#but I was much younger and didn't know enough so I just put it back together with packing tape and kept reading.

[echoes-of-a-dream]

mini me | matt murdock

matt murdock masterlist

synopsis: matt comes home from a long day of work only to get attacked and easily beaten up. luckily for his attackers, they're too cute to get the full wrath of the devil. unluckily for said attackers, he will have retribution--and it will be swift. or: a slice-of-life for matt, reader, and their kidditos.

established relationship | kid fic | married couple | literally just fluff | la lectora habla español por una frase (the reader speaks spanish for one phrase) | inspired by this post by @hellskitchenswhore and this post by @courtforshort15

Matt hears laughter before he gets to the door.

"Okay, bubs, great job," he hears you say. "Uncle Foggy is going to love these pictures."

Four heartbeats thud in the apartment as he opens the door, quiet in an attempt to not wake the slower-and-steadier-than-normal quick one coming from the crib in the bedroom. Three come from the living room, the two younger ones much faster than the older. He sets down his briefcase and removes his shoes, loosening his tie as he makes his way toward you three. Your back is to him and you're entirely focused on your activity of taking pictures of the kids, making this a perfect opportunity to surprise you; he wasn't supposed to get home this early, but the case wrapped up sooner than expected. It was more tiring than most cases, so he just came home rather than returning to the office, too tired to read through more legal documents. And causing you to jump three feet in the air? More than enough reward. Matt grins to himself, pressing a finger to his lips to make sure the kids don't say anything.

He gets closer and puts his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt--but not nearly as much as usual. He frowns as you merely turn your head, tilting it up for a peck on the lips he easily gives, calmly greeting him with a "Welcome home, babe."

There's no more time for conversation as he's jumped by his seven-year-old daughter, Jackie, named after his dad. "Daddy!" She yells as he releases you to catch her.

"Oh no! I'm being attacked!" He says as he 'fights' his oldest. To you, he adds, "You didn't jump." It's phrased as a statement, but you can hear the underlying question.

"Matt. Matty. Matthew, my love." He's pretty sure you're recording this. "Your children--fortunately for me--inherited your incredibly expressive eyes. I knew you were coming."

His huff of only half-faked displeasure at his surprise being ruined is interrupted as he lets out a little oof as a small hand punches his abdomen none-too-gently. Four-year-old-Michael, or Mikey (after Matt's middle name--you weren't a huge fan of the alliteration in Mikey's name, but Matt convinced you eventually) has joined the battle as a foot uses his as a futile step-stool to try to climb up him. He overdramatically doubles over with a groan, allowing Jackie to switch tactics and jump onto his back, hanging on his neck. There's a bit of restriction on his airflow, but he prefers it over, you know, having all his daughter's weight on one foot. It's not enough to make him pass out, at any rate.

"Mommy! Sword!" Jackie calls out as Matt drops to his knees, allowing her feet to touch the ground as she maintains the chokehold, so that it isn't as tight. Mikey continues pummeling Matt, no regard as to where he throws the punches but keeping them coming. He's not quite sure what the strange feel is from his son's hands, but is too caught up puzzling out the request for a sword to give it his attention. One of Jackie's hands leaves his throat to make a grabby motions in the air, and you're only too happy to fulfill your daughter's request, grabbing the plastic sword from the opposite counter--he can hear the shifts in air currents, locates it in his mind--and passes it to Jackie.

But Matt is faster.

"Sword?" He repeats as he unhooks Jackie and flips her onto her back, gently lowering her to the ground and pinning her. He tickles her, wracking his brain for information. Now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers you mentioning a costume birthday party for Mikey's best friend, Riley.

"She's-" You're cut off by a grumble from Mikey. No, not grumble. Growl. Or at least, as close to a growl as a four-year-old can get. He charges Matt headfirst, then, piledriving at top speed into his father and causing Matt to lose balance and land on the ground.

"Don' you dawe," Mikey says, register lower than usual. You're still working on pronouncing 'r's rather than 'w's, so it takes Matt everything in him not to laugh at what sounds like a four year old attempting the Batman voice. For your part, you have no such compunctions.

He allows Mikey to get in a few hits, feel like he's winning, while Jackie, no longer pinned, springs to her feet and takes the sword, pressing the point into his throat.

"Stay down, bad guy!"

"Yeah, s'ay down!"

"Oh, no! You've got me!" Matt grouses.

"Good work, guys," you input, smirking as you kneel beside your husband. He turns his head, sticking a tongue out at you. "What do we think should be his punishment?"

"Tickles!" Jackie, ever the ringleader, decides.

"Yeah, tickles!" Mikey agrees, ever the mimic.

Matt gasps in overdramatic horror. "No, not tickles! Anything but tickles!"

You click your tongue in mock sympathy. "Sorry, Mr. Bad Guy."

Matt has trained himself not to react, but for his kids, he'll gladly throw any training out the window, writhing far more than necessary for the delightful sound of his two oldest's giggles. He'd do far worse to get such a taste of what must be heaven. His pleas and 'no's, too, are theatrical, to the point that even you are laughing at his antics and there's no hiding that grin. After a minute, he's had enough, though. "You'll regret the day you messed with me, the horrible Mr. Bad Guy!" He threatens exaggeratedly, easily rolling over the kids and tickling them both. Jackie squeals and Matt winces as the sound seems to wake the littlest Murdock, Daisy, named for Sister Maggie, from her nap. Honestly, he's surprised she didn't wake sooner with all the ruckus.

"Help, Mommy!" Mikey cries.

"I would, but Mr. Bad Guy is too much for me alone, I need reinforcements. I'll be right back."

"No! No we-fowemints!" Mikey says, but it's too late--you're already gone. "N- no!" He gasps out, but is laughing too hard

"Da- addy, st- ahp!" Jackie tries, also fighting through giggles.

"Oh, yeah? What'll you give me?"

"In- in- infor- ma- ha- tion!"

Matt pauses, allowing the two to catch their breath. He hears Daisy quiet and you begin to make your way back to him. "Oh, really? What kind of information?" He hears you appear behind him, but pretends not to notice.

"Okay, Daisy-doo, there's Daddy, you're gonna get 'im, okay?" You stage whisper.

"Where Mommy is!"

"Oh, really?" He plays dumb.

"Yeah!" Mikey chimes in. "Wigh' behin' you!"

"Get him, Dais!" You say as you gently set your daughter on his back, one of Matt's hands coming up to support her there before you release your grip.

"No!" Matt calls. "My weakness! Babies! The cuter, the more lethal!" It's more a joke for you than the others, and he appreciates your snort at his attempt at humor.

"Tricked you!" Jackie sings as Daisy grips Matt's hair, mouthing at his back as if it's a teething ring. Matt "topples" forward, lowering himself between Mikey and Jackie in a one-armed pushup and removing his hand so Daisy can crawl around as she pleases.

"Yeah!" Mikey chimes in. "Twicked you, Daddy! Now you captuowed!"

"You'll never take me alive!"

"Sorry, darling," You say amusedly, turning his face towards you. "We found cure for Bad-Guy-itis. True Love's kiss."

"No, no! Please no!" He's given away by the curl of a smile peeking through.

You sigh heavily. "I'm afraid so." To Jackie and Mikey, you order, "Hold him down while I administer the cure."

Matt pretends to thrash while his oldest two comply, Daisy content to have moved mouthing at his back to gnawing toothlessly at the curve of his neck. His head stays still as you grin and lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips that he happily reciprocates, thrashing growing in intensity and gently bucking the kids around, who giggle as they hold on, before he stills. You pull away and he blinks slowly, as if waking up. "Wha- Where am I?"

Your serious tone is belied by the grin in your voice. "Welcome back, Mr. Murdock."

"You got sick!" Jackie chimes in as she climbs off, tired of not talking. "Mommy fixed you!"

"Yeah! Mommy kissed it all bettow!"

"Well, thank you," Matt says smoothly. He uses one arm to scoop Daisy off of his neck while rolling over, cradling her, as he sits up. "However can I show my gratitude?"

"Oh, it wasn't me," you deflect. "It was these other two heroes that saved you."

"Yeah! Saved you!" Mikey puffs out his chest proudly.

"Oh?" Matt's amusement shines through. "And who might they be?"

"Guess!" Jackie exclaims.

You laugh. "Jackie, baby, Daddy's got to feel it, remember?"

