones clamped over his masked ears, and the music is so loud you can hear it from the doorway.

“Babe, I brought dinner,” you tell him, tapping his shoulder.

He tenses from your touch but nods, shucking off the headphones and following you to the kitchen.

You don’t even get the chance to eat before he’s looking at you intently, asking, “Did you remember to grab the thing for my car?”

His car. You freeze by the kitchen counter. You’d completely forgotten; he’d asked you to get… something because his car hadn’t been working for him since he got back. You told him to just take it to the shop but he said could fix it himself.

“What thing again?” you practically squeak.

The air shifts. “The breaker bar.”

“No… no, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

You’re expecting it at this point, but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. Simon snaps. You see it in his eyes, a darkness flashing through them that you don’t see often. His hands roll up at his sides.

“Do you… know how to listen?” he asks coldly, voice low. “I told you where to find it and everything. You said you would.”

“I’ll get it tomorrow-“

“That’s not the point. First, you…” he’s shaking his head to himself, “First, you touch my stuff after I told you not to. And yesterday, you didn’t listen to me about-“

“Simon,” you cut him off, frowning. “I am not perfect. I make mistakes.”

“Well, you wouldn’t make so many mistakes if you just did what you’re told.”

His voice is at a level that makes you shiver. You normally love the sound of his voice, miss it like crazy when he leaves, but right now, it’s hurting you. Making your eyes turn damp and the hairs on your arms stand up.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you find the strength to snap at him. “You’re overreacting, Simon.”

“Overreacting?” He scoffs and you can see the veins on his forearms ticking. “This is more than… Do you know what happens when people make stupid mistakes? They fuckin’ die.”

In the back of your mind, you realize that Simon is unintentionally admitting to you what’s bothering him. Something happened. Something awful, something even he couldn’t just forget, and he brought it all the way home with him. Been taking it out on you all week long.

And on any other day, you might have had the patience to deal with it. But today, your durable patience is cracking at every seam, unable to handle the way he’s been treating you.

“Jesus, Simon, this isn’t a life or death situation,” you furrow your brows. “I’m not a soldier.”

“Thank god you’re not,” he barks. “You’d get everyone killed. Can’t follow simple fuckin’ instructions.”

“What are you trying to say? What, Simon? That I’m stupid?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes out through flared nostrils. “Maybe you are.”

Your patience is nowhere to be found as his words hang in the air. Hurt, and beyond fed up with him, you tear your wet eyes away from his darkened ones and walk away to the bedroom, locking the door behind you because you don’t want to be anywhere near him.

Soaking the pillows with your tears, you feel defeated. Six months without him had been painful; your heart aching whenever you made yourself a cup of tea, wishing he was there. You’d been so worried about him coming home, but now that he’s here, you wish he wasn’t. It feels hard to breathe, even as your tears dry and you lay there depleted.

You hear the shower run.

You hear shuffling around outside, somewhere in the living room.

Then finally, sometime after midnight, there’s the gentlest of knocks at the door.

“Can I come in?” a low voice hesitates on the other side.

You sit up on the bed and tell him yes. Once Simon’s in the room, the sight of him brings tears to your eyes once again. You thought you were done crying. You keep wiping at your cheeks, but he kneels in front of you and grabs your hands, replacing them with his own as he brushes his thumbs to your tears. It’s uncharacteristic of him to get on his knees like this. Submitting to you in remorse.

“Sorry,” he whispers. He bows his head. “I’ve been awful. You deserve… s’much better.”

“I can handle you ignoring me,” you croak. “I can’t handle you being mean, Simon.”

“No,” he narrows his eyes. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have to handle either of those.”

You nod in agreement as his hands splay over your thighs and rub them gently.

“Something’s hurting you,” you whisper carefully. “Something happened. Maybe… maybe you need to talk to someone.”

Hours ago, you might’ve worried about what he’d say. But now, his anger has dissipated, washed away by the hot shower he took and the sound of your crying in the bedroom. It pained him. He hated himself for not knowing how to deal with these feelings without being a dick to you.

Finally, head falling to your lap, he says, “Maybe I do.”

[schrodingers-romy]

Jilted (not) Lover [Mitsuya Takashi x Reader]

Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2,100 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Takashi is your best friend (who you have some more than friendly feelings for); so you don't understand why he never seems to want to spend time with you anymore.

Warnings: mild misunderstandings, kissing, no gendered terms for reader; reader is a bit insecure, and Takashi is a little less emotionally mature than normal.

Notes: wasn't feeling good so I finally sat down and wrote an idea I've had for a while. Probably needs more editing but I want to let it finally fly free

You thought nothing of barging into your best friend’s room; after all, he gave you a spare key for a reason. “Takashi!” you called excitedly. “They let me off work early today! Do you wanna maybe go out and do something? I heard there was a new—”

You were cut off before you could even finish. “I’m sorry,” Takashi said, not even bothering to raise his eyes from the patterns in front of him. “I really need to finish this today.”

“Oh,” you said, deflating slightly. “Well, I could just hang around here if you want some company. I can help too!”

Still, you received barely any acknowledgement. “I’ve got it, I just need to focus. I’ll see you later, though.”

Your smile felt brittle. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll go see Yuzuha then. Don’t forget to show me your new design when you’re done.”

The door clicked shut softly behind you.

Later, you heard from Yuzuha that Takashi went out to the arcade with Hakkai that same day. You were hurt, but you wanted to think the best. Takashi probably just finished early and assumed you were busy. It was nothing.

Except it wasn’t.

-

Ever since the two of you met in middle school, you had never gone more than a few days without hanging out. Throughout high school you basically lived at his house, becoming almost like another sibling to his sisters. Even once you both graduated and got different jobs, the two of you spent most of your free time together. (Enough time together for you to develop a horrible infatuation with him, at the very least.)

And yet, for two weeks straight Takashi had been completely blowing you off.

He was always busy with last minute designs, or he had to take his sisters to something, or he already had plans with Draken or Hakkai or the old Toman members. Normally, he would ask you to tag along, but he barely talked to you other than to let you know he couldn’t see you or spend time with you.

You never said anything, keeping a nonchalant tone around him. But god, did it hurt. You didn’t know what you did wrong to deserve this treatment; you couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he had just finally gotten tired of you and was trying to let you down easy.

You did your best to ignore those thoughts. It’s Takashi, you thought. If there was something wrong, he would communicate with you. It was probably nothing. (You needed to tell yourself that to keep from breaking down.)

-

Even though your relationship with Takashi was at a standstill, you still talked to his sisters.

Today, you had come over to make the girls lunch before they left to go hang out with their friends. Takashi hadn’t come out from his room when you called.

[“It’s fine,” you said, “I know he’s busy.”

The girls gave each other a look when they thought you weren’t paying attention. At least these Mitsuyas noticed something was up, you thought bitterly.]

They were long gone, after thanking you for the food and each giving you an awkward teenager hug on the way out. You have the rest of the day free, so you take your time cleaning the dishes, in the pathetic hope that Takashi will come out and you two will go back to normal.

You think that your prayers are answered when you see him come down the stairs. He seems a little surprised to see you still there, and he gives you a small, distracted smile. Your heart flutters as you smile back.

You think he’s coming towards you, but he walks right by the kitchen and heads towards the door instead. “Thanks for making lunch for the girls. I’m sure it was great,” he says, lingering for a moment. “You can leave the rest of the dishes; I’ll get them when I come back.”

“Oh. Where are you going?” you ask. You can hear a nearly imperceptible buzzing in your ears. You wonder if you’re angry or just sad; it’s hard to tell sometimes.

“Just out with Draken. I’ll see you later, yeah?” He’s already opening the door to leave.

You try to keep your composure, but the way you slam the plate as you set it on the counter is telling. “Yeah. See you later, I guess.” You wince. Even to your own ears, you sound bitchy. And you were doing so well in keeping it straight...  

There is a second of hesitation, and then the door closes. You busy yourself with drying the remaining dishes, not bothering to look up. Takashi probably left already.

But then you hear his footsteps as he comes into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.

You still don’t look at him. You hate how concerned he sounds. Because of course he noticed how snotty you sounded; it wasn’t subtle. And Takashi was nothing if not a mediator, so he would obviously want to talk it out. But now, even after praying for the barest scrap of his attention back, you want nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You aren’t ready for whatever sort of conversation this is going to be.

On one hand, you are still hurt by how he treated you, how he hung out with you less and less as he replaced you with Draken and Hakkai. On the other hand, you feel like you’re being nothing but a spoiled brat. Takashi doesn’t owe you anything; he’s nice, so this is probably his own way of letting you know that you were too clingy and that he needed space while trying to spare your feelings. You just don’t want to hear that out loud.

At this point, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Your own thoughts buzz in your head like a swarm of angry locusts, rattling to the ever-quickening beat of your heart in your ears. You don’t quite know if you want to cry or scream.

He’s right in front of you now; you can see his shoes sidle up next to your slipper-clad feet on the kitchen floor as you valiantly avoid eye contact.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he says, voice softening even more. Because of course he can tell you are getting more upset.

“Just go,” you say. You sound muffled in your own ears. “Go hang out with Draken, or Hakkai, or your other gang friends. I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up.”

“Oh, now that I want you to leave me alone, you won’t.”

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” He sounds a little offended now, and that just makes you angrier.

You spin around to face him for the first time. You can see how his eyebrows furrow, purple eyes glistening with concern as they take in your expression.

You lose your grip on your emotions. “Oh, what does that mean? I mean you’ve been ditching me for weeks now! Every time I come around, you’re too busy, or you already have plans with someone else!” You take a deep breath, trying to rein yourself in. “Look, if you don’t want to be around me anymore, just say something. Not any of this ‘hinting’ bullshit. Just…just say something…because I honestly don’t know what’s going on, Takashi.”

Your anger burnt through you quickly, like a flashfire, and you can feel your eyes starting to water.

Takashi looks stricken. One of his hands comes up to grip yours, using it to pull you into a tight hug. It only takes one murmur of your name, spoken gently into your hair as he tucks your head underneath his chin, for you to fully break.

There are tears streaming down your face now. You start to babble. “You’re my best friend, Takashi,” you say, pitifully. “I miss you.”

You feel his arms tighten around you, until you can almost feel your bones grinding together. It kind of hurts, but you are just happy to be held. His grip loosens soon enough, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eyes.

“I fucked up.” He smiles sadly at you. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. You’re my best friend to…but I couldn’t stay like that, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

You feel your heart drop; you don’t understand. “What’re you trying to say?”

He lets out a sigh, and then reaches to clasp both your hands in his. His eyes dart around the room, nervously, before settling back onto yours. There is a quiet intensity in them that he only has when things are serious. “I want to be more than friends. I like you…romantically. I realized it a few weeks ago…you were always so special to me, and I didn’t understand why until Draken pointed it out to me.”

He let out a light chuckle. “I treated you differently than I did everyone else because I had—have—a crush on you. I didn’t know what to do about it, so I started avoiding you. I thought I would blurt out something that would ruin our friendship. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I’m so sorry.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It seems so inconceivable that he would return your feelings. You don’t even know what to say, so you focus on the end of his short speech. “So much for being the emotionally intelligent one, huh?” you say, tone lighter than it has been this whole time.

He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, tilting his head down. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m better with other people’s problems than my own. But cut me some slack, this is the first time I’ve been in love with someone before.”

You freeze. “Love?”

He already told you he had a crush on you, but this brings your thoughts to a halt. Love is a much more serious claim than a simple crush.

Takashi seems to think so as well. His face shutters. It’s clear he didn’t mean to say that much, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Love. But it’s okay you don’t feel the same way. I’m good with just being friends. Or whatever makes you comfortable. Um. I owe you that much after being such a shithead, huh?” He looks uncomfortable, like he is just waiting for you to reject him. Like it’s inevitable.

You give him a sharp flick on the nose. “Idiot. Who says I don’t feel the same way.”

“…You do?”

You let out a snort, fighting to keep a grin off your face. “Like I wasn’t pining after you for years. God, Takashi, I follow you like a lovesick puppy, and you didn’t catch a hint?”

You open your mouth to say something else, but you’re swept back into his arms before you can. The two of you are face to face now; from here, you get the full force of his blinding grin. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes are nothing more than crescents of purple, his pretty eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks. He looks breathtaking.

You break out into your own smile, unable to keep the happiness off your face. You feel so light, lighter than you have in a long time. The knowledge that Takashi loves you is like a shot of dopamine straight to your brain; you feel nearly delirious from the sudden rush of happiness.

“I love you,” he says. He sounds so tender when he says it, you can’t help but tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing more than a peck, but the touch of his soft mouth against yours sends sparks through your body.

“I love you too,” you say.

He looks at you in awe, before he leans down to steal another kiss from your lips, this one longer, and deeper.

You never want to leave; you would happily spend forever standing in the middle of his kitchen, trading heartfelt kisses and basking in the warmth of your love with Takashi.

-

(Draken wonders what happened to Mitsuya; he missed their hangout without so much as a “can’t make it” text. He can only hope the other boy finally got the balls to confess his feelings to you. He loves his sworn brother, but he’s getting tired of seeing Mitsuya avoid you. And he is definitely getting tired of hearing his lovesick ramblings. Well, if the two of you haven’t gotten together by now, Draken supposes he could always go with Yuzuha’s plan to lock the both of you in a closet until you worked things out.)

[luveline]

hiii, can you do something for aaron comforting pregnant!reader? just lots of comfort and softness (ily<3)

You thought you liked being pregnant. Aaron says you're as beautiful as you've ever been, and there's something comforting about the bump forming. The knowledge that you have a new love so close, maybe. 

But there's something off about it too. Your body isn't solely yours, or that's the way it feels, and though you'd never wish for the baby to be away from you before it's time, you'd like a break. He's a heavy weight to carry, your little Hotchner. He makes your back hurt, your legs ache. Your hands shake before breakfast every day and the morning sickness gets old.

The hormones are intense, too. All in all, you're overwhelmed. It affects everything you do. 

A dropped cup becomes something else. 

“You okay?” Aaron asks. 

You've broken a glass before, you've done it twice in his kitchen alone, but this time it's the last straw. You bend down to clean it up, realise you can't really bend, and then that you can't do it without gloves anyhow. “What am I doing?” you say, your voice dripping with disdain. 

“What are you doing?” Aaron asks, quieter now. “I'll do it. Sit down.” 

He doesn't speak without love. In fact, you'd say that the very infrastructure of his voice is imbued with affection, like every sentence could end in a pet name. 

“I can do it.” You shake your head. “I can't do anything. I'm useless, I'm–” worthless, you want to say. Completely worthless, nothing to give, hardly functioning, and now you can barely clean up after yourself. 

You squeeze your hands together and take a few steps back. Aaron meets your eyes unflinching, impossible to look away from as he follows you, closing the gap. 

“You're not useless. You're less agile than usual for good reason.” 

“I'm useless,” you repeat, self-hatred (not hatred, something different, more pitying, more shameful) thick on the tongue. 

“Honey. You're not useless.” 

“I am.” The first tear wells and races down your cheek within the same second. Your lip begins trembling. “I can't do anything anymore.” 

“You think so?” he asks gently. 

“I can't do it,” you say. 

Your voice breaks. Aaron doesn't need much more instruction, gathering you into his arms for a hug, the bump of your stomach no match for his height. “It's okay,” he says, again so gently, “it's okay.”  

“It's not.” You cry and it aches. You cry like a little kid, wildly out of control of your life. 

“It is, honey, it is. I know… it's not only a glass. You've been rearing up to this for a while.” 

You cry harder, wrists crossed around his back and your face rammed hard into his neck. It must hurt. You're trying to hide from the ache of your panic but there isn't anywhere to go —you're pregnant and you want to be, but you're trapped, too. 

“Aw, I don't know what's wrong with me,” you choke out, spluttering into his collar. 

He doesn't complain. “Nothing–” 

“I know it's not easy–” 

“–is wrong with you. Exactly. It's not easy.” He's calm in the face of your bleeding heart. “Honey, this is one of the hardest things a person can do, and that alone means you're the opposite of useless right now. You're making a big change, a sacrifice, to bring someone new into the world.” 

He pulls your face back from his neck with a kind hand. “Your baby doesn't think you're useless. I can tell you that for sure.” 