She grabs Matt's hand and yanks it to feel her jacket. "Guess!"

His hands run along the leather, over the fingerless gloves, jeans, and what must be a cotton t-shirt or tank-top. His eyebrows rise in confusion. "I thought you were a pirate?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Jackie huffs in frustration. "No!"

"If you're mad, use your words, baby," you chide gently. "Maybe let's let Daddy figure out Mikey's outfit, and then he can guess?"

Mikey excitedly thrusts a hand forward, accidentally smacking Matt's face. Matt snorts even as he coaches, "Calm down, buddy." He feels up the arm--a long-sleeve shirt, what must be... gauze? Why is gauze wrapped around his son's hands?

"Face, Daddy!" Mikey urges. Matt raises his hands and feels the mask and resists the urge to bust out laughing. He allows himself a large grin of amusement, a few more chuckles.

"I see I got brought down by the Daredevil," he observes. "Thank you, Mr. Devil."

"I'm the bestest!" Mikey agrees. "Bestest hewo in the whole wide wold!"

"No, you're not! I am!" Jackie argues.

Matt steps in before it can devolve. "However did I not recognize you? Thank you for your help, Jessica Jones."

"Sword Jessica Jones!" Jackie corrects vehemently.

"Right. Thank you, Sword Jessica Jones. And Miss Jones, Mr. Daredevil, I think there can be two bestest superheroes in the whole wide world."

Two responses hit him at the same time. "No!" "No, thewe can'!"

"How about you guys go grab Riley's gift and put on your shoes?" You divert. "Then we can settle who the best hero is."

Jackie takes off before yelling, "Last one's a rotten egg!"

"Hey! No faiw!" Mikey runs after her, having not gotten the same head start.

Matt turns to you as you offer a hand to help him up. Being the good, loving, exemplary husband he is, he instead tugs you down, moving Daisy out of the way so that when you land on him you won't crush your seven-month-old. "Hey," he greets.

You smack his chest lightly. "Asshole."

Matt gasps. "Mrs. Murdock! Such language, and around a child, too!"

"Matthew, I will divorce you."

He smirks. "Gonna need a lawyer for that."

"That's why I've got Fo- oh, no, you don't." You squeak as you avoid his pinch aimed for the sensitive spot on your side. He pouts, prompting you to give him a light kiss to turn that frown upside down. You turn to where your kids ran through, hearing bickering, and sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. "I really don't want to deal with this."

"I've got it," Matt offers, moving to push you off his lap and stand, but you resist.

"Just give me a minute, please." You don't want to move from the nice warm cocoon of being between his arm, wrapped around you tightly, and chest. "They've been at it all day, except for the two minutes I made them smile for pictures and just now, when the one thing that brought them together was destroying you."

"I'm glad I can be good for morale," Matt jokes, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Speaking of, how did...?"

"Sword Jessica Jones?" You finish knowingly.

"Yeah. And mini-me."

"Well, Mikey was actually the first on the costume front." At that, Matt makes a noise of please surprised. "Actually, let me correct myself. Riley was the first--she's going as Black Widow, her favorite superhero. So Mikey decided to go as his favorite, as well."

Matt lets out a pleased hum, honored. Pride and fondness fill him, and he can tell from the sound of your smile in your voice that you feel much the same. "And Jackie?"

Your expression twists, a little more pinched. "She also wanted to go as Daddy. Which led to a fight and since Mikey came up with the idea first, I said he could go as Daredevil."

"How does Jess feel about being the second best option?"

"Very proud. She donated her leather jacket for the cause."

Matt chuckles. "I thought I smelled her. Figured she was just letting Jackie use it, didn't put the pieces together then."

"Yeah."

You're both silent for a moment, until Matt can't keep the question out of his head anymore. "So, what was up with the sword?"

"Jackie wanted to be authentic."

"And authentic means sword."

"No." You tilt your head to gaze up at your husband. "Authentic meant carrying a bottle of booze."

"And you talked her down to a sword."

"And I talked her down to a sword," you confirm. Matt gently but efficiently moves you and stands suddenly, passing Daisy to you, just in time for you to hear a crash and get up in an instant, both headed towards where there is now the sound of crying.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

"A sword I assume she just used on her brother?" You ask, frustrated. It's been a long day and this just takes the cake.

"A sword she tried to use on her brother, who in avoiding it ran straight into the dresser. Knocked over the plant."

You enter the room to find, sure enough, the plant is on the ground, dirt spilled across the room and into the bag holding Riley's gift--which is also on its side. Mikey sits on the ground, cradling his head and crying, while Jackie stands there staring at him in horror. When she spots you and Matt, she immediately starts on her defense. "He started it!"

"Jackie," Matt admonishes, kneeling beside Mikey. In a gentle, quiet tone, he greets his son, "Hey, buddy, can you move those hands for me? Let Daddy check on that boo-boo?"

Tearily, Mikey complies, while you move towards Jackie. "Are you okay?" You check in first. She nods mutely. "Okay. Give me the sword, please." She shakes her head. You count down from ten, exhausted, fed up with the fighting, but refusing to take it out on her. "Jackie. If you can't handle having the sword, you can't have the sword. Give it to me, please."

"No."

"Jacqueline. I won't ask again. I will count down from three, and if I do not have a sword in my hand by the number three, you can stay home from the party with myself and Daisy, and Mikey will go with Daddy."

"No!" She stomps a foot. "How come Mikey gets everything? He gets to be Daddy! How come I don't get my sword?"

"Jacqueline Murdock." It's Matt this time, voice calm and even but not without soberness. He doesn't glance up as he affixes a bandage to Mikey's head. "Give your mother the sword."

She huffs but complies. "I hate you!"

You look to the ceiling. Señor, dame paciencia. "Thank you for giving me the sword, Jackie," you say. "I'm very proud of you. May I give you a hug?"

"No! I hate you! I don't wanna be with you!"

"That's alright. I love you. Do you still want to go to the party?"

"No! You messed it all up!"

Matt presses a kiss to Mikey's head, having finished patching him up. "Jackie, please use kind words," Matt cuts in. "We can be angry, but we respect others even when we are angry, okay? They are still human."

Jackie ignores her father. "How come Mikey gets to have fun?"

"You can have fun if you want, sweetheart. You just can't have the sword today. Would you still like to come to the party?"

Your oldest daughter hesitates before sullenly nodding. Tension leaves you as you mutter a Thank you in your husband's direction, who tilts his head in a silent you're welcome.

"I'm very proud of you," Matt continues. "Now, can you tell Mikey you're sorry?"

"'M sorry, Mikey." It's a half-assed apology at best, but it's an apology nonetheless.

"Great job, sweetheart." Despite the encouragement--or maybe because of it--Jackie refuses to look at you. "Mikey?"

"I f'give you," he responds quietly.

Matt presses another kiss to the mop of his son's hair. "How late are we running?" He asks you.

"With or without cleaning this up?"

"Without."

"With this whole thing... about ten minutes."

"Okay. Jackie, please take Riley's gift to the car." At your look, he shrugs. "A little dirt never hurt anyone."

You lovingly roll your eyes and opt not to respond. "Can you grab Daisy? I'm bringing dessert."

"Yeah. Mikey, you mind following Jackie to load up?"

You stop your son on the way out, giving him a tight one-armed hug that he easily reciprocates, burying his head in your chest and causing you to wince slightly. Matt smirks and mouths Like father, like son. "I'm very proud of you and I love you," you make sure to tell Mikey, faux-glaring at your husband simultaneously. You're a parent; multitasking is your profession.

"L'k like Daddy," he sniffles into your shirt.

"Yes, you do," you agree. "The blood on the mask makes it look more authentic. But next time let's go with fake injuries if we want to look like Daddy, okay? I don't want you getting as many boo-boos as really looking like Daddy would take." Matt coughs to cover a laugh at you pointed tone.

"Mkay," Mikey agrees. You squeeze him tightly, which he reciprocates, before releasing him and letting him take off after his older sister.

You brush your pants with your free hand and stand, exhaustion reigning. "They've been like this all day?" Matt asks.

"Try longer. More like all week."

Matt makes a noise of sympathy. "I'm sorry I wasn't-"

"No. You've been at court all day, every day. It's not your fault."

"It's just, sometimes-"

"Matt."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I would not be married to a man who neglects his children. You have had an abnormally consuming case. If you regularly spent all week too busy for your children, I would have no qualms leaving. But you do not. This is an outlier."