“I wish I could take a break,” you admit, shamefaced.”I'm such a bad mom already.” 

He doesn't agree. It's in the line of his mouth, the stillness of his gaze. Aaron takes your hand from his back and pulls it slowly to your stomach, flattening your fingers over the very apex of its hill, his own warm and large covering it surely. “You're not a bad mom, not even close. I don't think so, the baby doesn't think so.” He smiles. “Jack certainly doesn't think so.” 

You take a deep breath. “Really?” 

“Jack couldn't have asked for a better step mom, honey. Wanting a break from the side effects doesn't mean you don't love him, does it?” 

Him as in the baby, the heartbeat, the little head and arms and legs, the tiny brain. Wanting a break from your pregnancy and its constant barrage of symptoms doesn't make you a bad mom. 

“You aren't useless,” Aaron says, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “You're my partner, and you're his mother, and if you can't do some of the things you'd usually do right now, that's okay, because I'm here to do them for you.” 

That makes you cry more. Aaron drops his face to yours and presses your noses together, shushing your sobs. You, much less composed, grasp at the swell of your stomach. “Sorry,” you say in a weak whisper, hot all over and not sure how to cope. “I'm sorry, baby.” 

“You don't need to say sorry to him. He's the one at fault, anyway.” 

A laugh slips past your lips before you can think about it. “Don't say that.” 

“No?” Aaron pulls away, taking the fat of your arm into his hand. “I suppose it could be my fault. But it was your idea.” 

“No it wasn't.” 

“No, it wasn't,” he says, his fingers sliding a slow path down to your elbow, “but you do want this, don't you?”

“Of course I do.” 

Your quick answer makes him smile. He wipes your wet cheeks dry with an infinite carefulness, thumb trailing down the apple of your cheek to catch a last little tear. “Let me sit you down, sweetheart. I bet you feel even more tired than you did to begin with.” 

Pregnancy isn't always (or really often) fun, nor is crying your eyes out into the unfailing arms of your husband (though that had it's redeeming factors, mainly the smell of him, and the way he held you like he knew exactly how to make it all better), but you feel better for it, rather than worse as he's suggesting. Still, you soak up Aaron's quiet doting, a hand pressed to your baby bump as he kisses the side of your head. 

[sorcerous-caress]

Heyyy!! Could I request the companions taking care of a new baby + a toddler while their partner recovers?

Taking care of the kids while you recover

[Fluff, marriage, raising kids, nb!reader]

[Astarion, Wyll, Gale]

I'm not feeling the best rn so I did just three, i hope you enjoy anon.

Astarion

Seeing that this is your second baby together, he feels less out of his element now. He is more confident in his ability to care for this little bundle of joy with pointy ears cradled in his arms.

He almost doesn't recognise his own self these days. When did his sharp edges grow so soft? When did he become so tender, and when did his eyes become so round and happy?

When you proposed to him that day in the underdark, when you presented him with a modest ring that made him go speechless. He has seen many more glamorous ones, much more expensive ones, but somehow, this simple band with the most precious gem completely took his breath away.

That's how he ended here on this cozy couch with a silver haired toddler running around enthusiastically. Astarion calls them over to gently wipe some crumbs from their face, looking at their innocent adoring eyes.

They had your eyes, he couldn't help but squeeze their adorable cheeks and give them a kiss on the forehead like any dotting father would.

Him, a doting parent? That idea would've made him choke with laughter some years ago.

The ring glimers on his finger as he holds the newborn baby closer to his chest, humming a soothing melody in elvish for his second child. The first stared at him from the side with a pout.

His child was so obvious with their emotions that Astarion couldn't help but chuckle, "Jealously isn't a good look darling, come here." With that, he had another kid cuddling up to him and demanding a lullaby too.

Astarion obliged, relieved that his presence seemed enough for his children at the moment while you were recovering. Part of him was anxious about what if they only wanted you? What if they weren't as attached to him as he thought?

He was never happier to be proven wrong in his life.

Wyll

The sun shines brightly through the thin white curtains in the kitchen. Wyll is mixing together a baby formula on the counter, measuring the right amount on the spoon as he scoops away the extra powder from the top.

Adding the powder into the baby bottle, he gently shakes the warm bottle. The sound of light footsteps approach him in a failed attempt of stealth as a toy wooden sword is pressed against the back of his legs.

"Surrender!" A high voice calls from behind him, his very own kid with determination in their eyes as they press the dull edge of the sword more against Wyll's pants.

"Oh noble hero, may I know what crime am i being accused of before I surrender?" Wyll plays along, a smile painting his lips.

"The crime of!!" His child starts with confidence, "of...." trailing into uncertainty as their grip on the sword falters.

Wyll is patient as he lets them have the time to gather their thought. cleaning and wiping the counter down.

"Of not giving me food!"

"Didn't you just eat your breakfast after stealing my breakfast?" Wyll scooped up his child up in his arm, holding him with one hand while carrying the bottle with the other. His kid kicked their feet in the air as they dropped the wooden sword.

"But dad!! That was hours ago, I'm hungry."

"I clearly recall it being minutes ago."

Moving to the living room where his youngest laid peacefully sleeping in their small rocking bed, Wyll let go of his hold just as he sat on the couch.

Climbing into his lap, the most adorable brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "I want pancakes please" stretching on the end of the word, his kid whined.

With a defeated smile, Wyll agreed to it. Knowing you'd scold him for spoiling the kids too much if you were here right now, still he was weak against them. Somehow, his own kids were more persuasive than any devil this warlock has ever encountered before.

Gale

"There you go, all dry and clean" he said as he started to put on the baby bear onesie back on the giggling infant in front of him, their small hands gripping on Gale's beard with surprising strength as he zipped them up.

Yet the discomfort barely mattered to the wizard, he happily let them play with his face as he admired how adorable they looked in the fluffy animal custom. Smiling and giving their belly a soft kiss to make them laugh even louder.

The loud crash from outside the room barely phased him either as he kept coddling the infant, calling them endearing names and cradling them in his arms. "Papa's here, no need to fret."

"MR.DEKARIOS!" Tara's screech followed shortly after, "your presence is required immediately!"

Still too busy entranced by how adorable his child was, Gale took slow steps out of the room, contouring harmless light tricks to impress his youngest.

The sight that met him was one that would've probably given his younger self a heart attack no doubt, the countless torn pages of books thrown around the floor, the spilled ink and the crumbled magical scrolls.

But as the years went by, he found himself mellowing out much more. Very few things phased him by now, especially with how ironic life tended to be. The fates must be snickering right now. to give him a kid with wild magic in their veins, brimming with sorcery from such a young age.

You usually kept them in line, Gale was too guilty of being an enbaler as you've put it. It's not his fault he thought his kid was the coolest person in all the realms.

"Books are for losers!" Ah, there they stood, his own flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos of papers and magic, a potted plant.

A talking potted plant.

"Did your magic surge again?" Gale could only feel amusement as he leaned down to pick up his child, making sure to hold it far away from his other child so they don't nibble on the leaves of their sibling.

It seemed like both his cat and his child prefered to continue their argument. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense before! Mr.Dekarios, would you please get your spawn in line." Tara, his beloved elegant tressym, was flying around him in an attempt to smack the plant with her soft paws.

With a giggling wobbling infant on his right arm and a potted plant polymorphed kid on his left, Gale effortlessly casted the necessary incantations to reverse the polymorph while avoiding Tara's claws.

A poof of sparkling light filled the room as a full toddler replaced the potted plant, Tara blinded by the light, crashed into them and they all stumbled down onto stacks of torn papers.

The three of them buried under the pile, only the fluffy bear onsie wearing emerged unharmed on top.

[thebearer]

hi e! back again with more carmy shit because i love the way you did my little blurb justice 🥰. i literally just envisioned sydney minding her own business and just recklessly placing carmy in the hot seat cause she knew his ass was gon get it 😂. i’m all in for more dom!carmy so i’d love to keep the idea going that his s/o works for/with/alongside him at the bear with a touch of her giving him her two cents? a little bit of sass to just remind who he’s dealing with 😩. maybe this time around he slipped up on something major (a birthday, anniversary, or something that overall was important to the reader and he put it off because in his mind the bear comes first). she’s been slowly driving him crazy with that silent treatment she’s been doing for the last few days and her less than a few syllabled words when he doesn’t remind her how irked he made her 😂; she’s not mad anymore just disappointed. and anyway basically in a prep for preordered to go’s on lunch rush he’s reading back orders to her and she completely writes him off. i can see him being like exactly how he when he’s not getting when he needs from his staff during a frenzy and flipping tf out. like you know when he repeats himself a second time as if you didn’t hear him the first he means it 😂. tysm in advance! please feel free to do whatever you’d like. i’m writing this at 6 in the morning so many ideas are coming into the fold. i hope you have a great day - 🥣.

ok i did sorta a different-ish take. same idea but i don't write the reader as a chef bc quite honestly i can't relate lmao i'm a horrendous cook lol. but silent treatment yes!! reader works at the bear but not a chef.

"Does anyone know where the extra napkins are? Mindy needs to be settin' tables." Carmen huffed, slamming the empty crate back in the back stock.

"That would be your missus' domain." Richie snickers, elbowing Fak lightly. "Guess you better go ask her, Cousin."

"Yeah? Fuck off. Thought it was your fuckin' job." Carmen grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Me? Fuck no, Cousin. You know who's job it is, c'mon." Richie grinned. "It's your wife, Carm. What? Scared to talk to your wife?"

Carmen sneered, huffing in annoyance, but the truth was... yes, he was a little scared. Especially with how furious you were at him. Carmen was a chronic over worker, barely taking time for himself. It was a constant fight between the two of you, one he'd gotten better at, but still struggled finding that balance. Which normally, you'd be more forgiving about.

Except it was your anniversary.

Carmen left you waiting at home, dressed up with a new lingerie set that he painfully didn't get to enjoy. By the time he got off, taking his time to clean the kitchen, prep for tomorrow's crowd, he looked at his phone and saw your texts and calls, his heart dropping.

You'd been giving him the cold shoulder since then, furious and hurt- or so he assumed, you wouldn't say anything.

Richie found the entire thing hilarious when Carmen told him. "You forgot your fuckin' anniversary? You jagoff, holy shit."

Carmen found it less than amusing. The tension in the restaurant was thick because of the two of you. Everyone teetering around you, but especially Carmen, he was more on edge now.

Pushing the door open to the office, Carmen ducked his head in, seeing you at his desk- your desk, technically, you used it more. "Hey, honey," Carmen's voice was soft, a sweet hum that had your spine straightening. He flinched lightly, stepping towards you. "D'you know where the extra napkins are?"

You didn't reply, simply typing on your laptop, editing a video for the social media page about the upcoming summer specials.

Carmen blinked, barking out your name in a much harsher than he meant to, but it seemed to work. Kinda. Your head whipped around, eyes in a burning glare when they met his, but your lips were still pressed together.

Carmen through his hands out in exasperation. "Are you bein' fuckin' serious with me?"

Richie made his way towards the table where Tina was doing prep, craning his neck to watch. Your lips twisted, glaring harshly at Carmen. Carmen huffed, a hand running over his forehead. "What do you want from me, huh? What? You're just never gonna speak to me again? I forgot, ok? I didn't mean to, I just fuckin' forgot! I was at work!"

You glared at him, feeling Richie's amused gaze from over Carmen's shoulder, the rest of the staff pretending to be busy to hear. "Shut the door." You snapped.

Carmen flinched, shocked. "What-"

"Shut the fuckin' door, now." You snapped, slamming your laptop, turning to face him. Carmen pressed the door shut, ignoring Richie's whines of "c'mon, Cousin, it was just gettin' good!".

The two of you stared, neither being the first to talk, not wanting to break. You huffed, rolling your eyes in annoyance. "You wanted to talk, talk, Carmen. I've got shit to do."

"Hey," Carmen's eyes flashed at you, his tone hard with an edge of warning. "You better watch your-"

"-No, you better watch your mouth with me. Watch what you say to me, Berzatto." You snapped, pointing a finger at him. "This isn't a fuckin' game, alright? I'm mad at you. Actually fuckin' mad at you."

Carmen's stomach turned, swallowing the guilt rising with the bile in his throat. "I... I'm sorry-"

"-Sorry isn't going to work this time, Carmen. It's always sorry. Always I didn't fuckin' mean to, I got busy." You snapped, arms wrapping over your torso. "You always do this, but our anniversary? You forgot our anniversary?"

"No, I didn't forget." Carmen ran a hand down his face. "I got you flowers and-and the bracelet-"

"-And that was very nice, Carmen, but you weren't there." You snapped, the finality in his tone making his rebuttal dissolve in his mouth. The hurt in your eyes, rounding and pitiful, soft and pleading with him. You were angry, but you were hurt, too.

His shoulders deflated, breath leaving his lungs. "You're right," Carmen nodded slowly. "No, you're-you're right, and-and-and I'm... Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby." Carmen said sincerely, eyes shining with sincerity. "I... I got caught up and I-I shouldn't have even been working that day, I just..."

"I know." You muttered, looking down at the desk, a framed picture of the two of you in Copenhagen at your wedding ceremony. Carmen in his suit, you in your dress, happy and smiling with the breathtaking scenery behind you.

Carmen could feel the guilt growing in his chest, palms sweating and heart racing, the panic to fix it- to do something. "How much longer do you have?" Carmen asked, nodding towards your laptop.

"Just a few more things to edit." You looked at your paused work. "Why?"

"Let me... Let me make it right." Carmen sighed, shaking hands fumbling towards his apron.

"Carmen, you can't leave-"

"-Yeah, yeah, I can." Carmen nodded, pulling the door out and calling for Sydney. "Can you cover tonight, Chef?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I can." Sydney nodded.

"I got it too, Cousin-" Carmen shut the door before he could hear Richie's full comment, sure something smart ass would be included.

"Let's go out." Carmen looked at you. "A make up. Please?"

You folded your arms, pouting lightly. "'m not dressed for going out."

"What're you talkin' about? You look beautiful, c'mon." Carmen shook his head lightly at you, shoving his clothes into his bag, pulling out his spare.

You tried not to drool at the sight of his chest. You'd missed him, you really had. It was a shame the lingerie went to waste.

Carmen pulled you out of the restaurant, hand on your waist, holding you close to his side. It wasn't the fancy reservations you'd planned, no Michelin star restaurants with expensive wine. No, instead, he took you to some a rooftop restaurant, one with the vibey aesthetic you always cooed at on Instagram. Sitting and sharing pretzels and greasy food, snuggled into Carmen's side while he ordered dessert. Giggling when he fed you the brownie sundae, tilting your head back with his fingers cradling your jaw lightly. It was simple, romantic, and fun. Made your heart swell, clinging to him the whole way home.

And when you got home? Carmen was in heaven. Letting you show him what he missed a few days earlier.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.

Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.

The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.

Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.

“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.

She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.

Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.

“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”

“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”

“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”

“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.

“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.

Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.

“You alright?” he asks.

It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”

Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.

“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.

The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.

When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.

Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.

As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.

Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?

Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.

Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?

With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.

“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.

You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.

Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”

“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”

“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.

“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”

“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.

“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”

You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.

“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.

“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.

Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.

After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.

“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.

“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”

“I think that’s the other way around.”

“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”

Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.

Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?

Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.

Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”

You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.

“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.

“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”

“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.

“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.

“Be careful, Tim.”

“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”

“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”

Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.

Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.

“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”

“He’s not,” you agree.

Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.

“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.

“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”

“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.

Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.

Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.

He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.

“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.

Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.

“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.

His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.

“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.

Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”

“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”

“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”

You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.

Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.

As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.

[lucy90712]

HEYYYYY CAN I PLS PLS PLS request the same football guys on ur period headcanon with a clumsy gf that js always falls and hits things and very careless with their body and stuff

Gavi: 

- To begin with it scared Pablo how clumsy you were he always notices a few new bruises on you every time he sees you and he just worries that you will seriously hurt yourself one day and he doesn't want to see that as he doesn't like to see you in pain 

- As time goes on he gets used to it and he knows that your clumsiness is just part of you and it's something he learns to love especially the little noises you make as you trip up or accidentally knock something over 

- You are always apologising when you accidentally knock over something or walk into something in Pablo's house and every time he tells you that there's no need for you to apologise but he will never be able to change that habit as everyone else in your life expects apologise for you just being the way you are 

- Pablo develops a sixth sense almost about when you are going to hurt yourself whenever you go anywhere he can just tell if you will trip over something so he tries his best to stop it happening but he can't always intervene in time but he's always there to help you up or make you feel less embarrassed 

- Sometimes Pablo protects you without realising he's doing it if you are both in the kitchen and you are bent down getting something from a cupboard Pablo will put his hand above your head so when you come back up your head hits his hand instead of the counter 

Pedri: 

- Pedri gets used to your clumsiness pretty quickly he's met plenty of people who are a bit clumsy although you are worse than all of them combined at times but that doesn't put him off as he just loves you for you 

- He likes to make jokes about your clumsiness at times but whenever he's injured you always come right back at him and that usually stops his teasing as he knows your not wrong both of you can be a bad as each other when it comes to injuries 

- Seeing as you are both quite often hurt in some way you do a lot of taking care of each other you always help Pedri with his recovery and give him massages to help his muscles and he's always cleaning your cuts or putting cream on your bruises to help them heal faster 

- He doesn't like to see you hurt especially if something hurts you a bit more than normal and causes a few tears that really upsets him as he doesn't like to see you in so much pain he always wishes he could completely take away all the pain you feel but he can't so instead he just comforts you when your hurt 

- As much as he hates seeing you in pain he weirdly loves your clumsiness it makes you unique and he loves getting to the end of the day and hearing about all of the silly things you've done throughout the day like walking into your desk that you sit at every day it always brightens his day the way you can laugh at the stupid things you do 

Jude: 

- When you first start dating and seeing more of each other Jude notices that you always come round with new bruises and straight away he worries that someone is hurting you when you go home but he doesn't mention it to begin with as he doesn't want to trigger you 

- One day when you turn up with a burn on your hand from your hair straightener he can't hold back his worries any longer and he sits you down and asks you seriously if you are ok or if anyone is hurting you that's when you explain that you are just clumsy and you tell him where all of your bruises and other injures are from which calms him down 

- Once he knows that you are ok and that no one is hurting you he feels a lot better but he's still worried that you are able to do all of this to yourself but you reassure him that you are fine and it's something you've lived with your whole life which again makes him feel a bit less worried as he knows that you are used to it all

- From that day onwards he decided that he wants to do everything that he can to protect you so that you don't end up with as many bruises because he hates to see your legs and arms covered in them 

- When he's with you he always makes sure that you don't walk into things or trip on things it's not easy as somehow you always find a way to walk into doorframes or trip on seemingly nothing but he does his best to keep you safe but if he can't he will always put bandages on your injures so that you don't make them worse 

Joao: 

- Joao can be clumsy at times and some days he's worse than others but you are like 10x worse than he is pretty much constantly most of the time you can't go the whole day without doing something anyone else would consider clumsy but you just consider it normal life 

- When you moved in with Joao he was already well aware of your clumsiness so he pretty much baby proof the house so he makes sure there isn't rugs anywhere you would walk everyday and any furniture with sharp corners have protection on them so you can't hurt yourself if you walk into them 

- To minimise the chance of serious injury Joao won't let you do anything that involves getting on a ladder without him there and even anything that involves using a sharp knife he doesn't like you to do alone but you don't mind as it means you get to do those things together which makes them more fun 

- When you have people over you try and be extra careful as you don't want to embarrass yourself but one day Joao has some people over and you accidentally trip while carrying groceries which makes his friends laugh but he gets straight up to check on you and make sure you are ok and aren't embarrassed because he truly cares about you 

- He then has to explain that you are just clumsy but that he loves that about you and his friends quickly move on from laughing especially when he tells them that you will always try harder not to seem so clumsy around other people 

Hector: 

- Hector is quick to notice that you are always tripping over things and sometimes nothing other than your own two feet when you go to his your trip on the rug every time and when you go out places any uneven part of the pavement will get you 

- Once he notices the pattern he moves the rug in his place because he doesn't want you to trip every time you come and see him especially because he sees the way you blush every time and he knows you get embarrassed and he cares a lot more about you than a rug which is just there for decoration 

- Whenever you go anywhere together he makes sure that he is always holding your hand so he can either steer you round uneven parts in the pavement or hold you up if you do trip so that you don't fall 

- You often worry that Hector won't want to be seen with you especially as he becomes more well known as you think he won't want to be associated with someone who can't stand on their own two feet properly as his teammates will make fun of him or fans will make fun him for being with you 

- Hector doesn't care at all about being seen with you he is more than happy to show you off because he loves you even if people judge him for it that won't change his feelings and he definitely won't stand for people making fun of you so he will block people on social media who make fun of you 

Marc:

- There are times that Marc doesn't know how you haven't broken a bone before he's always expecting you to be at the hospital on your nighttime FaceTime calls on the days you don't see each other but it hasn't happened yet in the years he's known you 

- He likes to joke with you and ask what new injuries you have every time he talks to you but as much as he jokes around he really does care about you so if you were to ever really hurt yourself he would be so upset or even if you just get sick of being clumsy he is always there to comfort you 

- When he's with you he does everything he can to stop you getting hurt as he never likes seeing you hurt he becomes really protective when it comes to you if he could fight the floor after it trips you up he would but he can't so instead he just tries his best to make sure you are ok 

- On the off chance he can't intervene before you hurt yourself he will baby you and take care of you for the rest of the day you won't have to lift a finger so there's no chance that you can't do anymore damage to your body 

- Even if he's not with you if you tell him that you accidentally cut yourself even if it doesn't hurt he will invite himself over to take care of you as he can't have his girlfriend hurting without him being there he has to be there to cuddle you and make you feel better 

[lyneyluv]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ．．． 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒆！

— diluc & childe (separate).

— fluff, suggestive. archon quest spoilers. implied relationship. alcohol consumption (childe). ajax's is extensively longer ..... sry :P

the two of you sit before the heart of a warm fire, speakers above playing sweet, smooth jazz melodies that flood your senses. whatever language the woman sings her cacophony of accidentals in, it seems to make the fire envelop you completely, leaning further into the man seated next to you.

diluc slowly rises from his spot next to you, lifting his arm from where it hung around your shoulder. standing before you, his hand traces down your arm and finds itself in the palm of your own as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“come on,” he says in a hushed voice, nothing but warmth behind his gaze, “dance with me.”

you smile shyly under his frame and take his offer, prying yourself from the comfort of the plush couch to face your lover.

“‘luc, you know i have two left feet,” you huff out, almost too willingly giving in to his request.

he hums in response, his eyes lulling shut as his free hand finds your other and begins swaying along with the tempo surrounding you. he rests his head atop your own as you reel in the feeling of his breath against your scalp. you sway as the music continues with its piano and saxophone riffs, one song ending and another starting. you feel him smile against your hair before he removes himself from above you, taking your waist with his hand as he spins you in circles.

it’s intoxicating. you catch glimpses of his form when it comes into your view as you twirl around and around, the world seemingly stilling as you return to your place before him. your eyes rake over everything and all that he is: his broad shoulders, free from his heavy day coat, his chest adorning a simple white button-down rolled up at the sleeves, his hair cascading down his collarbones as it takes its best efforts to break free from the tie he haphazardly put it up with. you meet his vermillion eyes, a breath catching in your throat as you admire the stars that twinkle in his gaze.

suddenly, the track playing changes, switching to a more lively and upbeat song that lights up the room. a ghost of a laugh is lost on diluc’s tongue as you hop to turn the music up, the melodies getting impossibly louder as you pivot on your heels to sashay towards him, taking his hand and circling around him. the hit hats dance in your eyes as bursts of music play in the air around you. the essence of the song seeps into every pore on your skin as diluc’s scarred hands cup your jaw, his face coming so close your noses graze against one another. he drinks in the sight of you—the feeling of you—and sighs.

“you’re beautiful,” his eyes bore into yours as your arms snake around his torso, “i love you.”

．．．

childe never really plays music on his own, opting to listen only whenever you hit play. its not that he doesn't like it, he just can't seem to focus whenever there's something playing in the background. tonight was no different: the two of you were cleaning up the kitchen after a nice dinner when you decided it was too quiet, playing some easy listening jazz: specifically the kind you'd hear in a low-lit restaurant that serves food with way less sustenance on the plate than what you're paying for.

your hips sway as you spray and wipe the counters, gently humming along with a tune you've familiarized yourself with. your twirl around the wood floor, passing ajax every now and then as he catches you in the corner of his eye. the sultry sounds of the melodies passing through his senses compliments the half-empty bottle wine sitting on the countertop.

you pass him again but this time are stopped by his arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he rocks back and forth with you. "what's got you so happy?" he questions as he hooks his chin around your shoulder, feathering light kisses down your neck, "was my cooking that good?" he teases. each peck leaves a searing hot train in their wake as a shiver runs through your spine.

you inhale, placing your hand in his hair as you play with the ginger tresses. "oh, absolutely," you exaggerate as you turn your head to kiss the corner of his mouth, "i have no idea what i'd do if i didn't have a beautiful boyfriend to cook for me so generously like you do."

you smile lovingly into his eyes as he turns your frame to face him, his hands staying on your body as they travel up and down your waist. "mm, right," he hums through a slight smirk and lays his forehead against yours.

looking up into and nearly getting lost in his endless ocean of a gaze, you place a kiss upon his lips and back away from him. his face instinctively chased your own before you spoke, "dance with me."

before he can even think of an answer, he follows you into the living room and takes your hand in his. looking up at you, he bows regally with and arm behind his back as he places a saccharine kiss upon your fingers—the ones he silently promises to soon decorate with a ring. his eyes shine as they catch the light radiating from the kitchen, crystal blue irises peering at you through his long lashes. he's stunning, you think, any thoughts you had running through your head haulting to a stop. dazzled and frozen in place by the prince of a man before you, you step into his arms.

it's nothing special; not a waltz nor tango, just the two of you swaying together in the dim light of your home. your head lays against his shoulder, drinking in as much of him as you humanly can within the constraints of staying awake. the wine in your system warms you from within and leaves a whirring buzz in your mind as you hold onto your grip of reality, ajax's hands roaming the expanse of your torso and the rhythm you fall into doing no good in helping your poor attempt of sanity.

you feel one of his hands coming up, lifting your chin to meet his eyes as you fall in love over and over again in the infinite depths of his gaze. his hand spans across your cheek as his thumb caresses it gently, eventually traveling down to press against your lips. his eyes flit between your features, from your eyes to the tip of your nose and down to your plush lips he traces with his finger. he reels in the way you feel within his grasp as the music playing becomes a soundtrack for the film of his love that plays before him, losing himself in his adoration as he finally leans in to indulge in you.

the kiss is searing hot as it mixes with the interchanging major and minor chords the piano plays surrounding you both. the singing continues above the saxophones and drums, yet all you can hear is the sweet melody of your shared embrace: birds chirping in jueyun karst, breeze whistling through the tall grass in windrise, the silence of the snow falling in snezhnaya, the glittering of the glowing grass in chinju forest—you hear it all through your shared embrace. the pace picks up as small gasps are heard over the music, ajax's hands finding their way underneath your shirt as they move across the expanse of your body leaving a lingering warmth in their path. your lips dance against one another in a sparkling duet as you feel yourself getting ever hotter from the invasion of your senses.

"jazz isn't so bad, hmm?" he chimes, smirking as he dips back into your lips.

©𝑙𝑦𝑛𝑒𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑣 ’24

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 2

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter summary: Ghost's neighbor works hard to get in his good graces: her dog, not so much. Word Count: 1.2k

Riley Thomas woke up at 5 in the morning with a skull-splitting headache and a sore neck, as she had fallen asleep awkwardly on her armchair the previous evening. It was her day off, but her body was now so accustomed to the work routine she often had trouble allowing herself to sleep in.

In order to get up, she (sorrowfully) had to move a large cat that lay peacefully on her legs, stretching her aching muscles and cracking her joints before starting her morning routine, which consisted of thoroughly cleaning litter boxes and cages, feeding the animals and making sure they kept as quiet as possible. The rest of the apartment was a complete mess (as well as her looks), but at least the pets were well taken care of. The burnt cookies laid abandoned on her small kitchen table, and she grabbed one off the tray before biting into it and trying not to grimace as she tasted it.

“Fuck that’s awful.”

She made a mental note to deep clean the flat as soon as possible but she knew her exhaustion would make her postpone it as much as possible. Riley had a mission much more important than that: to get into her neighbor’s good graces. The thought of confronting the large, intimidating man once again made her stomach lurch and her body tremble with anxiety, but if she didn’t try there was a good chance she – as well as her rescues - would be homeless in less than a few weeks. So, once her home affairs were sorted, she quickly caught up with her skincare routine, replaced her sweatpants with simple jeans and her tank top for a warm sweater, and leashed an excited young German shepherd she was currently housing to head out to the nearest grocery store.

The early morning daylight barely lit up the dim hallway as she fiddled with her keys and gently tried to push the cat’s head inside the apartment with her foot.

“I’ll be back soon Milo” she whispered softly to the stray cat, trying to lock the door as she fought against the dog’s leash. “Alright, alright…we’re going. Calm down Rex.”

The dog’s tail wagged furiously as he pulled on the leash, sniffing his way across the floor. He barked loudly once he caught the scent of a spot that interested him, and she quickly shushed him, terrified he’d bother the neighbours and get her into more trouble. But just as she was about to pull him towards the staircase, her eyes widened in horror as she watched the young dog squat down quickly on a rug. Her next-door neighbor’s rug. The large, intimidating, broody man. The man she was supposed to impress.

“No no no, please don’t!” she frantically tried to pull on the leash, accessing some sort of damage control if he at least did it in the middle of the hallway instead of right in front of the door, but Rex seemed hellbound on dropping it right there.

“Fuck!” she quickly dropped to her knees, pulling out her dog poo bag and fisting it as fast as humanly possible. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest as she heard the door open right in front of her. Riley felt her mouth dry and her stomach drop. Even Rex stood still, sitting obediently as if he hadn’t just ruined her chances of thriving in that place. She looked up with doe eyes, a deer caught in the headlights as the man in the black facemask stared down blankly at her figure.

***

“Did your dog just take a dump on my doorstep?” Simon asked gruffly, dark eyes directed at the young woman’s, as her hand was quite literally deep in shit.

“I-I…” her mouth hung open as she tried to find a hundred different excuses at the same time. “I’m so sorry…” Was the best she could come up with.

Simon cocked his head to the right and stared at her in silence as if trying to make her feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible. She looked so vulnerable and anxious; it was almost endearing.

She squirmed beneath his intense gaze as she scraped the steaming hot turd as efficiently as possible – to no effect, as it only ingrained itself deeper within the rug’s fibers. “I was just about to take him for a walk…He’s young and still learning and-”

“And?” he teased, interrupting her.

“And I promise I’ll wash your rug! Fuck, I’ll get you a new one if it makes this better!” She looked like she could cry, and Simon was enjoying it.

Just as she was awkwardly getting up, bag full of shit in hand, they heard angry, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Uh-oh… Here comes trouble.” Simon mocked, extremely interested in the outcome of the next few minutes, leaning against his doorframe, and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, it’s alright…I’m sure Mrs. Parsons will warm up to me…eventually…” the young woman smiled nervously.

The old woman made way through the corridor with her usual scowl and her robe tightly wrapped around her scrawny form, newspaper in hand. She gave Simon’s next-door neighbor and her dog a disgusted look, before indignantly ignoring them.

“Good morning Mrs-”

“Fuck off.” Mrs. Parsons cut her off before she had even finished the sentence, and Simon stifled a chuckle.

“Lovely…” she muttered under her breath, that defeated look back on her face. Her puffy eyes looked worse than in their previous encounter and she forced a smile as if trying to lighten up the mood. “I’m about to get some groceries. I’ll get you that new rug on the way back.”

“Look…” Simon started with a deep sigh, taking a long look behind him at his uninhabited-looking apartment before looking at his wristwatch. “I’m actually in need of some groceries myself. If you help me out, I’ll slide all this under the rug.”

She blinked once in shock, as if trying to comprehend if he was being serious or not. His deadpan expression didn’t help.