"I still feel bad."

"I'm afraid you're actually not allowed to do that unless I approve."

"Oh?" His hand slides around your waist, other one coming to cradle Daisy's head. She coos at the contact.

"Yup. Had Foggy put it in the contract."

"Mm. I don't recall reading that."

Your own free hand comes up to the nape of his neck, working through the hair there. "We didn't put it in the braille version."

"I'm afraid that counts as fraud, Mrs. Murdock. I might have to sue you."

"That's okay." He hears the veiled laughter in your throat. "I know this really hot lawyer who can represent me."

"Sweetheart, if you say Foggy-"

"No, he's this blind guy, very sexy, very smart. You might have heard of him, Matt Murdock?"

Matt chuckles. "That might get a little confusing, representing two different sides. Pretty sure that might be called a conflict of interest."

"Huh. I guess you shouldn't sue me, then, if it's too confusing."

It's a full laugh, now. "Touché." Matt cocks his head suddenly, before dropping his head to your shoulder with a groan.

"Fighting again?" You ask knowingly.

His Yeah is muffled by your shirt. Like father, like son, indeed. He lifts his head. "You want to sit this one out? I can take them?"

You shake your head. "I need a break from elementary school speak. Some actual adult conversations." You pull away, and Matt lets you, taking Daisy and following you into the kitchen where you grab the cheesecake brownies you were asked to bring.

Matt's mouth and eyebrows quirk suggestively, voice lowering--not quite Devil-voice, more bedroom-level. "We could see if someone wants to have the kids over for a sleepover tonight. Have some... adult conversations of our own."

You grin back at him. "Renegotiate some terms of that marriage contract?"

"More like fulfill."

You laugh. "I could be amenable to such an idea," you agree. Your words cause Matt to speed up and you to laugh again, following him out. "What's got you in such a rush?"

"Easy." He gives you a peck as he locks the door from the townhouse to the garage. "Faster we get there, faster we can come back. I want a whole set of Avengers."

"That wasn't in the contract, dear."

"Maybe not in yours, but..." He winks. "It was in the braille one."

[pineapplehazard]

"Stalker." Huffed the young firefighter who just sat down next to Eddie with a teasing tone. The Instagram profile immediately got replaced by a dark screen. Eddie really liked Gaby, Grabielle Benfelled of her real name. She was one of the first of his station he befriended, realistically she was the only one of the team he would really consider to call a friend. She was younger, around the same age as Adriana or Albert, but she was constantly making references only a third of the team got, in a way that reminded him most of Chimney. But also just like Chimney (and everyone of his friends), she was drawn to gossip. Gaby always wanted to know all the details of his "dramatic hollywoodian life" and unfortunately for Eddie, she had seemed to find something juicy enough to harass him about it every shift since she heard him on a call with Hen last friday...

"I'm not stalking anyone." Eddie wouldn't call this stalking. So sure, he hadn't opened Instagram more than once a week since he's been in Texas, and in the last week he opened the app a little more often. Now he opens it almost every break they have (when he's not calling Chris, Buck or the 118), and he's often interrupted by the alarm, which is why it's almost always opened on the same page! He just doesn't have time to scroll away! Gaby doesn't look convinced by this explanation (which he already gave twice yesterday). Weirdly enough...

"Dude, ever since your friend told you about-" The alarm doesn't let her finish, and Eddie feels a little bad to be grateful it rang.

But maybe it's was wishful thinking to hope she would let it go that easily. As soon as they arrive back at the station, she glues herself to his side.

"Sooo? What were you doing, stalking him again this time?" She asked while they were putting down their turnouts.

"I'm not stalking him! I'm... checking on him..." Eddie began to move toward the kitchen, and if that's Gaby's least favorite place in the station, that's a coincidence...

"Yeah right of course..." She nods, following him anyway. "You're checking for proof, that's what you're doing!"

"Proof?" Eddie repeats, confused, but Gaby doesn't stop.

Instead she sits at the counter while he grabs two coffee cups. "Ever since your friend told you about it, you've been stalking the two of them to see if they're in contact."

The phone call she had surprised last friday? The one she thought finally meant some drama in his life? That might have been Hen telling him some suspicions of her concerning a 'recently' broken up couple... "I'm not!"

"You were checking Tom's profile yesterday."

"Tommy." He corrects coldly, while grabbing the pot, and shrugs. "He's a friend of mine too, that's all." She doesn’t need to know he hasn’t talked to that said friend in months.

Gaby raises an eyebrow, obviously sceptical, before she continues her interrogation. "And you check the following list of all your friends?"

"I misclicked."

"No you didn't."

Eddie sighs, and silently pours them coffee. No matter how much he might deny it, she wouldn't believe it any more. So what if Eddie checked from time to time Tommy's profile to see if he followed Buck again? And that Buck didn't do the same thing? That's not stalking, right? He just wants to make sure his best friend didn't do something stupid like getting back with an idiotic asshole who didn't realize how great Buck was. (What a great way to talk of a friend of his...)

"See! You're not even denying it anymore! Which is great because acceptance is the first step to forgiving."

"I don't think that's the saying."

"Anyway. You couldn't lie about it anyway, the frown that's been on your face ever since Hen told you, reappears 10 times stronger every time you open your phone! I think you'd be bad at poker..."

Eddie is great at poker actually. He's also usually very good at hiding his emotions, he's been doing it since he was ten thank you. Maybe that's not something he should be proud of to the point of bragging about it with Gaby... Or at all. Frank would call it repression and Father Brian would tell him to open up to free himself for the self-punishment, now Eddie's not sure he wants to add a Gen-Z analysis on top of all of that... Open up, Eddie, come on!

"I don't think it's a good idea." He finally confesses.

"The stalking?"

"No, Buck seeing Tommy again. That's not good."

"For who?"

"What?"

"You told me Tommy was Buck's first boyfriend right? So Buck was confortable discovering his sexuality with him (for some reason, the thought makes Eddie shudder), right? And Tommy was the one who ended it because he thought Buck shouldn't have only him as an experience. So if they talked about it and are good now, what's wrong with them getting back together? That means they overcame the problem, so all's good."

"All is not good. Tommy's... Tommy is... Tommy offered Lakers tickets to Buck for their 6-month anniversary! And- and- and he calls him Evan all the time!"

"O... Kayyyyy....??"

"Buck deserves..." Buck deserves someone who knows him, someone who understands him, someone who care about his likes and his dislikes and who would offer him something great, like the stars projector he saw online and talked about for weeks or a new pasta maker. He deserved someone who would listen to his random facts and who would want to learn more, just to be able to hear him talk longer. He deserves-

"better. Better than what Tommy will offer him. He hates basketball."

"Why does that seems to really matter to you.?"

"That Buck hates basketball? I mean… You didn't have to live the whole basketball drama thing with them..."

"Right. So spill. You know I love your Hollywood drama.”

[bluesey-182]

the vet today really tried to talk me into paying $600 for the same service they provided for my mom and her dog a few months ago for under $100

[valentinerose529]

Looking for advice on restorative bookbinding!

I recently learned about fanbinding and custom bookbinding, and I've decided it would be a super neat thing to learn how to do. Since i've never done anything like it before besides like, those little books we'd make in elementary school with folded printer paper and a staple gun, I'm looking for outside advice!

I got a very nice sci-fi book from my dad, but calling it well-loved is an understatement.

It's torn completely in half, but in my (limited) experience it's still salvageable. Like, as a book, it's still usable, i can and do read it i'm just careful with the outermost pages of each chunk.

I'd like to try my hand at rebinding this book, just as a beginner side project, since it's here and I already own it and nobody will read it except me, so who cares if the binding job is sloppy or crooked?

Each half is mostly solid, although the cover pieces and outer pages are only hanging on by threads.

The paper of the spine is pretty cracked, but the two cover pieces are in pretty good condition except for nicks and fraying around the edges.

the second chunk has a hole in the top page, but it only takes out like two words and i'm ninety percent sure i can extrapolate the blanks from the context if/when i patch that page.

It's about 860 pages long not counting the non-story ones like title pages, about the author, etc. I know there's a limit for how many pages certain binding styles can handle.

it's also printed on like, i don't know the name for it but it's that really thin yellowish paper that a ton of those old paperbacks are printed in (is pulp fiction the right word?)