“It’s a joke kiddo, lighten’up yeah?” he rolled his eyes at her, before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Oh…haha” She allowed herself to giggle nervously and rolled back her shoulders, trying to shake the discomfort and relax under his gaze. “Sure, I could do that. Just make me a list of what you need.”

“That’s where it gets complicated. I need everything. I got back from deployment yesterday an’ have nothing to live on.” Simon explained as he passed the young woman 200 pounds in cash. Her eyes went wide as she held the money in her free hand, the stinky bag still occupying the other.

“I don’t know what you like…And you don’t even know me. What if I stole all your money?” she asked and he faked an intimidating glare.

“Well kid, I know where you live.”

“That’s-”

He shut the door on her face and the dog whined softly as if disappointed by the man’s sudden absence.

The young woman sighed deeply.

“You and me both buddy.”

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying it :) they're about to get closer real soon...

[glacierclear]

Can I... can I ask for some househusband Leon hcs?

alright. okay. we're gonna work with a few assumptions for these headcanons.

this all comes from the hypothetical of leon being fully retired from his line of work. he still has the same backstory, skillset, traumas, everything, it's just...now he's your loyal house husband!

cooking? this all depends on where he's at in life. mid-30s and onward? he's a chef. i don't believe he'd be terribly gourmet about it. you aren't coming home to a roasted duck served with a reduced wine glaze and a perfectly made risotto...but god. he can make some damn fine spaghetti. he'd likely shoot for simple dishes, with perhaps an added flair or two. homemade burgers. lots of steak dinners. he'd prefer anything that can be prepared with minimal mess. recipes that are made with one pot or one pan...a big hit for him. he is not a pretentious eater, and that would reflect in his cooking.

now, if we're talking early to late-20s leon? erm. well. let's just say he's learning. his transition from zombie apocalypse policeman to military meat shield didn't do much for his cooking skills. and a diet of MREs and scrounged up viper parts did even less. if post-re4 leon is your house husband you're gonna be eating a lot of questionable meals. he's not completely oblivious. he won't try and feed you absolute slop, but his abilities don't much exceed kraft mac and scrambled eggs. still! he's a domestic man now. plenty of free time to try out all sorts of new things in the kitchen! be on standby with a fire extinguisher when he decides 3am is a great time to make fried chicken from scratch!

leon's independent food preferences likely revolve around utility. protein. nutrition. careful rations. compact energy a growing boy needs to kill bioweapons. he doesn't strike me as having a particularly strong sweet tooth, but he also won't say no to a bit of dessert! but he's adaptable, of course. one must be in his line of work. your tastes and favored dishes will influence his palate a lot. he'll naturally associate flavors with you and will, over time, come to adopt a lot of your dietary choices.

cleaning? leon will do his best. you can count on him to not accidentally mix mustard gas in your bathroom, but his knack for cleanliness would be...odd. i choose to believe leon has a strict standard for bodily hygiene. his extended exposure to all manner of glop and viscera means he strives to smell nice and stay on top of dirt the best he can when he is able to...on his body. a house is different. he's never had to see it as a home, merely an empty room where he sleeps and eats. so maintaining it as a tidy space might not come naturally, and it's not as if he had a proper upbringing to teach him proper housekeeping techniques (cough, cough, he's an orphan).

man's a fast learner though. expect a lot of trial and error. him accidentally using glass cleaner on the stove. or not understanding the exact purpose of fabric softener. why do we need make our bed if we're just gonna sleep in it and mess it up again? he likely has a lot of bad habits from living on his own, but gentle guidance and persistent advice will go a long way.

of course, leon needs his private time. space for him to isolate and be alone...but, you're at work all day. the loneliness is easily accessible, and now that he has all the time and freedom to be with you...it's grating. his favorite sound is the noise your key makes when it unlocks the front door. he's careful, not incredibly overbearing, but you don't make it more than a few steps into your home before his head is poking around the corner. "how was your day? you look tired. here, let me take your coat off-" leon is a listener. he doesn't talk about himself much, if at all, so he'd prefer to just hear you ramble on about whatever you need to or want to. neck rubs. gentle squeezes on your arm. light kisses on your brow. he doesn't smother. he doesn't drown you in the touch he's so starved of. but you can tell, he misses you a lot.

the real issues will probably stem from the quiet. the absolute lack of danger. take a person out of their traumatic environment and things start crumbling real fast before they can start to heal. he's hyper-aware. paranoid. has all this pent up energy and an instinct to fight. and he has to redirect it all somewhere, right? it'd come out in bizarre ways. diy projects. you come home from work and he built you a fucking chair. you don't even need a chair, but now you have one. lots of yard work. he renovated your patio and set up a birdhouse (also handmade). you didn't really want him to rearrange your living room but he did it anyways.

and it's hard for him to relax. for him to feel truly safe. he'd insist on installing locks on all the doors. bulletproof windows. guns hidden and stashed in corners of the house, just in case. any tech that could impede on his privacy (ie, amazon echos, doorbell cameras, etc) are out of the question. he'd run you through drills and hypothetical scenarios. make sure you know what to do in any situation. he's vigilant, and honestly, you've never felt safer, but it wears him down and you aren't sure if it's truly good for him.

[xxsabitoxx]

Twenty One.

Kyojuro x gn reader

A/N: Today is my 21st birthday, since Kyojuro’s is only three days after mine, I figured I’d write this </3

Word count: 1.2k

You’re humming softly, hanging the laundry on the line so it will dry as the sun rises. It’s peaceful, dew covering the grass as a symphony of frogs can be heard through the trees by the pond. Birds chirp softly as they wake, accompanying you in your solitude. Today is a special one, Kyojuro is turning twenty. You smile at the thought, you had some activities planned for the day to celebrate his completed teenage years and welcome him into early adulthood. You’d make breakfast together, spend the morning quietly just as he liked.

Then, in the afternoon you’d go on a walk to the pond less than a mile from your estate and have a small picnic. Finally, in the evening, you’d be meeting up with your fellow Hashira to really celebrate him. Kyojuro wasn’t aware of any of this, which made it even more special to you. It was hard to get anything by him, never mind surprise him. You clipped the last piece of laundry, yelping as warm arms wrapped around your midsection. “Kyojuro! You scared me!” You’re laughing now, feet leaving the ground as he twirls you. “Sorry, my love.” He’s laughing too.

“It’s alright, it doesn’t even matter.” He’s setting you down, allowing you to turn and face him. “What matters is this…” you're pushing upwards, kissing his lips tenderly before pulling away. “Happy birthday, my shining star.” You smile harder as his face blooms red, eyes diverting from yours with a wobbly smile. “What’s that look for?” You teased softly, hands cupping his warm cheeks. “I didn’t think anyone would remember.” He confesses softly, a look of hurt dawning on your face. “Didn’t think anyone would remember? It’s May 10th, the most important day.”

He’s turning redder, eyes shutting as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry.” It’s soft and meek, you have to wonder how many birthdays passed him by where nobody remembered. “Nothing to be sorry for, it’s your birthday so stop apologizing.” A real smile creeps up his face, eyes opening slowly to look down at you. “Thank you.” You kiss him again, hoping it gets your feelings across better than any words you could utter. “I have a whole day planned for you, Kyo. So why don’t we start with breakfast?” His smile was blinding . “We’ll make it together?” He was letting you go, taking your hand in his to pull you back towards the house.

“Of course! We’ll make whatever you want.”

The kitchen was a mess by the time you were done, flour covering your cheeks while strawberry jam covered his. You were laughing, sitting on the porch because the sun had yet to dry the dew off the grass, eating the breakfast you had made together. “This is why we don’t make breakfast together.” He’s laughing as he eats, watching you carefully as you try the food. “No, this is why you don’t make breakfast.” It’s lighthearted, funny even, and it means the world to him for some reason. He loves how unserious you can be, a beautiful change of pace from the life he knew after his mother passed. He could laugh with you, speak his mind and not worry.

“Touché.” His face was beginning to hurt from the smile that wouldn’t leave. You made his heart feel so impossibly full, as if it would burst at any moment. “So, I was thinking we could clean up, us and the kitchen I mean. And then we can pack a basket and head down to the pond. Maybe go see Senjuro too, or even invite him on the picnic?” You loved the way his eyes seemed to sparkle. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll send a crow to him in a little bit. I’m sure he’s still sleeping.” If Kyojuro could, he’d have already moved Senjuro in with the two of you by now. The boy didn’t want to leave their father alone, even if he deserved it. Kyojuro respected the decision of course. Despite everything, he still loved his father.

“You know, I was thinking of ways to make this day special for you. Especially since you’ve been granted some time off by Master. I’ve been struggling, but I hope the things I have planned for you are worthwhile.” You were pretty sure he’d love it, though you still harboured doubt. “You could never disappoint me. This is already more than enough.” Which was the honest truth. A simple happy birthday from you would have been enough to make his heart full. The fact that you were going the extra mile was enough to solidify his decision… he’d ask you to marry him. Perhaps even at the picnic today, with his little brother present.

He’d been holding on to the ring for a while now anyways.

The ring on your finger sparkles in the early morning sun. A whole year has passed, once again May 10th has arrived. Kyojuro turns twenty one today. Similarly, it marks one year since he asked you to marry him. You began clipping the fresh laundry, humming softly as you worked. Unlike last year, Kyojuro wasn’t home. He’d been sent on a mission, apparently many people had gone missing while riding a particular train. Knowing Kyojuro, if all went well, he’d be home by this afternoon to celebrate this special day.

“I wonder if he’ll want to go on a picnic again…” you hadn’t planned this day out like you did last year. The surprise party with the other pillars had turned into an engagement party as well. You smiled thinking back on that night, you wanted to go back so bad. You’d never seen Kyojuro smile that much, eyes sparkling in wonder like a small child trying candy for the first time. But, since he was on a mission, you figured taking the day to relax and spend time with one another was for the best. You could always go out with friends some time later in the week.

You’re soaking in the quiet morning, surprised you don’t hear birds chirping or the frogs croaking down by the pond. Rather, it seems everything has gone still, only a slight breeze rustling the leaves of the trees around you. The morning dew wasn’t as prominent as it had been last year, though you didn’t mind your feet being dry. Humming still, you picked up your half empty basket and made your way around to the other side of the drying line. The gentle flapping of a crow had you stopping in your tracks. “Oh, he must be on his way back…” you smiled at the thought.

You watched the crow land on top of the drying line’s pole, waiting for Kyojuro’s message. But, the words the crow uttered had your laundry basket slipping from your grasp. The basket tipped as it hit the ground, damp laundry spilling into the grass as you fell to your knees. Violent sobs shook you to your very core, lungs threatening to collapse as all oxygen was pulled from you. The morning that had been so unusually silent was now filled with your blood curdling screams, tears spilling down your cheeks in rivets. Kyojuro had left the world the same day he had entered it.

Never quite making it to twenty one.

[tealfloyd]

LOOKING GREAT IN A DAY OF HAVOC

“If MC’s going to die, at least she would do it with style~”

SUMMARY: After a stressing week of homework, MC has to spend her free day with every dorm; to top it off, she drinks Grim’s unknown potion (Everyone x Fem!Reader).

WARNINGS: Death mentions but as a joke (?) There’s not really anything triggering, I think.

CONTENT: MC changes her dress everytime she enters a dorm. Wedding mentions in Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia and Diasomnia. Every outfit is inspired on the villain except Scarabia. WORDS: 6K+

A/N: I’m glad some of you actually liked this concept, I’m not really good describing dresses and anything regarding clothes if I’m being honest, but I tried my best.

Now onto the fic~

It's six in the morning and you already feel tired, groggily standing up to overcome the busy day you have ahead.

Last week you had to do a lot, and when I say a lot is a lot, of homework; so much that you had barely seen yourself in the mirror (Vil gasped at that because your hair was starting to look like a bird’s nest).

Because of that, the time you usually spent with your friends decreased greatly, the only interaction that you had with them being a quick greeting; and sometimes your overworked mind didn't process the 'hi, MC' they were pronouncing.

When you had free time to spend with them (mostly half an hour or less), they asked you if you wanted to participate in some of their activities. Absentmindedly, you agreed to it, scribbling down on your paper without actually knowing what you were saying yes to, only saying the day you would be free.

That day has come, and it’s stuffed to the brim with different events featuring every dorm.

It was a miracle that the hours didn't collide, and it’s not like you could cancel; you have seen how eager they were when you said yes, and you didn't want to disappoint them.

Once you showered you walked down the stairs, heading to the kitchen so you could get a boosting drink, not really thinking about taking breakfast when the first thing on the list was assisting to Heartslabyul's tea party.

You saw a glass of juice sitting on the top glass of the fridge, and you decided to give it a try, because what’s the worst that could happen?

It tasted bitter, and you frowned at the flavour, gagging while placing the now empty cup on the countertop, almost letting it drop when a yell came out of nowhere.

“Henchman! What are ya' doing!?” Grim hurried over to your side, recognizing the singular vase you were previously holding.

“Ah, drinking juice?” You sent him a confused look while washing the cup. “You made it? You could have added more sugar to it...”

“That wasn't juice MC!” Now you’re confused.

“What—?”

“That was my credit potion for Crewel's class!”

Oh, oh.

You dropped the cup in horror and shock, being at a loss of words.

“Why the hell would you put an unknown potion in the fridge!?” You started to drink water, hoping that would ease the effects of whatever you just drank.

“I suppose I may have forgot to take it out... But that doesn't matter! Now I don't have anything to present!” You stood there, ominously glaring at him. Grim really has to be grateful that looks can't kill.

“Grim, what was the potion for?” Your tone causes him to have shivers down his spine,

having a murderous aura along with piercing and threatening eyes.

“Ah, well, I... Really don't know...” He muttered the last part, but it was still heard by you, only increasing your rage.

“You don't know!?” You calmed yourself down after seeing Grim at the verge of tears, taking deep breaths. “Okay, if it's for a Crewel's class it can't be poison, but you made it so that means... It can be poison."

You started to walk towards the front door, turning your head at him before exiting through it. “We will deal with this later, that is if I'm not dead. For the meantime, I expect this place to be completely clean when I come back."

Certainly, it's the greatest day of your whole life, and probably your last.

HEARTSLABYUL’S FORMAL GUEST

A ball gown. Hollow to floor with large, black sleeves. Uncovered shoulders blades lead to puffy forearms, made with a very soft material. It had a smooth lace tracing the neckline, and also a corset, which was perfectly adjusted. The wide skirt was the main attraction, waving at the minimum movement. The colours resembled those of Heartslabyul; the red, black and white harmonizing beautifully, looking like a dress a Queen would wear. A royal bun, loose but not enough that it would look messy. A few strands of hair were placed on both sides of your hair, topping it with a small crown.

Heartslabyul was trying something new. A breakfast tea party, clearly following the strict rules so that it would be a meeting worth of the Queen of Hearts; and you, obviously.

Ace and Deuce pestered asked you for the whole week, insisting that you should come and even giving you a fancy invitation with Riddle’s neat handwriting on it, stating: “You are formally invited to partake in the Breakfast's Tea Party of Heartslabyul, the next Saturday at 8:00AM."

The duo had barely seen you the whole weekend, and they were with you in the same classes, so imagine the time you spent with the others.

They saw the chance of talking to you in the lunch, thing you were doing outside of the cafeteria so you could get more work done in peace. Not that you can really be in peace when being friends of these two dorks, who whined about you not loving them anymore.

You chuckled at the setup, and you asked what they wanted. A couple of seconds after the question, Ace shoved the letter on your face, telling you the contents before you even read it.

You said yes, it wasn't like you could refuse anyways, and some Trey's goods would cheer you up after so much work.

At your agreement they swore they could cry from excitement.

Got to say that when you passed through the portal, you didn't expect a wear such a fancy dress out of nowhere as the result of Grim's potion.

Riddle is so red you start to think he's sick. It's like he created a whole new shade when he saw you approaching the table, registering seconds later that you weren't wearing your usual clothes. After that, he's a complete mess. He is trying his best to not stutter or flinch whenever you try to engage a conversation, finding the tablecloth more interesting not really, but he doesn't want you to laugh at him because of his state. He also feels a bit conflicted, since the gown reminds him of his mother; his not so happy memories cross his mind, until, by accident, he sees you smiling at him. And his mind wanders to the thought of you using a wedding dress, and at that moment he realises he spilled his tea (which was thankfully warm) on his hand.

Trey is acting like his normal self. He actually seemed to be the only one who wasn't freaking out, but don't be mistaken; if you inspect his face, you can see a slight blush and a loving gaze directed at you. We can say that out of the five boys, he is the one more capable of holding a regular conversation, after all, he’s Heartslabyul mediator. He is even bold enough to lightly tease you about wearing such a formal attire to a tea party, yet he loves that you showed up like this, thinking that you planned it when we both know that wasn't the case.

Cater is taking pictures so fast that his phone can't register them all. His storage is suffering from the number of selfies and photos he has of you, just from today. But can you blame him? He wants to preserve this moment, only posting a few ones so everyone can see how amazing you are. He would probably, probably delete them from his Magicam if you asked, but there is no way he would delete all of the other ones. How can he erase such precious memories? He would have to be insane to do that!

Ace is that kindergarten kid who has a crush on you. We all know that, yes, but it can't be ignored. Actually, he can't be ignored, since he's messing with your bun and your crown, even putting in on himself. He only stops when you get too annoyed or when Riddle scolds him. Don't have too much faith though, there's no way to stop him; he's a force of nature, the force that wouldn't stop until you pay him attention.

Deuce stops functioning. His brain cells are working so hard to try to maintain a normal interaction with you, but eventually they just give up, leading you to snap your fingers in order to get a reaction. He can't believe he lived long enough to see this part of you, and curiously, he has the same train of thought as Riddle; your dress could be a wedding dress, it just needs to be painted white- And, he’s out.

When you realised what you were wearing, you let out a huge sigh of relief, thinking that this were the effects of the potion and not a horrible death, so at least you get to live another day in this twisted wonderland.

You didn't really care about the dress. Sure, you thought it was beautiful, but it was just a dress, right?

No, it’s not just a dress.

You wondered if the potion had a different effect when suddenly everyone got quiet, and then, boom, five flustered boys at your service.

You couldn't explain the situation because some of them were too busy surrounding you or stop functioning, so you told them what happened around an hour later when they calmed down.

In general, we have four boys who're blushing so hard it rivals Riddle's hair, and one boy who doesn't make it that obvious.

Overall, pretty great experience, you got to eat good food and it was a pretty interesting sight.

SAVANACLAW’S NEW APPRENTICE

A large, sheath dress. Ruffles adorned the hem while the shades transitioned towards the waist, where a lace was tied up, matching the initial colours and patterns, making it a subtle but elegant detail. It was of a soft yellow with some gold motifs, which you thought resembled the Afterglow Savannah, were spread all-over, giving light to a majestic dress. Two braids, which interlaced to create the illusion of a crown; speaking of it, you also had some light, golden feathers tightly adjusted so they wouldn't fall off, the main ornament being a crown with a rose gold jewel.

You complained to Jack one day after a Spelldrive practice in Vargas class, saying that you wished you could be better at it so the others would stop laughing at you, clearly meaning it as a joke.

Well, Jack took it seriously. He went to Leona and asked if you could be part of the Spelldrive training one day, and the lion actually thought about it, thinking about how he hadn't seen you the whole week, so spending some time with you would be nice.

Jack came to you when you were walking to your dorm, being extremely careful because you were holding a huge stack of books, necessary for your notes.

He immediately retrieved the majority of them from you, taking this chance at talking to you to ask if you wanted to join the Spelldrive training at Savannaclaw one day.

You said yes, saying that you could do it the next Saturday, though you had to admit you were confused at the sudden request, and you must have made a frown because Jack told you what you said before.

You laugh at his thoughtfulness, lightly teasing him about it, and he just shrugs it off, with red ears and a happy, waging tail.

And now you are wondering if you should cancel it because how the hell are you going to practice with such a dress?

Leona's first thought when he saw you was that he passed out while sleeping. He took a short nap while waiting for you to arrive, opening his eyes when he heard your greeting, about to affectionately grumble. Instead, he was found staring at you, cheeks starting to become red when realising the kind of accessory you were wearing. He doesn't really focus on the dress, but on your hair, the style and the crown normally used by brides in his home place. He snaps from his trance fairly quickly, and the only thing that gives him away is his faint blush and the way he avoids looking at you for too long, almost telling you that you look on it, but it turns into a teasing comment. Well, it's the thought what counts.

Ruggie dropped his shopping bags, too stunned to take into account that he had eggs there. He went to Sam's earlier that morning, since he had some discounts, smiling to himself at the cheap shopping session, before he heard you calling him. He didn't look at you at first, but when he did, holy mother of Pearl... The rustling of the bag and the crashing of the eggs colliding with the floor was all the sound he processed. He also knows about the hairstyle and the ornament, blushing deeper when you ask him if he's okay. He laughs in embarrassment while answering that he is fine as fine as someone with a huge crush on you can be.

Jack is trying so hard to not be flustered. And if he didn't have a tail it would've worked, because its speed could rival that of Sonic the opm one or the Sega one, take your pick. Because he’s a runner, he has great control over his heart rate, so he can actually talk to you and be calm, or at least for him it seems like it. He doesn't know about the hairstyle, but he does know about the eye-catching thing on your head. He told you that you looked great, also asking why you're wearing that when it was supposed to be a practice session, but he is not complaining.

You had to apologise and explain the reasoning of your clothes. You heard Leona grumble something about taking care of Grim, while Ruggie and Jack shook their heads in disappointment and disbelief.

Safe to say that you didn't make any major efforts while being there. They refused to let you practice in that dress, only doing basic stretching standing up and correcting your position. Other than that, nothing.

It's not that they didn't want you to practice with them, but if you dress was damaged during the process, dear Sevens, they wouldn't forgive themselves.

So, you passed the remaining hour in the bench, watching them as they explained the basics and doing short demonstrations, paying full attention as that was the only thing you could do.

Once the time was done, you bid them goodbye, thanking them for the help as you promised that the next time you would come back with better clothes.

The next time.

They can't help but think of the sight of you in a large, divine wedding dress, and Leona is contemplating the idea of getting you one.

OCTAVINELLE’S UNFORTUNATE TASTE-TESTER

A mermaid-shaped dress. A long skirt made its way to the floor, a silky and shiny fabric layering over it so it wouldn't look plain. It was mainly black, but it had a gradient shade of marine dark blue and purple in the top and the hem, contrasting greatly with the translucent, white scarf that was situated over your shoulders. Soft curls. The volume of your hair increased, outlining the sea-themed hair pins that were placed at one side, giving an elegant air to the look.

These guys were sly. They asked you when you were at the lounge, drinking a little bit more of Jade's tea as you kept writing, not noticing the thoughtful stare that Azul was sending you, nodding at the twins as they approached you.

Your workflow was disrupted when you heard Floyd's loud sigh, as well as Jade's, and you raised an eyebrow at the sudden action.

They both complained very loudly that you were forgetting them, Floyd literally draping over you as crocodile tears invaded his eyes.

You sighed too, telling them that you're sorry so they would drop the theatrics, asking what you can do to make it better, all while continuing typing, a difficult task when you have such a tall boy hugging you.

Azul coughs, and you shift your attention to him. He says that you can do them all a favour, and you're already expecting the worse the moment you see his mischievous smile, along with those of the twins.

He mentioned having some menu ideas, but he needed a loyal customer to try them out, obviously talking about you, and you had no other option than to accept, doing a small pout as you said the day.

Maybe you were supposed to die today either way.

Azul is ready to welcome you with his perfect smile (which he definitely practiced just for this situation), only for this façade to break when he saw you so... Elegant. He quickly tries to hide it, but there's no use when Jade and Floyd saw the whole thing, and he knows he would never hear the end of it after this. He acts all gentlemanly, but that's just because he tries to be prepared for every situation he could get flustered around you, and let's just say that is not working. He is capable of hold a normal conversation most of the time, so cooperate with him, he might even give you a free meal as payment.

Jade is staring, and you don't know how to feel about it. He knows how to hide his feelings better than Azul when it comes to you, so he doesn't really have anything that makes it obvious about his crush on you. He offers you his arm, asking about the reasoning of your really fancy attire, and his curiosity and interest just sparks when you told him what happened that morning. My, are you really that unaware of your surroundings? Then he supposes he has to stay with you for a few days to make sure you don't endanger yourself further.

Floyd doesn't even notice it at first. The one and only thing that Floyd makes when he sees you is making a bee line, running, towards you so he can tackle you into one of his affectionate squeezes. He's too busy cooing at you and being happy about you showing up that he fails to register the gorgeous gown you just appeared with. In all honesty, he doesn't care. I mean, sure, he thinks you look amazing on it, but he's interested by your personality and actions more. Yet this certainly serves as a boost for his attention, so I’m just going to say that you have to be prepared.

You mentally cursed at this dorm's design, because it was nearly impossible for you to escape in this dress, and before you could even think about trying it, you felt yourself being lifted several inches from the floor while hearing Floyd's happy noises.

You didn't even have to walk as he was carrying you the entire time, shifting to a bridal style when Jade told him that it wasn't very proper of him to carry you as if you were a sack of potatoes.

Azul stood next to you, making sure that the food was of your taste and that you seemed happy with it, trying to set you free from the taller twin's grasp, who utterly refused as he hugged you tighter.

It made the eating aspect more difficult, but your worries vanished when tasting the first plate; a delighted gasp leaving your lips as you continued eating, hearing a relieved exhale from Azul and a small giggle from Jade.

Most of the plates presented to you were pretty good, and you hummed contently when drinking a vase of water, checking the hour on your phone.

Oh no.

Excusing yourself, you managed to set free from Floyd's grasp, thanking them for the delicious food and stating which ones were your favourites, hurriedly leaving as if you were Cinderella when the clock strikes midnight.

Well, it wasn't midnight, but it was midday, and that meant that you had to soothe the clingy boy to let you, promising him that you would be with him the next day, and with that, you set you path towards Scarabia.

SCARABIA’S RECENT TRAINEE

A low riding red harem pants and a black off the shoulder top, connecting both garments with translucent stripes, which graded from black to red to make sure that it made sense. Everything was covered with golden chains with some intricate jewels, tinkling at the contact. The pants had a black fire design at the bottom, looking a lot like the original Scarabia uniforms. Low ponytail. It was held up by two golden bands, ending in a small swirl. The main accessory being a golden headband with a sapphire embellished to it.

Kalim was known for being happy most of the time. Most of the time. The poor boy thought you were mad at him when you barely paid him any attention in the span of that long, long week.

It went to the point in which he thought you would forgive him for whatever misdeed he had done by buying you anything that reminded him of you, and there was nothing that Jamil could do to stop him.

You visited Scarabia one day, Jamil's suggestion of helping you with some history questions had you walking there; you certainly didn’t expect to see what a surprise a huge stack of gifts, neatly piled up in the dorm's living room.

You had to reassure Kalim that you weren't mad at him, just overworked, and his face bright up once again, happily hugging you.

He told you that Jamil will be helping him with some dance moves, and the latter was forced to cover Kalim's mouth, but it was too late; the box had been opened, and so did your curiosity.

You accepted, telling them that you would be free the next day (aka, the infamous Saturday), much to Jamil's dismay. He exhaled, hiding his flushed face in his hoodie while thinking of the fact that you would practice with him.

Kalim is confused, but is a good type of confused; he doesn't know why you're using this outfit, in fact, he didn’t even realise that you weren’t using different clothes in the first place: he tends to have tunnel vision when he spots you, slowly dissipating after some seconds and that’s when he takes notice of the outfit, and then, he remains quiet. And that’s starting to worry you because is weird that Kalim isn’t talking about his excitement and being around you like a puppy. You went up to him and he stutters about how beautiful you look; sweet things you would expect from a boy like him. Though he has to ask where did you get the traditional headband that engaged woman use in his land.

You can’t even see Jamil’s face at first, his hoodie hiding his flushed face as soon as he saw you. That way he can actually talk to you, instead of being a literal rock, because he doesn’t want you to see him in such a state, with pink cheeks and a love-struck gaze. He does tell you that you look good, in a very… Jamil way; suddenly asking why you’re wearing that, muttering a: ‘It looks good on you’, regretting it almost immediately because now you’re asking him if you heard correctly. He cuts you off and says that you all have to start stretching, ears burning in embarrassment.

After explaining the story, you saw a completely worried Jamil, who scolds you about your reckless reasoning of drinking something that was obviously suspicious, all while Kalim is trying to calm him down.

You apologise while laughing, the fact that he’s concerned about you touches your heart and he stops at that, announcing that all of you had to stretch in order to maintain his composure.

The practice was fun; they taught you some of the traditional moves of the Scalding Sands and it was entertaining hearing all the jingles coming from your outfit, not noticing the mesmerizing stare that the boys were sending you.

You were there for approximately one hour, and that’s when you get a text from Vil.

You groaned, saving your phone, muttering a small: ‘Sorry, I have to go’.

Telling them you should do this other day, you left. When you did though, dear Kalim was starting to search similar clothes that he thought you would look great in, and surprisingly enough, Jamil didn’t stop him, curiosity getting the best out of him.

POMEFIORE’S UNEXPECTED MODEL

An A-line gown. This one was larger than the others, bringing along a long cape with it. The plan palette contrasting the golden glitter on the hem of the cape, a black and smooth surface that you could see through it, but just at the end. The main colours were a dark shade of purple for the dress and black for everything else, with some glances of gold in the accessories, but that was it. A loose braided crown, with a real one over it; the beautiful yet simple design being a delight to the eye, as well as the rubies adorning it.

Epel begged (and when I say he begged was that he was on his knees, looking like he was praying) for you to come with him at the modelling session that Vil will have for him.

You were there, baffled at this out of nowhere action, and in the heat of the moment (mostly to make the boy stand up) you agreed.

This time though, you couldn’t choose a date, because it was programmed from the start, so at least you’re thankful your mind didn’t mess up this one.

You haven’t had the experience of being with the Vil Schoenheit in a clothes trying affair, but it was definitely something that was worth trying, regardless if the experience itself was good or bad.

He thanked you, quickly standing up fixing his uniform so Vil wouldn’t scold him, unaware that Rook was hearing the conversation, animatedly walking towards his dorm leader so he could break the news to him.

When he heard this, he brainstormed ideas and even considered getting you a Pomefiore uniform, thinking of ways to convince you to use it.

Vil’s face betrays him as he shows his astounded expression. It seems like he underestimated your fashion choices, but he’s puzzled because, MC? Why use such an elegant gown when you’re going to a clothes trial? Once he understands what happened though, his faith on you faded a little bit, but don’t worry MC, he will make sure you know how to compliment your natural beauty. He’s inspecting the dress as you stand there, getting dizzy for all the turns he was making you do. Letting a hum of approval, he mentions something about buying you both matching outfits- Scratch that, he decided he would make them himself.

Rook is kneeling before you, literally. He always praises you for everything you do and everything you wear, and this isn’t the exception. He takes your hand so gently, afraid that you would be scared by his antics, but he smiles against the soft skin of your palm when you tilt your head, looking adorably confused. It didn’t last long as Vil retrieved you from his grasp, annoyed. He chuckled at that, thinking about how to take care that his Trickster didn’t accidentally poison herself.

Epel has his mouth shaped like a ‘o’. He’s the first to ask, very loudly may I add, why the hell are you wearing that, but like, more soft since he was talking to you. After the story time, he lets out a small apology after Vil chided about manners with guests, his agitation quickly becoming embarrassment as he actually takes a good look at the costume; he needs a couple minutes to recover from the sudden shock, so don’t be harsh on him, it’s just that he’s passing through a lot of mixed feelings right now.

The truth is that you didn’t get to try any clothes on during your whole stance in Pomefiore; mostly because Vil was too busy checking the entire thing and Rook was by your side, making his job more difficult. Epel, as I said, is perplexed; should he feel relieved because Vil is focusing on you, or should he be mad that Vil is focusing on you? He doesn’t know.

Vil, being Vil, found a few errors in your unplanned dress, bringing a notebook with him so he could write things that he wanted to apply on the designs of the new one, and you get to see him do one of his rare, pure smiles out of giddiness.