Since it's a paperback, it doesn't have endpapers per se. Whatever cover I made and attached, would I need endpapers to glue to the inner cover? Would it be better to sacrifice the existing first and last pages to be endpapers (which i don't mind doing since the first has a story snippet and the last is blank), or better to glue dedicated endpapers to the text block at the same time I glue the two chunks together?

I don't really have a preference on hardback or paperback cover, I think hardbacks are easier for beginners to make?

I'd like to preserve the cover or at least the design of it somehow, so one of my ideas is to scan the cover and spine and print them out bigger onto a larger piece of paper if I decide to go with a hardback cover.

The second chunk has the paper of the spine on it (also hanging on by a thread). I'm not sure if I should scrape off the leftover spine paper/glue that's on the spines of the text blocks before I glue on a cover, or if it'll be fine to glue a fresh cover on top of it (after separating the graphic paper of the spine).

In terms of materials, I actually own a bottle of acid free archival quality book glue (I bought it ages ago in hopes of patching another book that tore in half from use), I have plenty of scrapbooking paper and cotton fabric left over from other projects, and I think my local makerspace has a dedicated bookbinding press!

It's a neat story, but the physical book itself has no sentimental value to me or my dad, so if I can't fix it I'll just buy a fresh copy and sacrifice this one as material for other paper crafts. I just thought it'd be a fun place to start learning how to bookbind, rather than trying to format and print and shape a fresh text block from scratch.

If you need more info about this project, please ask and I'm happy to share it. Any advice is appreciated, and thank you in advance!

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Part One + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ mdni, sexual content, dacryphilia, daddy kink. Reader is neurodivergent.

Simon Riley is a simple man. 

Now. 

Cobwebs cleared, shattered shards of glass painstakingly swept away, lacerations stitched and glued back together. He's climbed the mountain of his mind and descended down the other side. Hurdles jumped, skeletons dragged into the light and then cut down. 

Guess that's what happens when you finally decide you want to live, instead of exist. 

At least he figured it out before he died. 

He's old now, older, signature sore back and creaky knees worse then they were ten years ago, sciatica pain when it rains, headaches whenever he's spent too long looking at paperwork (should be wearing his glasses, but can only bring himself to do it at home.) He's even soft around the middle a bit. 

Still, there are some things that never change, some things that are amplified by time. Skill, focus, dedication. Thirst. 

The thirst is what keeps everyone in line, keeps everyone's head down after a salute, eyes shifty and hands clenched. He still strikes fear. He doesn't mind. 

It's how he got here. How he ended up standing in front of a team, his team, tackling a debrief. It's only given him more of what he know nows he craves, the aspect of control that was so long missing from his life, taken from him by others, by their actions, their decisions. Now he has it in spades. He learned to indulge it, practice it, hone it, and when it reared its head in other aspects of his life, he didn't shy away. He embraced it, experimented with it, figured out what he liked, what he didn't, what he truly needed. Chewed on it, for a while. 

A casual fuck here and there, fine, but not enough, not nearly. 

He's built a house after all. 

It's all spilled over though. Run away from him and out of the base, infiltrated his home, crawled across town- 

and set it's sights on something it can sink it's teeth into. Something it won't let go of. 

Daddy's girl. 

"C-captain Riley." Your hands press to your stomach, anxiously wiping away smatterings of batter and flour, and he tries to screw his mouth into a flat line to hide his smile at the hitch in your breath. 

"Hi sweetheart." 

"What can I... what can I get for you?" He sweeps over the case, eyeing the piled high pastries and bagels, muffins and quiches still warm. 

"Just a coffee today." You nod, lip tugged between your teeth, hand practically shaking as you reach for the stack of cups. When he was a younger man, he wouldn't have patience for this, or you. Wouldn't see the bright side to this, these moments he shares with his girl at the bakery, his nervous little fawn he's finally coaxed to look him in the eye for more than ten seconds at a time. Being in your forties will do that to you, he guesses. 

Time heals more than he ever thought possible. 

"Black?" 

"That's right." He indulges himself as you turn around, tracing your curves, the swell of your ass in your leggings. You wear an apron at your waist religiously, cinching it tight, hips and thighs and everything else perfectly framed. He loves those leggings, and hates them every time he catches an overzealous prick leering at you over the counter. 

"Do you um, do you want room for cream?"  The answer is always the same, but you still ask, and he doesn't mind. 

"No, I'll just take it as is." He eyes the pan of raspberry sweet rolls sitting on the counter, cream cheese icing slowly melting across the top. They're his favorite, but he's putting on too much weight, and with the next mission around the corner, he can't afford to be too soft. You look up at him shyly, gesturing to the giant buns. 

"I made your favorite." Fuck. He can't. He shouldn't... but he can't stomach the idea of dimming your glow, killing you excitement, the eager look on your face as you wait for his approval. 

"Y'know what... the boys are always complaining I never bring them anything. I'll take the whole pan." Your eyes turn to saucers. 

"The wh-whole pan? Really?" You brighten into a sun, glowing with pride, and he rewards you with a smile. 

"Is that okay?" 

"Of course!" You blurt, half panicked, "of course I just... okay. Let me-" You go to put the coffee cup down in front of him, but the bottom nicks the edge of the counter and like everything has turned to slow motion, he watches as steaming hot liquid comes flying from the top, half splashing, half spilling all over his uniform. He catches it before it rolls off the end, but the damage has been done, and tears line your lashes. 

The woman waiting in line a few feet behind him snorts. His vision turns red and he whirls on her with a glare, satisfied when the color drains from her face and she runs off. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so s-so-sorry,” you’ve come around the corner with paper towels, trembling like a leaf as you stare at the stain on his jacket, wide eyed and frantic. 

“It’s okay, it was an accident.” 

“N-no, your uniform,” you croak horrified, “I ruined it, I’m so sorry.” You hiccup a little, trying to suck in some air while you succumb to panic, and he takes your hands in his, squeezing gently, trying to ground you. 

“It’s alright baby, it’s okay,” you don’t even notice when he calls you baby, too preoccupied by your rapidly dissipating oxygen. “Hey, look at me,” he soothes, ducking into your line of sight, grabbing your attention. “Good girl, you’re alright.” 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, shrinking in on yourself, curling your shoulders forward. More tears, and the sight of them sends blood rushing through his body, uncomfortable pressure starting to build in his cock. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” The shop is mostly empty, the woman behind him gone, and he takes the opportunity to usher you past the counter and into the kitchen where there’s a stool waiting just inside the door. He guides you up and holds steady. “Everything’s okay, I promise.” The paper towels come free from your tension filled grip, and instead of using them on the stain, he presses them to your wet cheeks, blotting away your tears. You lean into the touch, so trusting, so easily his, and he wonders what else you’d let him do. He’s hard against the teeth of his zipper as he thinks about hoisting you onto the table, spreading your legs to find what you’ve been keeping safe for him there. 

He doesn’t have many things to care for these days, outside the team, his ultimate responsibility. Keeping a special ops unit alive, planning and executing, cutting through political bullshit is more than enough, but it’s all rough and heavy handed. 

He needs something to nurture. 

You blink at him as he finishes and tips your chin back, ignoring the way your lips part in awe. “That’s better.” 

“Thank you.” The two of you breathe in tandem, silenced and walking a tightrope until you cough. “I should uh… I should go, get those rolls packaged?” He nods, and you manage a very small smile before dipping your gaze to the ground and running off to the front. 

“When did you know?” He rolls the cigar smoke around in his mouth and John cocks his head. 

“When did I know what?” 

“That you were ready,” he gestures to the house, where John’s wife Grace sleeps soundly, “for this? For her?” There’s a glint in his Captain’s blue eyes, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“I just did. At some point, life becomes more than the job, but the mission stays the same. Lead, decide, control. Keep them safe, complete your objective, give what’s needed, get it for yourself. It’s no different.” The idea is tar, sticking to every surface in his mind, gumming up his synapses and creating hallucinations so intoxicating they’re hard to believe. 

You, curled up in bed asleep with nothing but a pair of panties, or cradled between his knees in the bath as he works a chunk of batter free from your hair. You with your legs spread, knees pushed towards your ears, pussy ripe and waiting for him, only him, for the rest of his life. Hands and ankles tied together like a pretty little present. You, sitting on the couch with your thighs slung over his lap, nose creased with a little wrinkle as you thumb through a book. 