He also inspected your hair, and as he did that, Rook approached to tell you one and another time that you were beautiful; that no one in earth could rival your ethereal being and you were worried what Vil would have to say about that.

Nevertheless, he hummed in response, and you were ecstatic.

Poor Epel tried to make a casual chat, but he was so nervous that his accent slipped and he had to endure a few minutes of Vil’s scolding, quietly thanking you for being there as you distracted him with a detail on your cape, and once again his attention was on you.

When the time was over, your legs and feet were sore after all the standing, thankful for the next event as it meant that you would get to sit down for the next hour.

You excused yourself, and what a shame that you didn’t see the guys pout as you crossed the door, as they were absolutely gold.

IGNIHYDE’S GAMING ROUGH DIAMOND

A short dress. From the largest we pass to the shortest, just a little bit up the knees; a robe cape that had a skull pin on the left part attached to it covering most part of it so the length wasn’t noticeable. In the end it had a cloudy texture and it looked like a goddess garment, creating the illusion as if you were walking on air. Apart from that, all the set was black, with some blue flames on it, which alluded to Hades powers. A Dutch braid. This one was also similar to a crown, but it seemed much bigger, the strands that came out of it perking up, tinted of an enticing shade of blue.

Idia was sulking the whole week. Only because you didn’t have time to play with him and he had to face the villains completely alone, as he was reminded during a cut scene of your charming laughter when you lost; something he never really understood, but it was cute nonetheless.

Ortho tried to convince him into going to Ramshackle, but just when it seemed like he was actually going, he curled up into a ball in his bed and refused to move.

The younger Shroud knocked on your door one afternoon, giving you a quick greeting as he asked you if you could come to Idia’s gaming session the Saturday.

You couldn’t refuse to Ortho, so you happily complied, wondering if he already knew that that day was your free day.

Idia let out a high pitched scream at the news; he hoped that he wouldn’t make fun of himself while being with you, something that was only possible if you were next to him, for real.

Hades better help him out to not die of shame.

Idia passes out. The only reason he wasn’t hurt when he woke up was because you managed to catch him on time, resting his head on your lap. He opened his eyes a few minutes later, meeting your concerned ones as you asked him if he was okay, and his hair combusted into pink flames at the heart-warming sight. He has already done the only thing he feared the most: embarrassing himself in front of you. He stands up so fast because of the adrenaline, trying to overcome the mortifying scene by making a teasing comment about your dress, and he ends up redder after your sincere thanks. You’re going to be the death of him, maybe quite literally.

The reason the session took longer to start was because both you and Ortho were trying to get Idia back to his senses, as he passed from a living dead state to a pink candle.

Somehow he calmed down, only looking at his phone because if he saw you he was sure he would pass out again, sighing in defeat at the recent memory.

Even after the awkward situation, the playing went smooth. You were pretty good in this game, a RPG with some rhythm elements added to it, along with the OP cards that you gained while spending your goods at the gacha some weeks ago.

You needed more practice, but the talent was there, and just when you were getting comfortable your phone played a catchy ringtone, indicating an upcoming phone call.

You didn’t have time to say ‘hello’ as Sebek was screaming at your unpunctuality, claiming that his young master had been sad for the past 10 minutes.

Exiting the game, you expressed your gratitude for letting them stay at your dorm, and Idia muttered: ‘You’re welcome to come whenever you want though’.

You compromised to play another game later on, and for the first time in the afternoon, Idia, willingly, exchanged looks with you, promptly regretting.

You left before he could pass out, and he would be forever grateful for that.

DIASOMNIA’S HUMAN PROFESSOR

A trumpet dress. It had a long tail, but it wasn’t longer than the Pomefiore one; either way, this gave more of a…Goth vibe, slightly damaged at the ends. The full circle cloak helped cover the bare shoulders, a little heavy since it was made of a thick fabric, yet it truly increased the royalty aura that you were exuding. It was mainly black, with the sparks being of a raven purple; the flashiest colour being the neon green situated on some details of the dress, along with the cord that maintained the cape secured around your form. Feather cut hairstyle. It didn’t have accessories, nor braids or any ties, the only thing over your head being two black horns that were glued on it; smaller than Malleus horns that is.

This time you weren’t the one being the guest or being taught something; you were the teacher. And it started when you were taking a break from the overwhelming study that you’ve been doing since the week started.

Malleus always strolls there at night, waiting for you, and when you didn’t come to visit, he was enraged; the anger becoming sadness when he thought that you were mad at him, or even worse, you didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

Because the two of you were in different years, the probability of spotting you down the hallway was very low, now add to the problem that you were passing most of your time in the library, the Mostro Lounge or your dorm; now that reduces the chances to zero.

Lilia tried to cheer him up, as well as Silver, and when Sebek knew about this he explained that you were busy with your homework, and that eased him up a little.

But just a little; Malleus is very possessive and he needs to see you to make sure you are okay, so he knocks the door one night, hearing the light creaking of the wood as it opened to reveal you.

He tried to refrain himself, but at the end, he ended up hugging you. It was comforting; you didn’t push him away and you stayed there, in silence, until you broke the ice by asking if he wanted you to pass by Diasomnia tomorrow.

He smiled, saying that it would be a pleasure to receive you in his dorm.

And that’s how you scheduled the plan, leaving it for last because the other things were already timed, reserving it for casual talking about your world and human customs.

Malleus takes your hand, gets down on one knee and is preparing his words to get you engaged to him, no jokes here. However, before he can say the magical words, Lilia awkwardly laughs and cuts him off, distracting you so he can say that it’s maybe a little too early for him to marry you. He strongly disagrees, but he does gain some awareness when told that that could ruin your friendship, so he accepts, defeated. But that is not going to ruin his mood; you being there, talking to him and happily telling some stories of your world is enough for now.

Lilia is delighted, his laughter echoing through the room after Malleus tried to wed you. The style of this dress really has a resemblance with those of the Briar Valley, but it’s very unique, and maybe it’s because you’re wearing it. Even though he stopped Malleus from proposing, his mind can’t help but think about you in a traditional wedding dress of his hometown. He wonders if he can get you to use it one day, yet it stops there when he hears you cackling because of some funny anecdote that you were telling. It’s better to cherish the present, he thinks.

Silver is awoken up suddenly because of Sebek’s scream at the action of his young lord. He takes a moment to process the scene as he opens his eyes, ready to defend his soon to be king, and that’s when he sees him kneeling in front of you; noting the kind of clothes you are wearing, his cheeks burning ever so slightly. When the commotion was over, he sat next to you, and he tried to stay awake, he really did, but the soothing tone of your voice relaxed him to the point where he places his head on top of yours, quiet snores leaving his mouth.

Sebek thinks you are really going to marry his young lord. If Lilia didn’t stop him, he would; out of anger at you for seducing his master, or jealousy because he liked you too? We would never know, but what I do know is that if it was the latter, he will feel remorseful of his feelings, mostly when he realised that you didn’t even planned to come like this at first. He shuts up for a second, mind rebooting because wow, human? Tell him why are you such a beauty?

Lilia took advantage when Sebek quiet down, hurriedly sitting you in the sofa while asking some questions about your universe.

That made way for everyone’s curiosity (except Silver, he was busy sleeping on top of your head) to perk up, the air being filled with different questions about the place where you came from.

Malleus asked about the wedding customs, mostly human ones, and Lilia was surprised, to say the least, when you responded every one without suspecting a thing. How oblivious can you be?

Lilia wanted to know some recipes, and you told him some that you thought they all would enjoy; but there’s no limits to Lilia’s menacing cooking, even if he doesn’t have to use the stove or the oven he still will manage to make horrible meals, so you were very careful with your words. A futile attempt for sure, but let’s continue.

Sebek asked about the royalty and everything regarding the upper class, since he was curious that in a world with no magic, people still obeyed humans with no magical abilities. Less to say that you don’t actually know how to respond that.

It was getting late, and you noticed that the time was almost up, so you excused yourself with the same manners as before; thanking and promising to meet them next time, walking back to Ramshackle.

At the end, Grim hadn’t done much, only a couple things were cleaned and he was sleeping soundly on the sofa with tuna cans surrounding him. You sighed at it, sitting down in the couch with your pyjamas on, softly caressing the fur of the creature.

Your phone started to beep, messages popping up on the screen of everyone you just saw today, and you chuckled at that, starting to respond to every single one of them.

Maybe the fancy clothes were gone, but the havoc will still continue.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober- Day 7: Virginity- Adam Warlock

Note: a bit of sweet one and yes I 100% think Adam would want to be both dominant and submissive at the exact same time

Summary: You and Adam drive each other crazy and late one night on the ship you take Adams virginity

Word count: 2,736 words

Ever since Adam had officially joined you and the rest of the guardians all you could feel was conflicted. Though he had the body of a gorgeous fully grown man, he was still very pure and sweet. Part of you wanted to protect him, help him and teach him; thus far that’s what you had done and the two of you had grown quite close.

Another part of you however was a less innocent, another part of you wanted to corrupt him. Though you saw him as innocent you also understood that he was an adult in a way, it was just different to how humans are.

Little did you know however that he felt the same about you. He saw you as his care giver, his friend, his teacher, but he also saw you as a gorgeous woman who cared for him.

Adam didn’t fully understand what his body did when you were around him but he knew it felt good. It took him a while to realise what that good feeling was however. It was one night when he sat alone in his room and was thinking about you that he began to realise what it was his body was doing.

That night and any night a week he had alone he’d sit in his bed and picture it was your hand around him. He imagined how your breasts might bounce as you stroke him, he imagined your cheeky smile as you were the one making him cum.

Adams imagination was limited as he didn’t fully comprehend what sex was or what it could include. You on the other hand knew exactly what it could be. Your routine seemed similar to Adam, you too pleasuring yourself and picturing Adams fingers being the one pleasuring you.

You both seemed to tease each other without even realising it, feeding each others nightly fantasies.

He didn’t realise how much it affected you when he’d reach above you to help you grab things from the top shelves of the ships little kitchen, his strong body pressing into you. Or how he’d put his head a top yours when you’d accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder, waking up to find his arm wrapped around you.

You however weren’t so innocent yourself.

The way your hips swayed when you’d dance on the ship after a successful mission, or how you’d hold him so gently when you’d help him clean up scrapes and cuts he’d gotten while fighting. You drove him mad with desire and need.

************

After a successful mission you sat in your bunk on the ship, earphones in listening to music. The others had gone to bed a while ago, you’d been up for about an hour now, just listening to music and thinking about Adam. When your thoughts started to get a little too heated and your could feel your panties starting to get more and more wet, you decided it was time to get up. Since your feelings for Adam had begun you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t do anything on the ship, you didn’t want to risk getting caught.

You took your earphones out and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, maybe that would calm you down a bit. As you walked through the ship you pass Adams door, hearing a couple low grunts you thought nothing of it, assuming he was just dancing or working out, but when you heard your name being moaned you stopped in your tracks.

Walking up to his door again you pressed your ear to the door to listen a bit more.

“Aah y/n, aaa-aah! Fuck!” You could hear Adam quietly moaning.

You didn’t know what came over you and you knew you really shouldn’t have but hearing him moan your name like that, it seemed your body had a mind of its own.

As you slowly opened the door you saw Adam completely naked, his hard golden cock leaking pre cum as his hand movement quickly up on down. His gorgeous body covered in sweat and his eyes closed, head thrown back and mouth slightly open. Seeing him in such a way all of your previous conflicted feeling were officially gone.

You knew you shouldn’t but once again it seemed your body had a mind if its own. Slowly you started to undress until you were completely naked standing in front of the golden man. You stood at the foot of his bed before you decided to speak.

“I should walk around the ship in the middle of the night more often.” You spoke up with a cheeky grin plastered on your face.

As soon as he hear your voice his eyes flew open and he quickly moved to cover himself.

“You need a hand there, Adam?” You ask cheekily as you crawl onto his bed, sitting on your knees right in front of him.

As you looked at him you were starting to feel a bit bad, he’s pulled his blanket up his chest and he’s staring at you panicked, like a rabbit caught in head lights.

“Adam, baby. Are you okay?” You ask him, gently reaching out now starting to worry.

“I’m sorry!” Was all he could quickly blurt out.

Before he had the chance to run off, you quickly leaned in and cupped the side of his face. At your contact his eyes fluttered shut again and his leaned into your hand, rubbing his face against your palm like a needy cat.

“Do you want me to leave, Adam?” You ask him gently.

This seemed to upset him too as his eyes shot open and stared right into your own eyes. Shooting up his hands reached out for your face and hip, wanting to pull you into his lap.

“No, please stay, I want you to stay I-I need you, y/n.” He tells you as you’re now straddling his hips and his hands are squeezing into your thighs.

For a moment he just stares at you, marvelling at your body, as if he’s never seen anything so perfect and beautiful. The longer he stares the more you can feel his cock begin to twitch beneath you.

“Do you want me, baby?” You ask him, feigning a bit of innocence as you took both his cheeks in your hands and begin grinding on him, the blanket preventing you from grinding directly onto his cock.

Even this slight movement however had him melting under you.

“Yes please, I need you, I need you so bad.” He whimpered out as your grinding started to pick up a little pace.

You slowly took one of his hands in yours and placed it on one of your breasts. Feeling like instinct or just pure lust was taking over him, he gently began to massage your breast. As he massaged you you took the blanket away, revealing himself fully to you.

“Can I touch you, Adam?” You ask him gently and quietly.

“Please.” He pleaded with you, not just with his voice but with his eyes.

You reached down and slowly took his cock in your hand, stroking him with a gentle rhythm. Feeling your hands working him, even though it was at such a gentle pace, awoke something in him. All of a sudden he’d flipped you both; underneath him he grabbed your face and began to kiss you passionately.

Your hands quickly reached for his hair and his hands grabbed both of your hips, squeezing and kneading them.

“I need you.” He lightly growled as his lips left yours, looking into your eyes intensely.

He needed you and you needed him, but unfortunately it wasn’t that simple. You knew you needed to explain this to Adam before you could continue. Pushing him slightly off of you, you pushed yourself up so you could properly look at him.

“Adam, baby, do you know what this is? Do you know what sex is? I’m not asking this because I think you’re stupid, I’m asking because I want you to know fully what you’re asking.” You spoke to him gently, holding his face in your hands.

He pondered what you had asked him, trying to find the words to describe what he knew.

“I know that being around you makes me hard and I know when I touch myself that I feel really good and then I seem to uummm… explode? I don’t know if there’s a word for it.” He responded, looking very sheepish and hopeful that he was correct.

“It’s called an orgasm, Adam. What else do you know, darling?” You ask him softly, sitting up even further and stroking his face.

“I know that I like the way you touch me and that when I see and touch you, my body starts to tingle and I start to feel excited. I’m also pretty sure something happens between a man and a woman where they have sex together but I’m not 100% sure what that is.” He half told you and half asked you.

“Okay well that’s a start, I guess. Did you want to learn? Do you want me to show you these things? I don’t want to take advantage of you and I want you to know how this all works.” You ask him as you gently rub his face.

“I want you to show me. When I touch myself I think about you, you’re the one who makes me feel this way. I want you. I might not know just yet what that means fully, but I know I want you.” He confesses sweetly.

Feeling your heart flutter you give him a sweet smile and a kiss to his lips.

“Okay, darling. You lay down and I’ll teach you.” You tell him as you switch places.

You gently take his hand in yours, kissing his palm sweetly.

“When you get aroused you get hard. When I get aroused this is what happens.” You tell him as you take his hand and place it on your wet pussy.

Feeling you, his fingers start to move and he groans.

“Mmm, you’re so warm.” He moans, moving his fingers along you, trying to memorise what you feel like.

During his little exploration he lightly touches over your clit, making you gasp out softly. His eyes jump to yours and a small smile creeps onto his face, knowing he’s done something right. Seeing if his theory is correct he lightly rubs over that area again, feeling your little nub. Seeing what it’s doing to you, he begins to rub it again and again.

Moaning and gasping trying to explain, his smile grows bigger as your moans become louder and your body begins to shake. Taking him by the wrist you reluctantly push his hand away to explain, causing Adam to pout.

“That little nub you were rubbing is my clitoris or you can just call it a clit. It’s a bundle of nerves and it makes me feel really good, like you saw.” You tell him as you both start to giggle together.

“Rubbing that is what gives me an orgasm.” You continue to explain to him. At hearing this his hand goes to rush back to it, wanting to give you that pleasure too. Quickly you take his hand in yours, stopping him from touching you again, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“As much as I want that, I still have to explain one last thing to you.” You tell him as you gently take his hand again, placing it right at your entrance.

“The way men and women have sex is that the man will put his penis inside of a woman.” You explain to him, trying to be as informative as possible.

Adams face jumps from your face to his hand on your pussy excitedly as the idea is starting to go through his head.

“Can we do that? Please, I need you, please.” He begs you as he starts to kiss your neck.

Feeling yourself get even more wet and feeling Adam get harder beneath you, your need for him also begins to grow.

“Of course we can, baby.” You moan, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, holding onto him as he continues to kiss your neck. You let out little moans as he kisses over the sweet spots on your neck.

Pushing him back so you can position yourself properly.

“You just lay down and I’ll take care of you, baby.” You tell him, as you now begin to kiss his neck and draw those sweet sounds out of his.

As you continue to kiss and nip at his neck you push him down as his body slides down to the bed so he’s laying on his back.

Once he’s comfortably on his back you take your cock in his hand and begin to stroke him lightly again.

“Okay, baby. Are you ready?” You ask him softly as you begin to lift your hips up to aline with him.

Instead of giving you a verbal response Adam grabs your hips and begins to push you down onto him. Gently gasping as you felt him begin to enter you, you understood how eager he was and began to slowly lower yourself onto him. As you bottom out you both moan out in unison.

Finally looking down into his eyes you bite your lip in anticipation and begin to lightly grind onto him, causing you both to let out a low moan. Being impatient once again, he starts to rock your hips and move his own to a pace and rhythm that suits him. Steadying yourself with hands on his chest you rock yourself with his rhythm.

Sometimes you seem to forget just how strong he truly is as he forces a fast and hard pace into you. Seemingly not satisfied with the pleasure he’s giving you he remembers what you showed him early. Smiling devilishly he takes one of his hands away from your hip and begins to rub your clit, hard and fast as his hips push into you even harder.

Covering your mouth to prevent the loud moan that was about to erupt from you seems to annoy Adam. Quickly he grabs you by the back of your head and drags you down into a deep and heated kiss as he thrusts into you harder.

One hand is on your hip as the other continues to rub on your clit. Slowly the hand on your hip reaches back into your hair and tugs on it lightly.

“I want to hear the sounds you make, love.” He whispers in your ear seductively.

How is it this man only learnt about sex tonight and he’s already about to give you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had?

Feeling yourself getting close you bury your face into his neck.

“Aa-aah. Adam I’m gonna cum, fuck! Baby I promise when we get back to Nowhere I will scream for you as loud as I can, I’ll even let you fuck me while you’re on top but right now we can’t make too much noise.” Hearing you tell him those dirty things makes him growl out as he pulls you in for another heated kiss.

Grinding yourself down onto him more you can feel your orgasm approaching. It only took a few more strokes of your clit from Adam and a few more thrusts before you were burying your face in his neck once again to prevent your loud scream as you came hard, your body shaking from the force of the orgasm.

Feeling your pussy pulse around him he growled loudly as he grabbed onto your hips and fucked into you fast and hard, chasing his own release. You quickly crashed your mouth onto his in a heated kiss as he came, before he had the chance to scream out.

Both coming down from your high you stayed laying on top of him for a while. After a few minutes of catching your breath you gently pulled out of him and laid beside him. Holding you in his arms safely he grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over both of you.

“When we get back you have to show me everything you know, darling.” He almost growls as he playfully grabs onto your ass, making your let out a little squeal.

[multifanhoe99]

Kinktober Day 3- Lingerie

This is gonna be self-indulgent as hell and I am not sorry but also I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: non-idol!JB x afab!Reader

Warnings: Pet names (Daddy, Princess, Baby), mentions of panty stealing, mentions of masturbation, oral (fem. receiving), PIV intercourse, creampie (fem. receiving), no condom (be safe out there y'all), spanking, hair pulling

=Please let me know if I missed any.=

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

~18+ MDNI ~

It was not often that you wanted to buy fancy things. Even less often the fancy stuff you happen to buy turns out to be something sexy to wear for your husband. This time you couldn't help it. One day in your boredom you decided to do some online shopping and found a gorgeous lacey emerald green set that you knew would look amazing against your skin tone. Even better it was on sale! One night's bored purchase is another night's fun. Honestly, you had almost completely forgotten you bought it until it came in the mail today. It was a pleasant surprise, a gift from your past self and you couldn't help but be thrilled. Just then you got another idea. You were going to make an event of it. You had the day off to relax anyway why not make it worthwhile. With that determination in mind, you went to take a shower to get ready for what you had planned. After your shower, you applied some light makeup and fixed your hair into neat french braids that finished off as low pigtails. He liked your hair like that for very obvious reasons. Then you put on the new lingerie set you bought. On top of it, you put on the dress you know he loves seeing you in the most. It's a long red sundress with flowers on it and a slit that goes up the middle rather than down the side. Once you were all dolled up and ready you decided to head to the kitchen to fix up his favorite meal and to set the table like they would in a restaurant.

When you were finally done you sent a quick text to your husband, -I have a surprise for you when you get home! I hope you like it I love you. See you soon!- You knew he should be on his way home by now and the notification would come up on the dash screen of his car. A few minutes later you get his reply, - I can't wait! I am almost home. I love you too!- It was exciting waiting in anticipation for him to come home. Not even five minutes later while you were putting the finishing touches on the meal you heard the front door open and close. You went out to greet him, "Hello my love how was work?"

"Ah, you know same old-," he pauses when he finally looks up from taking off his shoes to switch to his house slippers, "Wow, what's the special occasion that my beautiful wife feels the need to make my knees weak."

"There is no special occasion I just felt like pampering my handsome husband because he's been working extra hard lately," you replied moving closer to give him a kiss. He instantly returned the kiss and placed his hands on your hips. Before the kiss could get any more heated you pulled away, "Dinner is ready in the kitchen. I made your favorite."

"Have I ever told you that I love you," he asks following you into the kitchen/dining room.

"Only every single day Jae," you respond with a giggle at his affection. No matter how long you two have been together Im Jaebum gives you butterflies like it's still the very first date. Upon seeing the spread you had laid out on the table he came up to hug you from behind and whispered in your ear, "So you did all of this just because I have been working extra hard? I feel like you are planning something, Princess."

"What I can't just want to do something nice for you," you ask trying not to give your true intentions away.

"Okay, I will believe you for now. Let's eat then," he says giving you one more kiss on the head before going to sit down. You both enjoy your meal together and he helps you clean up. When everything was cleaned and put away you went up to JB and wrapped your arms around his neck. He placed his hands back on your hips. You lean closer to whisper in his ear again, "There is more to your surprise. Join me in the bedroom will you?"

"See I knew you were up to something," he says with a smile but follows you to the bedroom anyway. You sit him down on the edge of the bed and tell him to close his eyes. Once you are sure he isn't peeking you remove the dress you were wearing and throw it into the hamper in the corner of the room. You let him know that he can open his eyes and when he does you don't fail to notice the way his eyes darken when they look at you. His expression shifts from one of pure admiration to something darker and full of lust. You can hear it in the timber of his voice when he says, "Come here princess let daddy get a closer look at you."

You can't help but do what he asks this was your plan after all and you couldn't be more glad that it worked. As you step closer he places his hands on your thighs. It is gentle at first and then he moves up higher. Wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so he can see as he moves his hands up to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. Then he lands a sharp spank on your left cheek and soothes it by rubbing his hand softly over the spot. "Look at you, baby. You look so good for me all wrapped in lace like this. I will try not to ruin it while I am busy fucking you into oblivion," he growls from his position below you. From that same position, he lifts you up with no issues and tosses you gently onto the bed so that you're lying on your back.

He takes his sweet time kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. He makes his way so slowly to the place you need him most. You can feel how wet you are just from this and he hasn't even properly started yet. You know that he is doing this on purpose and are sure this was his own plan ever since he became suspicious of you planning something. He was moving so slowly and so gently and you knew that he could see how much it affected you from the ever-growing wet patch on your new panties. "Da-daddy please don't tease me anymore I c-can't take it. I need you please," you beg gasping when he nips just a little bit harder at your most sensitive parts.

"That's it, baby beg for me. Beg for me to use this pretty little pussy however I want," he replies finally giving you some type of relief by rubbing a thumb up and down your covered folds. He continued that for a little while longer and then gave in at the sound of your desperate moans. He pulled the panties down your legs and once they were fully off he shoved them into the pocket of his slacks. You already struggled to think and he was only getting started. It only got worse when he finally gave your pussy the attention you wanted him to. He licked a long stripe up your glistening folds humming in satisfaction at your taste.

"What do you think princess should I take my time eating you out until you cum again and again on my face or would you just like me to get you ready enough to take my cock," he asks. It was getting hard to form words. The combination of his tongue and his two fingers that joined shortly after his question was blurring your mind with pleasure. He stops all movement to say, "Come on baby use your words. Already so fucked dumb and I have barely even done anything yet. What do you want you can say it."

"I w- I want to-to-to- wanna get ready for daddy's cock," you say barely able to string the sentence together. Jaebum had a way of doing that to you and you loved it. You loved being able to give yourself over to the pleasure he brought you and he loved it too. Hearing your answer JB dove in like a man starved. After so many years he knew your body like nobody else and he knew exactly what to do to bring you over the edge. His mouth licking your sensitive clit and his middle and ring fingers plunging deep into you. Every time you'd touch yourself when he wasn't around you could never get your fingers to go as deep as his. He brought you ecstasy like nothing else. You could feel yourself getting closer.

"Daddy I am so close please can I cum I really wanna cum on your face please please, please," you begged almost crying.

"Cum baby cum all over my face and then again one more time on my cock after," he said temporarily removing his mouth from your clit and then going right back. When he replaces his mouth you feel yourself let go coming all over his face and fingers. It feels so good but you know you aren't done yet. He wastes no time moving away to remove his own clothes and then flipping you over. He pulls your hips up and once he has the right position he slides right in. He gives you enough time to adjust to him and as soon as he's sure you're okay he sets a fast pace. At first, his hands are on your hips giving your ass harsh slaps every so often that make you yelp and moan at the painful pleasure. Then his hands move to your hair each hand taking one of the pigtails and then pulling back making your back arch and he is able to hit a new deeper angle. He can feel you tightening around him and he knows you're close again which is good because so is he. He leans down into your ear, "That's it, baby just a little more, and then let's cum together yeah?"

He keeps up this pace and it is only a matter of time before you're falling off the edge cumming all over his cock and he follows seconds after. Cum spurting out in thick ropes into you. It takes a moment for you both to calm down but when you finally do he goes to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean you up. "That was amazing and you should online shop more often if this is what it leads to," he jokes.

"Yeah I will get right on that," you respond with a laugh. He helps you clean up, take your make-up off, and let your hair down. You both fall asleep in each other's arms after exchanging a sincere 'I love you' and you couldn't be happier to end your day with him.

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

A/N: HOLY COW!!! I am so sorry for being so late on this one but like I said it was really self-indulgent and I definitely got super carried away. Luckily day 3 is done and day 4 will be out later today so as a bonus for this one being late you technically get two in one day! HOORAY!

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Five: Party

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: The Oppenheimers' host a party at the house and Robert is as crowd pleasing as usual, especially with the ladies, while you find yourself doubting the relationship and in the midst of a sudden surprising rumor going around.

Word Count: ~4,548

Warnings: Age gap, period stereotypical gender roles, slight infidelity and talk of, gossip, martial angst

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy, i.e. characters such as the Thompsons are made-up and as a whole, this fic is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, etc.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86

If you'd like to be tagged, let me know.

May 1943

The yard was brightly awash in sunlight as you found yourself on your hands and knees digging in the garden plot, preparing to plant and transplanting a couple shrubs. You weren't above physical labor and it was nice to be productive outside of the house and in town; anything involving the earth directly was refreshing.

Life in Los Alamos had smoothed out into a sort of normal routine with Robert working and you studying while keeping house and babysitting the Thompson children multiple times a week. It was a bit isolating day-to-day, but you didn't mind much considering how important this venture was and there was less pressure on your end at least once everyone was settled. Since the kitchen had been remodeled, tonight would be the largest gathering at the house since Robert's 39th birthday bash last month (which marked the occasion by a fine meal of steak and asparagus for dinner and a large cake, lit with an array of candles and nearly everyone in attendance wore shiny party hats). For this evening, the scientists and their significant others were just looking to converse but more importantly relax and have a fun time, so you made sure everything was set and enough drinks were to be served with Robert having shown you how to prepare one of his dry martinis correctly, which you'd be serving to the guests.

At six o'clock, the Thompsons arrived first with their two boys and you led them inside. Little Duncan immediately spotted the batch of sugar cookies you had baked earlier on a whim.

"Cookies!" he yelled, racing to the plate on the coffee table and hungrily grabbing at several with his chubby hands, causing his mother to chastise him with a shocked scold.

"Manners, please!"

But in his excitement, the plate went crashing to the floor and you cringed, quickly bending down to clean up the cracked halves and cookie crumbs scattered onto the rug. Thankfully you had no shortage of serving plates, used to the occasional broken dishware by now.

"No, no, it's okay," you assured the toddler as his bottom lip wobbled and you handed him a cookie which he gobbled up guiltily.

"Duncan, what do you say?" Mrs. Thompson asked sharply.

"Tank you," he mumbled around the mouthful and you smiled, swiftly chucking the plate into the trash.

"I'm so sorry, he can be very careless often," she apologized, but you waved a hand dismissively.

"It's alright. He might as well take the rest since it's likely they will go stale before I alone have the chance to eat them all."

"Doesn't Robert enjoy your baking?"

"Oh, he doesn't really eat and he isn't as fond of any dessert without chocolate in it."

"He still hasn't been eating much?" she asked out of mild concern.

"Well, always rather minimally. He only has a real meal if it's a special occasion or I coherence him to... He usually just has his morning coffee and toast, maybe an orange. I like to think he is just too preoccupied with life and work to consider the normal consumption of food. He's just mentally too full."

"That is still peculiar, though. Good for you to put up with it, heaven knows how annoyed I would get if I cooked and baked all day and my husband ate a measley fraction with hardly any appreciation."

"No, he is grateful about it," you corrected, but she raised a skeptical brow and then you were distracted by more guests arriving.

Once night fully fell, you took up precedence in the kitchen at the counter making drinks and assuring there was enough martinis and appetizers to go around. From the sounds of it, the atmosphere was getting a bit rowdy out in the main party area of the living room: music resounding from the record player, Richard Feynman banging on his bongos, and the sound of shoes dancing the fox trot.

"I see Oppie has put you on drink duty tonight."

You turned to see Dr. Ernest Lawrence standing a few feet away with his signature smirk and you smiled, gesturing with a glass to his direction.

"What, you actually want one?" you teased a bit sarcastically and he winked, the room lights glinting off his round glasses.

"You bet." He accepted the cold drink and took a sip, nodding in approval.

"Never had a better martini," he praised and you took a sip of your own, swirling the strong flavor on your tongue as he leaned against the counter, causally observing about how it was a good turnout.

"It's nearly as many that came for his birthday," you agreed with a nod.

"It's nice to be able to get out of the work atmosphere of the laboratory for a hot minute and relax," he commented.

"I bet. Robert's not giving you too much grief over there, is he?"

"No, just the usual frustrations that I can't talk about, pardon it. You could partly guess it though; it started with my Rad Lab, the unionizing and differential ideas... But I will say as much as we respect each other, Oppie needs to not act so much like a Communist sometimes; it's detrimental to all of us and especially him, the damn brilliant fool," Lawrence said rather bitterly and you raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that oxymoron?"

He shook his head of whatever thoughts he had and finished his drink too hastily, giving you back the nearly empty glass. His fingers brushed your hand for a few seconds, causing both his and your wedding rings to briefly clink together, before he pulled away and smiled again.

"Thanks for the drink, Y/N." He walked out of the kitchen and absorbed into the wider huddles of people in the lounge as you looked on curiously.