John chuckles. “Found one then?” 

Simon only nods. 

He slips through the door just before closing, little bell at the top announcing his arrival to an almost empty space. There’s someone at the register, counting cash, and she smiles at him with all her teeth. 

“We’re about to close but there are a few things left, or I could make you a tea?” The case is pretty barren, a few bear claws and croissants, a muffin or two. Stragglers. 

Next to it, a bouquet sits in a vase. They’re fresh, healthy, and the hair on the back of his neck stands. 

If someone is buying you flowers, he’ll kill them. Dump their corpse in a pit and piss on it. 

The girl clears her throat, and he shakes his head. “No, but thanks. ‘M here to see…” you push through the kitchen doors with two metal sheet trays in your hands, and freeze.

He knew you’d be surprised, caught off guard. It’s like catching a feral cat. Trying to earn a street dog’s trust. Like he’s crouched on the sidewalk, hand extended, food waiting in his fingertips. 

A fisherman, with bait on the line, patiently waiting to hook his prize. 

The incident last week has thoroughly spooked you, pushed you back inside your shell, eroded a lot of the groundwork he painstakingly laid, the foundation he’s been building, and the only time he’s been in since then, you ran into the kitchen as soon as he crossed the threshold. 

The clock has turned back to the time when you were so gun shy, you’d turn to stone at the first sight of him, hands clasped together so tight he knew they hurt. 

It’s no matter. He’s a patient man now, a far cry from who he used to be, and he’s willing to wait for the things worth it, willing to put in the work to fix it.

His body disagrees. A river of need runs consistently runs through him, wild and turbulent current thrashing in his blood, white water rapids trying to flood his lungs. His cock is heavy at night as he imagines you bent over the butcher’s block, leggings ripped open, gooseflesh cascading from the small of your back down, empty little hole clenching on nothing, begging for a fullness only he can give. He dreams about your tears, salty sweet drops soaking your cheeks as the crown of his cock bulges in your throat, as he takes your air and gives it back, over and over again. 

Ruin you, rearrange you, remold you until you only ever fit him. 

He’ll give you what you need, he’ll take away what you don’t. 

He’ll decide. 

The girl at the counter looks at you, then him, small smile pulling on her lips. “I’m going to get this deposit ready,” she announces to no one since you’re not paying her any attention, barely registering she’s disappeared as you stare at him. 

“Hi… u-um hi, Captain Riley.” You put the pans down onto the counter but miscalculate the distance, and they clatter with a resounding smack, one that makes you wince. Your chest expands with a long, deep breath, and you look away from him to the floor. “Can I get you something?” 

“No, I’m jus’ here to see you.” You jerk, gaze snapping from the floor to his face. 

“Is th-this about your uniform? Did you get it dry-cleaned? I can pay you back for-” You rush out, half panicked and cut off when his hand fits to the space between your shoulder blades with just enough pressure to move you forward. He leads, steering you to one of the little tables by the window, urging you down into the chair before taking his place on the other side. 

“You’re not paying my bloody dry cleaning bill. I’m here to see you, sweetheart.” You’re vibrating, practically rattling in your skin and he wants so badly to soothe you, tuck you into his chest and push the outside world away, but it would be too much, too soon. You’re not ready. 

“See me?” He nods. 

“Why did you run from me the other day?” 

“I didn’t I was just… I was busy.” He didn't expect the truth, not right away. You're always trying to hide your vulnerable spots. 

“Try again. No lying this time.” There’s about one eighth of his usual authority in his voice, the captain’s edge he’s honed over the years, and your lips part with a sharp, small intake of breath. 

“I thought maybe… I thought you might be upset or something and I didn’t want…” you trail off with a shrug, and he’s not surprised. He knows his reassurances from last week weren’t enough. His sweet girl is afraid of her own shadow, you need more than just a few words and your tears wiped. 

“I’m not upset.” He leans back against the rickety wood. There are a million things he could say, do. A million different pieces he could pick apart right here, right now, peel your layers back and put you on your knees with your cheek on his thigh, his hand patting the top of your head. 

“Daddy’s not mad, sweetheart.” 

You’re watching him, waiting, looking for him to give more, heal this wound, but he’s cautious. A gas pedal to the floor will only get him the kind of chase he doesn’t want. Not yet. “You understand me?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. You’re hesitating on something, holding back, but he doesn’t try to drag it out, choosing to wait, to give you the time you need, the space he knows the rest of the world doesn’t allow. “Did um… did they like them?” He cocks his head. 

“The team?” 

“Mhm,” your leg bounces under the table. You’re so fucking cute he could smother you. 

“Yeah baby, they loved them.” You beam, blooming into a pretty, perfect flower, vibrant and colorful, rare as they come. 

“That’s good, I’m so happy.” You wiggle a little bit in the chair, and he bites the inside of his cheek. Fucking hell. He wants you on his lap instead, wiggling around as he slowly sinks you down onto his cock, fingernails biting into his chest as he stretches your pussy, toes curling as you struggle to take him. “D-do you want to take some home?” 

“You have some left over?” You shrug sheepishly. 

“I’ve uh, been making them every day. I thought if you were mad at me, maybe they would… make it better.” Oh baby.

“No. You never have to appease me like that. You never have to appease anyone like that, sweetheart.” 

“Right. Okay.” You look relieved, a little bit of heaviness lifted from your shoulders, and then you give him a small smile. “But do you want to maybe have one… now? W-with me?” His sweet little fawn, navigating the world on new trembling legs, taking chances when she feels brave. 

He pulls your hand into his and strokes his thumb back and forth across your knuckles, setting up a slow, soothing rhythm. “Of course.” 

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.�� Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s��perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

big sister - hyun ju

summary; a big sister will always protect, but when will she be able to relax?

genre/extra tags; one shot, found family, fluff, hurt/comfort?, canon typical violence, i dont like the second season writing, but i can not deny myself this diva, that's mother !!, teen! reader, hyun ju is the only reason i decided to watch this season, slight canon divergence bc i have the mind of a goldfish, canon typical sad heavy conversations, big sister is written to be seen as the korean honorific "unnie", older sister moments written in the point of view of a younger sibling, unintentional love letter for my appreciation to my sister, reader is implied to be some form of lgbt but not out (im projecting)

[platonic] [gender-neutral reader]

[warning; mentions of transphobic ideas]

a/n; before people ask, no, im not doing requests for this show. i just don't feel fully comfortable writing for squid game. i just really wanted to write this because, believe it or not, i write for my enjoyment. even i do switch off here every few months or every other month.

dinner had rolled around after an intense "game" of life or death. how you managed to survive this long is beyond you. but you might have a strong idea of why you're living so long, and it was the strong woman who was sitting beside you with some of the other women who were surviving so far.

the old lady had pointed out that hyun ju was not like other people. and it really was odd to her. but hyun ju was used to that. more than used to it. she lived through it since she decided to come out.

you listen to the conversation, not really putting your two cents in as it seemed like there was no right time to butt in. but as the conversation continued, the mood was just a little lighter. and that was more than enough morale. the old lady seemed to slowly understand hyun ju and her struggle.

you've zoned out so much, you almost fail to notice hyun ju sneaking an egg onto your shabby given lunch box meal. you look up at her as she gives you a warm look before pretending that she didn't just do that.

you mix the rice with not much thought, spilling some bits of rice and egg over its metal container before you slowly eat. unbeknownst to you, hyun ju glances back at you as if to make sure you're actually eating and not staring off with a tired look that no teen or child should have. you've seen everything, you're part of this sick game, she may not know your story, but she knows you don't deserve any of the bad you've been through.

you're the youngest in the entire room, a room filled with people with insurmountable debt and issues. hyun ju can only imagine your worry, your anxiety, the burden.

when the first game got serious, you were trying your damned hardest to keep your fear contained under the watchful eye of that robot scanning every movement. she was right in front of you, keeping you safe along with the rest of the people who lined up with her. you look like you wanted to cry the moment you got to the finish line. if she wasn't full of adrenaline at the time, she probably would've heard how hard your heart was beating.

somehow, she had taken two people under her care. you and young-mi. how could she not care about a young woman like young-mi and a teen like yourself? two anxious people forced to live a life full of debt and pain when you both deserved nothing but comfort and love.

people start lining up in their beds for nighttime. gi-hun was very insistent on being careful at night. it was dangerous. some people were not behind just killing others at night to sweeten the pot of money that loomed over everyone's head like a golden sun.

as most of the adults started to climb in their beds, you stand awkwardly. you weren't a stranger to sleeping a room full of people, but you were definitely a little paranoid after what gi-hun was talking about.

you find yourself naturally gravitating to hyun ju. her presence was just so calming, and she was so caring for others. it was hard not to get attached. young-mi had taken to calling her big sister. and you found yourself doing the same when you call out to her softly.