About an hour later, you took a break from the kitchen to go converse with a few lady friends and couldn't help but notice Robert seated comfortably on the sofa, bumping knees by being sandwiched in-between his close friend Dr. Ruth Tolman and her husband Richard. She was blonde and attractive, whip smart, and currently listening intently and hanging onto every word and expression he made while conversing and you felt a small prick of unexpected... envy? You knew Ruth personally and she was a pleasant intelligent woman in a challenging field, which made Robert deeply respect her, but it also reminded you of the comparisons and why he admired her. She was significantly older than you (and even had ten years on him) and was trailblazing in her occupation while you were struggling through obtaining a nursing degree despite being plunked down in the middle of government sanctioned nowhere and shoehorned into housekeeping and hosting. You clenched the drink in your hand, nails driving into the glass as you watched them, distracted from your conversation with the ladies, and Robert was animatedly explaining something as she leaned closer, a tinkle of laughter reaching your ears. You excused yourself from the gaggle of women and drifted closer while trying to remain somewhat inconspicuous and watching carefully as he focused intently on her, completely oblivious of you standing no more than eight feet away.

"The damn brilliant fool."

Maybe Lawrence was right? You weren't sure why you were feeling so protectively paranoid all of a sudden. It had to be nothing, but you still felt a tiny smidge of annoyance seeing how much she was clearly enjoying Robert's presence tonight and vice versa (given a few drinks of course) but many women in general were not immune to his strange charm, so it was to be expected. Hell, they had been positively fawning over him at his birthday last month and many in town marveled at his leadership, gentlemanly qualities, and magnetic charisma despite his eccentricities and intimating intellect.

Robert could talk for hours about nearly any academical subject, philosophy, Greek mythology, politics and ideologies (although that was a bit stamped out here due to the secrecy and military oversight), religion, science obviously, any personal matters and interests (except sports), and basically anything that warranted an opinion. And people always listened, no matter if they had precise knowledge in the subjects or not, and the appeal was undeniable to most women you knew, heterosexual or not. He was something special, that was for sure, and you were afraid Ruth might be taking advantage of this as she placed a manicured hand softly on his knee, laughing with him.

You retreated back somewhat to avoid awkwardness in case either him or her noticed you staring (which they never did) and considered checking up on the state of the kitchen, when four-year-old Douglas came excitedly running over, weaving between the legs of the adults.

"Mrs. Oppen-hemmer, come look at what I found!" He abruptly took your hand and pulled you away to the front door and outside into the front yard, plunking himself down on the rock pathway. The glowing yellow lights from the windows and house made shadows cast across the ground in eerie splinters and dark patches on the ground.

"What is it?" you asked, squinting in the dimness to see exactly what he was so invested in and he poked at a black bulbous miniscule shape lodged in the space between the slabs.

"Oh, it's just an arthropod. A common ground beetle, I believe," you told him, disguising disgust as he kept poking at it with interest until you gently batted his fingers away.

"Don't bother it too much," you told him and he sighed, rolling onto his side and staring in fascination that was lost on you, but whatever humored him was fine.

You went to take a seat on the front step, listening to the bubble of conversation, music, and glasses clinking inside the house as you absentmindedly watched the little boy, ruminating on a few past snippets of conversation you remembered having with friends and family, who were commenting critically at the time on your rather fast relationship with Robert before you practically eloped.

"You're making a mistake with a premature marriage, you need to prioritize your education first, a man second."

"Well, didn't you pick one of the highest hung fruit of the land. Dr. Oppenheimer, I must say! You make the rest of us seem subpar."

"But Jean and him make such a impassionate, powerful couple. He calls her his truest love and has proposed marriage to her before you, so he'll only be settling for you if you accept him, don't forget that."

"Sweetheart, listen to me. You know I love you and will accept whomever you choose, but think about this dearly before you exchange vows. A physicist, this older man's a physicist. What on earth are you going to have in common with a scientific genius like that? He'll support the hell out of you with his teaching, I understand, and I like that he's a wealthy born New Yorker, but... and I say this with love - love - you're just not perhaps up to such standards? I want the best for ya honey, I do, but you couldn't match with, say, a businessman instead? Someone who doesn't have his brains up in the high clouds, all this theoretical talk of dark matter and black holes... Do you even understand any of that? You have as much in common with his interests as the moon and he'll never have use for you intellectually, only fundamentally. My daughter's not Marie Curie, forgive me."

That last one had been from your father and you had been personally affronted, insisting angrily that it didn't matter, for Robert didn't only love scientists with very high IQ scores, for goodness's sake.

"Father, he doesn't need me for his fill of physics, he has many outlets and he's not only a man of science; he so dearly loves poetry, art, classical music, equestrians, global and national history, Hinduism - he can read Sanskrit for God's sake! - and any matter of politics..."

"He's too good for you, sweetheart. That man has more knowledge than an encyclopedia, you'd need an index just for reference in his causal conversations. Now, come home back east if this whole college venture doesn't pan out in California... Remember the Paulson's? Jack has a son who just turned twenty and is majoring in finance, he'd love to meet ya, someone closer in age and caliber."

"But I'm not into finance, I'm pursuing medicine and psychology."

"You'd just be a quack in that field, I'm telling you. Follow the market money, not dilly-dallying in dating theoretical physicists and Freudian psychiatry. You need a man who knows his numbers in a practical sense, who will make a stable husband and you a nice homemaker. You're my only child, so I'll be awaiting grandchildren."

It was safe to say your father could be a bit... pushy and simple-minded. You hated the way you were easily boxed in, setting up your life already yet scoffing at when it was too good. You weren't a chemist nor would you be a bank teller (besides, your father was only so fixated on that because he almost lost his entire fortune due to the Great Depression) and yet being only a housewife seemed to be selling yourself short. Since the war began, you saw the need for help in the medical field and if psychiatry wouldn't have you, then you could at least become a nurse with the hopes of eventually excelling to physician with extra schooling. But of course, Robert had obtained his doctorate years ago and his younger ex-girlfriend Jean had graduated from Stanford recently while you were stuck here.

"He's too good for you, sweetheart."

You swallowed, beginning to wonder if that was possibly coming true... Did he only keep you around for the sex, usefulness in the home and kitchen, and for probable inevitable breeding of children? He didn't truly respect you, did he? Were you just an arm piece, the beautiful secure wife to come home to after he, the theoretical celebrity, saved the world? If you had none of those aforementioned qualities and were a "mere, plain waitress" like he would say about his brother's fiancée, Jackie, would he discard you as quickly as last week's newspaper?

Were you only a lovely wife and nothing more?

"We can't all be the spirited intellectual fancy Communist Miss Tatlock," you mumbled unhappily to yourself, hardly noticing that Douglas had come over and was standing in front of you, leaning his body from side to side as he stared at you.

"Okay?" he asked and you blinked, wiping your face quickly to hide the blatant emotion. You hadn't even realized you'd been shedding tears.

"Oh, yes, I'm okay."

He held up his hand gently curled into a fist with his thumb up and wiggled it around.

"I do this when Momma sees me fall, but I'm not hurt. Thumb means okay!" he explained proudly and you laughed, making your own 'thumbs up' and he giggled, bumping his knuckles to yours and making a goofy face, to which you did back, making him giggle in turn.

"Can we play a game?"

"What do want to play?" you asked and he scrunched up his face before exclaiming.

"Hopscotch!"

"Oh, but we don't have the sidewalk chalk for that and besides, it's too dark," you tried to tell him, but he had already made up his mind.

"Lemme go get Dunky and we can play together!" he proclaimed, using the nickname for his little brother and he dashed into the house, coming out a moment later with Duncan in tow behind him.

The boys however proved chalk wasn't necessary and rather only their imaginations as they used the pathway, tossing a rock, jumping, and counting happily. Douglas led the game, his brother following and inadvertently copying his footsteps, and when they insisted for you to join in, you considered the fact that you were in one of your best dresses and worried to be seen as too silly.

"C'mon!" Douglas shouted, doing a gregarious hop a few feet forward, nearly stumbling over his own shoes, and you hoped he wouldn't injure himself and make you liable. You glanced down at your high heels and shrugged.

Oh, screw it.

You removed them and carefully joined the boys all the same, doing a bit of hopscotch until you bored of it and sat back down, slipping your mildly sore feet back into the heels, and were amused at their energetic antics.

"Want to adopt them? I'll ask," Robert's lightly sarcastic voice made you startle and you glanced over your shoulder as he came out of the house and took a seat down beside you.

"I'm kidding," he smiled and you waved a hand fondly over at them.

"They're good boys," you stated as he looked on, sighing wistfully.

"They still haven't felt the sharp sting of the world's cruelty yet nor were they born cruel," he observed.

"I sure hope they never become like that, although as long as we are at war, who is to say?" you replied quietly and he looked at you fondly.

"You're good with them, they trust and like you quite a lot," he remarked, gesturing to the kids with his martini glass.

"I suppose we have formed a fast kinship somehow and I do my best," you replied humbly.

"I can tell. The Thompsons will be leaving soon, why don't you call them in? I believe it is way past bedtime for the young ones."

"Boys?" you called, gesturing and after a moment, they came hurrying up.

"How about you find your mother, okay? I think it's time to go home for bed," you told them and they whined a bit, insisting they weren't tired.

"You don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Robert asked sternly.

"Nuh-uh," Duncan replied, sticking his bottom lip out and Robert patted him on the back, sending them inside and as soon as they left and you and Robert bid goodnight to their parents, he went back outside and sat down in one of the chairs in the yard and you joined, breathing in the smoke from his tobacco pipe. You wondered why he was out here instead of being at the center of the party inside, it was unlike him.

He glanced to you, wary, and the question that came out his mouth next caught you unprepared.

"Have you ever considered having an affair on me?"

You stared at him, any emotional warmth evaporating in the cool night air.

"God, no, what? Robert, you know I have always maintained I'm not interested in other men. Why... Has someone said something?"

"There's a fresh rumor going around that you have a mutual interest in Ernest Lawrence; I heard from one of the women back in there declare that you were clearly flirting with him in the kitchen over a drink."

"A rumor? That's just a bold faced lie! I wasn't flirting in the slightest, we were merely having a plain conversation!" you exclaimed, standing up but his hand caught your waist, gripping at your dress and you sat, glaring and breathing heavily. How dare she... You had a hunch it was the same wife from the first week here who was snarky to you when you were doing the laundry.

"It was just a passing comment, nothing to get worked up over," he quickly backpedaled as you grew visibly angry.

"But that could spread like wildfire in this bunch. I have to speak to that wretched woman!"

"I already told her and those around us that it was utter absurdity. You barely even interact with Ernest causally and I've never picked up romantic inclinations between the two of you," he assured, but you shook your head in disbelief.

"I just can't believe this blasphemy!"

"I couldn't either, which is why I came to you to confirm," he replied.

"I'm glad you did. I would never think of flirting with a married man and all I did was give him one drink as a hostess in our own house. Does he know about this?"

"I spoke to him just before I came out here. He's a bit punchy from the martinis, so he laughed for a minute straight at that accusation, and then when I asked him if he personally considered you to be a pretty woman, he told me that I am a 'pretty man'," Robert answered, uncertain of the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth and you stifled a laugh.

"I see. Well, he's not wrong there, you are dashing."

"Thank you," he murmured and you checked your watch, noticing it was getting late and the guests were beginning to leave. Robert noticed your restlessness and placed a cautioning hand on your arm, squeezing comfortingly.

"Let's avoid confrontation. You just wait here until they're gone," he advised and you pursed your lips, but let him go be the one to bid goodnight and usher everyone out.

After several minutes of watching small groups of friends, acquaintances, and pairs of couples exit down the path to the road one by one, you finally stood and walked back into the house, forcing a smile at a few stranglers left - Robert's men - filing out and helping a couple up from the table as they could barely stand up and walk, having had one martini too many. As you turned around in the hallway, none other than Ernest Lawrence himself bumped into you seemingly out of nowhere and he looked decidedly drunker than you'd ever seen him.

"Excuse me," you muttered, starting to duck around him when he grabbed your wrist and leaned down so swiftly to lock lips, his glasses banging into your face as he smashed onto your mouth with surprising force. You instinctively shoved him back, blinking in shock as he stumbled slightly and steadied himself with a hand on the wall.

"Fuck, get away from me!" you hissed in shock.

His eyes were a bit glazed and he shook his head, wiping his mouth sloppily of your lipstick with the back of his hand.

"No wonder Oppie married you straightaway, the girl can serve a mean martini and a decent mouth-to-mouth," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment, now get the hell out of our house," you ordered, pushing his broad back towards the front door and he didn't resist.

"It's Oppie's world... you and I are just living in it," Lawrence grumbled as you shoved him out, slamming the door, and feeling grateful that his wife had already left with others.

You went quickly to the bathroom and rinsed out your mouth and smeared off the ruby lipstick. You thoroughly washed your face over and over with cold water, frowning when you glanced up with your mascara running and saw Robert's shadow in the mirror behind you.

"I feel as though I've been set up. Your best pal Lawrence just stole a kiss before he left, I thought you'd like to know!" you exclaimed loudly as you wiped your face of makeup with a cloth and he made a noncommittal gesture.

"He was drunk, forgive him."

"You're not upset with this whole nonsense?"

"He never would have done it otherwise if he wasn't under the influence, that's the loosest he gets and frankly I think it's good for him to step outside his stiffer cautionary boundaries. But I'll speak about it to him tomorrow if he even recalls. You have nothing to worry about unless you happen to fancy him, then we do have a problem to fix."

"No, I do not find him as fetching as you. Quite honestly, I'm tired of tonight and wish to go to bed. Goodnight, Robert." You dried your face and brushed past him to change out of your formal dress wear and he stood, watching.

"It feels different when it's the opposite sex, doesn't it?" he inquired in a passive aggressive tone and you snapped, throwing your heels into the closet harder than necessary.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, when it's me and Jean or me and Kitty or-"

"Don't bring up those other women to me, you'll regret it. Please shut up and come to bed when you're ready," you ordered grumpily and slipped into bed in just your bra and panties, covering your body with the sheets and rolling over so you didn't have to see him. You were tempted to ask about Ruth, but that potential fuel for an argument would have to be saved for another day and besides, she was just a long time friend. She never had spoken a bad word about you and was always so supportive to Robert... Perhaps it was only the alcohol that had infected everyone's judgement tonight.

You thought uncomfortably about Ernest's warm drunken mouth suctioning onto yours and you glanced over your shoulder at Robert removing his shoes and relaxing back on the bed, striking up a cigarette and sighing when a terribly naughty thought came to you. What if you stirred up expectations and purposely fed into this "rumor" (or perhaps actual one-sided attraction on his part, you weren't so sure now) just to unnerve Oppie, give him a taste of his own medicine? You had lied a bit earlier about not being interested in other men, of course you glanced at times when someone caught your attraction, but you never actively sought them out and certainly not Lawrence. He wasn't half bad looking, but the idea of provoking this further was tempting yet you knew it was impossible without consequences and you hated to offend his wife. People would find out and you'd be painted in a bad outlook, and you certainly did not wish to be the adulteress of Los Alamos, flirting and hooking up with every male scientist who so as looked at you. Of course, when a man cheated, it was typically not completely condemning of his character, whereas a woman would be splashed with a bold scarlet letter on her chest for the rest of her life. Of course, you wouldn't even be having these thoughts if Robert hadn't said anything and Lawrence hadn't done what he did.

You felt a sudden tug on the sheets and gritted your teeth, yanking them back from your husband who was trying to get comfortable beside you.

"I hope you're not cold," you remarked snappily and he huffed, rolling over very close despite your standoffish attitude and he was likely quite drunk, although he was never one to show it obnoxiously since he took alcohol unusually well.

"I'm not the one lying here nearly naked. Our nights have been so dry, even Sundays, and you know I'll have less and less time the farther we get along in the project. Have you considered we haven't had proper intimacy since my birthday?" he bemoaned.

You ignored that fact, mildly annoyed he apparently needed sex more than once a week and after this evening's events you were hardly in the mood without imagining Ernest's lips on yours.

So much for thinking everything was going well and undramatic... Couldn't even a simple get-together be decent and clean around this place? You supposed not.