"big sister?" you gently tap at her arm as she turns to look at you. she silently urges you to continue speaking with a gentle look. you can see the tired in her eyes, but she looks at you, unwilling to say no. "this is embarrassing..." you mutter.

"it's okay. i'm here." she reassures you.

"can i stay with you tonight? i'm-" you choke a little bit on your words, not only out of embarrassment but fear. "i'm really scared. i don't wanna be alone." you confess.

she softens, "i would love to let you, but it's too risky. if people come for us, it would be very hard to fight back. i'm so sorry, kid." she opens her arm out for a hug, and you take the comfort you can get in this shitty place. "i will do my best to keep you safe, alright? when we get out of here, i'm going to find you again, and we can help each other, yeah? i'll protect you."

you nodded with her words, not finding the heart to say anything. she takes this as a sign to start guiding you into your bunk bed on top. at least the top bunks would be somewhat safer for you. you hesitantly climb into bed. "if a fight breaks out, hide. run. just be safe. i will find you, and you'll be safe." she continues to reassure you the best she can.

"okay. goodnight big sister." you whispered. "please be safe."

"i will." she said with a calm confidence that only she could pull off that didn't make you feel worried for her.

you hope that you get out of here, so you don't have to see the worried exhaustion in her eyes anymore.

she was a big sister by heart and soul. you just hoped her big heart wouldn't lead her to her doom. she protects and gives, but when will she relax?

[lilianalovespink]

Your lungs burn.

Your skin does too.

Sweat soaked clothes cling to your skin, cotton made heavy by the sheer amount of it that you've let off in the last hour of training.

But most importantly, there's a lump in your throat that aches worse than any cough ever could've- feeling like that time you had tonsillitis as a child.

"'ny more wisdom or are you done, private?"

If you cry now, he'll be kind; understanding. He always is, but that's the problem.

"I'm done captain."

~

'Unable to follow orders without questions, unable to integrate into the team.'

Sincerely and with your entire heart, you wish only the worst upon John Price. You could follow orders, you could work with them- if they let you.

A discomfort of needle like nature pulls through your muscles at that thought, considering that you had in fact voiced it and that the consequence had been the training you usually do over the course of three hours having to get done within an hour, no breaks, no warmups.

The worst part, you thought as you stepped out of the showers, is that in his view, he didn't hate you but rather...think you incompetent; a cocky amateur with too much of their chest puffed out.

You, a little child, a toddler acting rebellious or throwing a tantrum, and him, the sensible adult, strict but 'caring'.

"Shh, I know. This is too much for you. I know."

Leave it to him to make comfort a painful act; one for you to be belittled during, made out to be just another stupid teen in over their head.

Yes, you were younger than your commander, your captain, but no younger than your lieutenant or seargant.

Just not at their rank.

Your transfer to the 141 was abrupt, but by no means unwelcome. You were the best in your recruitment class, you were capable but as price, at the time you thought jokingly, put it, you weren't 'broken in'.

And boy did he have every intention of breaking you.

Training was tough, but doable except-

"You were top of your class? Again."

"There's a reason you're still a private."

"If you can't manage, leave."

And then, whenever you snap at him, show teeth at the hand that constantly strikes you, he's a saint. He's really just putting you what everyone else is going through, why are you this upset? Clearly because you're immature.

If you can hold back your urge to bite bite bite- this man, if you try to ask him stuff it's really a coin flip of what version of Captain John Price you'll get.

"You can't handle it? That's okay. It's okay, hey- no crying. Come here...yeah, that's a good girl."

Or, in case you didn't crawl between his legs like a scared puppy-

"I'm only being hard on you because I thought you wanted to be better. Was I wrong about that? Or do you want to be something other than a private one day?"

The worst part is that, the team seems to see you as a puppy as well- with you literally getting that as a monicker.

Lt. Riley wasn't as cold and mysterious as you expected when you first saw the mask, but he certainly wasn't hellbent on letting you be his buddy, let alone his comrade. He never helped you out unless you asked, but, should you make that mistake, to ask for help, he'll nod and simply guide you aside like you're a sheep and he's your shepherd. Like teaching you wasn't literally his job.

Sgt. MacTavish as well as Sgt. Garrick had initially been warm and inviting, had made you feel like this was your team- until you noticed how they'd leave you out whenever they could. Sure, neither of them were rude but- they weren't proper teammates either.

And then, of course, Captain Price.

What should you say about this man? How horrible he is? Would that do what he's put you through any justice?

As if this alienation from the people you literally had to trust with your life wasn't bad enough, the way they seemed to pity you was worse. Like you were a small child who dropped your candy.

It hurt, badly.

So when Commander Philipp Graves joined for a mission in Los Alamos and was the only one who treated you like you were on one level?

Yeah, you took the bait.

[blondeaxolotl]

Finally dropping a ref sheet for my yuusona, say hi to Yuu/Ebi

undercut if you want to hear me yap about her a bit

Yuu, or Ebi is a giant monster shrimp (non-magic user). Where she came from or what her homeland is currently unknown. But it's safe to assume she comes from a place populated by mostly sea monsters like her.

Despite being a monster (maybe similar to Grim?), Ebi seems to have a more calming and sensible personality when compared to Grim, only reacting strongly when something seriously bad is going to happen (ex: someone almost fucking dying) or when she's over-exaggerating to just get a reaction out of someone. Surprisingly, when she arrived to NRC, she had a more irritated reaction knowing full well she was somewhere she didn't belong, and complained under her breath about "missing work and getting family worried for nothing". In other words she seemed to have known she wasn't in any true danger when she arrived, thankfully. Ebi also appears to be naturally caring for others, immediately taking in with living with Grim at Ramschackle (and eventually becoming his caretaker basically), and helping Ace and Deuce out with whatever issues they're having without hesitation (issues being either preventing them from almost being expelled or just help with simple homework). This soon enough became an on-going thing with majority of the students, and according to Ebi it's because;

"I grew up in a large family and have always taken care of my younger siblings. It's in my duty to help and take care of those who need a hand to come pick them up from the ground, even if they didn't ask for it."

It didn't help that Ebi was already older than most students there, being closer to Leona's age, she started to view and treat a lot of students as if they were her younger siblings. And like it was meant to be, this quickly made her earned the title of "Big Sis Ebi". Making it known that she was someone who the students could trust and come to for both help and comfort. This meant there were a lot of visits at Ramschackle, (especially from the ones who overblotted GULPS) but fortunately, this just made Ebi feel more at home as it reminded her of her actual siblings back at her homeland, so she doesn't mind these visits (Grim on the other hand not so much).

Also yes, just like any older sibling, this does mean Ebi started to mess and tease the ones she viewed as younger siblings a lot. It ain't a true sibling bond without at least a wee bit of sibling rivalry 👌 (Rip Ace he's the most common victim to this).

ANYWAY, okay enough yapping, when I first created Ebi she was just a silly gag I made when I first got into twst.

But when I actually started to put effort into her I at first didn't know what to do since most yuusonas I know of were shipped with other characters. But I didn't want Ebi to have anything romantic with any character, I decided what better way than to basically make her the older sister figure everyone comes to when they need help? I thought it's both funny that characters are looking for comfort from a literal giant fucking shrimp, but also twst characters genuine just seem to lack a lot of comfort because Jesus fucking Christ all of you need therapy and a hug, no matter if it's by a shrimp or not 😭.

Okay yeah, that's it for Ebi if anyone has any questions about her or her dynamics with other characters, feel free to send an ask in my inbox 🦐.

[envy-of-the-apple]

older reader?? SAY NO MORE

you're a confident, popular, charismatic lady in your 30s. you catch a pretty, barely-not-teenage gojo at a bar about to get roofied and rescue him.

you're neither a paragon of moral virtues but apparently you do still have some maternal instincts because you take him aside, help him sober up, and give him a stern but well-meaning lecture about watching drinks, staying safe, etc. maybe he gets a headpat and a caring look while you do this.

that's where you thought this would end but to gojo had absent parents and is starved of all forms of affection, including maternal, so he absolutely cannot let this end here and he will exploit his prettiness, his pitifulness, AND your maternal instincts to the max.

if wires get crossed and he manages to get you to bang him (and hopefully feel so guilty about taking advantage that he can get you to stay with him) then even better!!

omgggggyou know me so well-

(Warnings: manipulation, guilt-tripping, large age gap but both characters are 21+, implied non/dubcon, implied drugging)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Bad Night

When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.

Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.

He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.

You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.

"You wake up pretty early."

It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.

You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.

"...Satoru?"

"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.

It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-

Shit.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.

"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"

When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.

"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."

Baby. You want to throw up.

"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."

Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.

What the fuck did you just do?

You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.

You fucked up.

Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.

Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.

He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.

You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.

And then, you ended up sleeping with him.

It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.

You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.

You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.

You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.

Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.

"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.

You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.

"Satoru, we need to talk-"

"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.

When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.

"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"

You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.

He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.

"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."

You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"

"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"

"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"

He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.

You were a horrible person.

"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.

He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.

Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.

But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.

He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.

Not him. Anyone but him.

"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"

"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"

He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."

That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?

But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.

"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"

He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.

You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.

"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."

His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.

"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."

You pat his back, still in a daze.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

He'll snap out of it eventually, right?

[hhughes]

𐔌 　 ⁺　 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333

you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.

the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.

"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.

"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.

"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333

[owuwi]

ALTERNATE WORLD

POWDER.ᐟ

summary: in the midst of perfection, your responsibilities still nag at the back of your mind.

pairings: au!powder x ogtimeline!reader

warnings: a bit of angst, fluff, not really a warning but fem!reader, reader is in ekko's position, mentions of jinx x fem!reader.

2.8k words

Perhaps, being selfish wasn't as bad as people said.

Maybe, just for once, putting yourself first wasn't going to cause the end of the world.

Those are the words that have been constantly running through your mind for these past few days, these days you've spent with Powder.

This wasn't your Powder, though, you were pretty aware of that —the universe didn't like you enough to allow you be that happy—, yet that didn't stop you from enjoying everything. You deserved it, right? You deserved to experience this level of contentment, of peace, at least once in your life.

Honestly, you were still a bit confused about your relationship with the blue-haired girl. There was a thick, tangible tension between the two of you but she hasn't actually initiated anything romantic —except for clinging onto you, if that counts—. She was quite flirty, that was sure, and it ignited something deep inside you whenever she behaved in that manner. Knowing that this is what you could've had... it brought you such sadness and even envy.

Despite everything, there was still a small part of you that knew this was wrong; a responsible voice reminding you of your true fate. You weren't meant to be here —let alone stay here— and that righteous side of you wanted to leave it very clear.

Goodness, the only thing you wanted was to know what the hell was wrong with your tree.

And now? Now you had to leave paradise to go back to hell.

Apparently, it was usual for you —this universe's version of yourself— to sleep over at Powder's place, so you've been doing that for these past few days. Seeing Vander and Silco so... together was definitely something you weren't going to get used to, but they were truly so loving that it made you forget they were once enemies.

You woke up earlier than the younger girl and headed down to her hideout —workplace— in a miserable attempt of isolating yourself for a bit and simply think, think about how to build something that could take you home. You actually already knew what to do but you were trying to slow down the process of building it as much as possible, also trying to keep Heimerdinger out of this for as long as you could —since it would take the professor like, a day to find a way of creating such a device—.

You were so deep in your own little world, carefully drawing the hextech anomaly that brought you here while enjoying the comfort the big space provided, that you weren't aware of Powder coming down to where you were until you felt a pair of soft arms wrapping around your neck —the sudden contact immediately causing you to flinch. "Morning, jumpy." She playfully greeted you, adding more emphasis on the nickname after observing your reaction, a little chuckle then slipping past her lips in amusement.

"Hey there, i uh—... didn't hear you." You greeted her as well —and vaguely explained the reason for your sharp movement— before also letting out a chuckle, though it clearly sounded less natural than the girl's. Even with the butterflies that fluttered on your stomach each time Powder was near you, you still couldn't help but to initially freak out whenever you laid your eyes on her.

"Oh yeah, i totally realized that." She quickly said, her voice dripping with an affectionate sarcasm, as she slowly ran her fingers through your hair. Her tender action quickly sent a shiver down your spine, unconsciously leaning into the warmth of her touch. "Wow... that's a cool drawing." She broke the silence some moments later, moving her fingers away from your hair to delicately trace her fingertips along the messy lines of the drawing —a faint 'thank you' leaving your lips at her compliment.

"You woke up earlier just to draw, huh? You sure are a real mystery." She later commented in that same playful tone of voice, gently resting her chin on the top of your head as her eyes continued scanning over the drawing. You were about to say something until the sound of a soft yawn coming from the girl interrupted you.

You could tell she was still sleepy by the slight slurring in her words and by the way she was basically slumped against your back. It brought a genuine smile to your face, a faint blush spreading across the skin of your cheeks as you noticed how intimate this moment felt. "I wasn't tired anymore so i came down here, wanted to—... clear my mind a bit." You told her, closing your eyes at the feeling of her fingertips slowly sliding up your arms —goosebumps erupting all over your skin—. "Why don't you go back to bed? You seem tired.." You then added before opening your eyes, not even noticing the domesticity in your words.

Powder did notice, though.

She let out a humming sound —clearly thinking about your suggestion— while her digits continued roaming along your smooth skin. "Mhm... only if you come back with me." She replied some moments later, her voice a low whisper tickling your ear. The blue-eyed girl knew you perfectly, knew what made you react, what you liked and what you didn't, and she knew how to use that piece of information to her advantage.

Oh yeah, you two were definitely dating.

It was kinda obvious but you were just... hoping you two were really good friends. You truly got everything you once wanted in this universe —the realization of how good your life was here brought you so many mixed feelings. How wrong would it be to stay here? For starters, how wrong was it to think like this? You had your own stuff to do back at home —especially now when things were so tense—, you couldn't abandon your people and stay, right?

No... you couldn't abandon Jinx, she was your Powder, despite everything. Despite all the crimes she's committed, all the horrors she's made, she was still your best friend and the girl you fell in love with. This... this wasn't real, it was just a 'what if', you needed to go back and make things right —even if it wasn't your job to fix everything, you still needed to try—.

The girl behind you snapped her fingers in front of your face, causing you to stop daydreaming and come back to reality. "Hey, space girl! I'm not talking to myself over here." She told you, her tone humorous yet honest, clearly not enjoying the way you were ignoring her.

"Sorry! I uh...—was just thinking." You quickly apologized, letting out a sigh before rubbing your face —unconsciously staining your cheek with the dark ink you had on your hands thanks to the messy drawing you were previously working on—. Powder moved away from your back and instead sat down on the other stool, looking at you with both affection and worry. "Yeah, seems like you've been doing that a lot these days.." She mumbled, discretely pointing out your odd behavior of the past few days.

She then gently reached out to wipe away the pigment from your skin, her touch lingering on your cheek for way longer than needed. "What's on your mind?" The girl asked you quietly, cupping your cheek and holding the side of your face with such delicacy it almost brought you to tears. Whenever she held you, she always did it as if you were made of glass —scared of breaking you.

"I want to build something new. For the competition." You revealed some moments later, looking at her with uncertainty as you feel her touch faltering after hearing what you said. According to Heimerdinger, you sought Powder's help a couple of months ago for the Young Innovators Competition and she gladly decided to assist you, and the two of you have been working like crazy ever since.

And now, you had the blue-haired girl looking at you as if you were crazy. Could you blame her? Probably not. Apparently, Powder had been by your side —working— 24/7 on the project, so the fact that you were telling her you wanted to do a whole new different thing was mind-blowing for her. "Wait, what? Why?" She immediately questioned you, moving her hand away from your cheek as a frown formed on her lips.

"I uh—... it's not entirely new. We can use what we already have built." You hesitantly began explaining, your eyes looking everywhere expect at the girl in front of you. How were you supposed to tell her you wanted to travel to another dimension? She'd definitely call you crazy. "I've been doing some research and i—." You continued, flipping the pages of your sketchbook to show her the ruins and maths, though it didn't take Powder long before she cut you off.

"Hold on, we've been working on this for months, and now you want to change it? We don't have much time anymore." She complained, her tone growing frustrated and even mad —despite the change in her voice not being entirely hearable, you noticed it—. She let out a faint scoff and looked away from you, taking a deep breath before continuing. "You were so excited with this project... what changed?" She then asked you in a much softer tone of voice, giving you a look of concern.

You stayed quiet for some moments, feeling yourself getting lost in those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. Not only were you playing with yourself but you were also playing with her, creating memories this universe's version of yourself won't remember once you go back to your own world. "I uh—..." You started your sentence yet couldn't finish it, looking at her with such affection and love —though it wasn't actually the right moment to drool over her—.

"I think i found a way to travel to other dimensions." You simply stated, not even noticing how blunt your words came out thanks to how distracted you were —captivated by her beauty. You then managed to snap yourself out of the trace she induced you in, a silly and almost dumb smile slowly forming on your lips as you looked at her. "I think it's worth giving it a try..." You added, sliding your sketchbook across the surface and allowing the girl to take a look at the process you've done.

It was now her time to stay quiet, looking at you with disbelief. Silence reigned on the space; the faint whirring of the colorful lightbulbs and your breathings being the only sounds listenable. She took your book in her hands and started analyzing its content, her eyebrows lightly furrowing as she did so. "How do you just—... find a way to do that?" She asked you, her voice now playful and humorous once again. The frown and concern on her face was now replaced with a look of amazedness.

"You know me, i'm a genius." You said in reply to her question before laughing and then bitting down on your bottom lip, no longer feeling the need of hiding your true personality. It definitely wasn't good to be getting so comfortable but, right now, you truly didn't care.

Powder simply let out a little laugh at your comment, a bright smile forming on her lips as she looked up from the sketchbook and back at you again. "I'm not sure about the genius part but i'll admit, it's pretty amazing..." She opined before standing up from the stool and taking a step closer to you, cupping your face with both hands. "Do you seriously think it'll work, though?" She unsurely queried, wanting to know if you were actually serious about this whole thing.

Powder knew you weren't the type to joke about this type of stuff but come on, finding a way of traveling to other dimensions? No one has ever made such discovery yet, so how on earth did you managed to find this? Was this the reason you've been acting so different? Many questions started bubbling inside of her, questions she felt weird thinking about. What was going on with her? Was she... distrusting you? She couldn't be! She's known you her entire life! You were her girl and you were smart, she should be feeling proud you made such a discovery!

Your voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she couldn't help but to feel relieved, not wanting to think like that of you. "Yeah, i do. I already consulted a friend about this and he thinks it's possible." You answered, placing your hand on top of hers —keeping her palm pressed against your cheek— and then leaning into her touch. The feeling of your skin against hers brought peace to her head, those conceptualizations fading away immediately.

"What do you think about it?" You then asked the younger girl while slowly —almost nervously— rising your other hand and gently placing it on her hip. Powder barely reacted to your touch, meaning that she was used to you doing this —more proof of the two of you being a couple. "Well it's definitely amazing but i think it's dumb to start with it now, because it will definitely not be ready for the competition." She stated. Despite how serious she sounded, a small grin started to appear on her face.

"But you are quite dumb so i'm not entirely surprised." She quickly added, letting out a little laugh before suddenly sitting down on your lap. The girl wrapped her arms around your neck and softly started playing with the baby hairs on your nape, twirling them between her fingers. "Which is why i suppose i could help you..." She completed, her voice tender yet teasing, as she gets more comfortable on your lap.

"How nice of you." You said, playing along with her little game before placing both of your hands on her hips —with a little bit more of confidence this time—, looking at her like she just hung the moon and stars. She noticed your staring and gently pushed your shoulder in a miserable attempt of hiding how flustered you were making her feel without even doing anything. "Whatever..." She mumbled, placing one of her hands on the base of your neck and then delicately caressing the skin over your pulse point.

"Now, let's go back to my room." With that —quite suddenly— said, Powder got off your lap and grabbed your hands, making you stand up and guiding you towards the bridge that lead to the stairs —not really giving you a choice. You simply threw your sketchbook across the cluttered, circular surface —accidentally throwing a blueprint onto the floor in consequence— and followed her. "We'll talk about it in bed, yeah?" She exclaimed.

You two walked up the stairs and headed towards the girl's room quietly, not wanting to make too much noise and accidentally wake up her dads. She immediately closed the door the moment you two entered the room and then rushed to her comfortable bed, a chuckle leaving your lips at the sight of Powder basically burying herself beneath the blankets. "What are you waiting for, you doofus?" A faint, muffled voice asked you, her tone sounding almost offended thanks to how long you were taking to lay beside her.

"Can't i admire the view anymore?" You asked her back before laughing softly and then walking over to the bed, taking your shoes off before finally lying down on the mattress. It didn't take the girl long before she basically jumped on top of you, hiding her face in the warmness of the crook of your neck and wrapping her arms around your torso. "Mhm..." She simply hummed, snuggling against your tender skin.

It was obvious that you two weren't going to talk about your new project but that didn't matter right now, all that mattered was the feeling of her small body on top of yours. You nuzzled against the top of her head, taking in the scent of her blue hair, as you slid your hands under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her back. "Sleep..." You mumbled, enjoying every single second of this moment.

You didn't need to tell Powder twice, especially not when she was so tired and was lying on top of you. "I love you..." She muttered out some seconds later, moving her head away from your neck. She placed her hands on your cheeks and merely stared at you for a moment, smiling once again as she admired you. She then leaned down to place a slow, delicate kiss on your lips, her fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your skin.

Gods.

It took you some time to kiss her back —a good second or two—, your body freezing with the suddenness of her words and movements. Despite your initial shock, fireworks exploded inside of you the moment you processed what was happening, causing you to smile against her lips as you closed your eyes and finally kissed her back. "Love you too... so much.." You said the moment the kiss broke, keeping your eyes closed before chuckling.

In this moment, you belonged here.

Right now, you had all you ever wanted.

So, was it so inhumane to be selfish?

[creamecafe]

Hello! First of all I want to tell you that I love your writings ❤️ Second, I wanted to ask you if you can't place an order for Hyun-ju. I love that woman. I would like an Angst, I'll leave it to your imagination. thank you ✨✨✨✨

You're The Only Exception

Summary: Between wanting to be accepted and saving a life, Hyun-Ju takes comfort and finds hope in you as the only exception.

Pairing: Hyun-Ju x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: angst, mentions of transphobia, transphobic, guilt, the death of Young-Mi, she deserved better 😭😭

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy it! I didn't know whether to put for angst that people were looking at her weird bc she's trans or her feelings guilty for not saving Young-Mi in time, so I used both

Guys please understand that writing this, I'm a cis woman, AFAB, please do let me know if there's things to change up as I want to get trans representation right.

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

If being in the games was hard for anyone, it would be for Hyun-Ju. Looking for acceptance in a place where you're fighting for your life isn't ideal.

The only comfort and trust she could find was in you and Young-Mi. You felt bad for her as nobody wanted to team up with her or really talk to her. It would be nice to get out of your comfort zone.

For the second game, you teamed up with Hyun-Ju, an old lady and her son, a younger girl named Young-Mi. You survived thank God, but still wanted to know Hyun-Ju more.

Back in the dormitory, she was comfortable telling you and the team about her identity and her whole backstory.

"I accept you Hyun-Ju."

Those words stuck with Hyun-Ju. It's all she ever wanted, to be accepted for who she is.

"You're safe here, you have us."

It was like the family and love have been waiting for her in this place. She just had to look more deeper.

Unfortunately, that comfort wasn't going to last long. For the third game, it was mingle. When the carousel stops spinning, there will be a number on the screen announced and you have to form groups of that number and lock yourself in a room before the timer runs out.

Hyun-Ju made sure to stay with you and Young-Mi, both of you alive and safe. Everything was going well until one round.

You, Hyun-Ju and many other players were running to get to a room safely. Unfortunately, Young-Mi accidentally got pushed and couldn't make it to the door on time.

Hyun-Ju notices this and tries to save her. You looked at the timer, knowing there wouldn't be enough time to save her and you and all the others in the room would be dead.

Another player, Myung-Gi goes in and locks the door. Young-Mi rushes to the door and cries for Hyun-Ju.

Hyun-Ju is yelling for her and the whole thing made you feel bad.

Bang

Young-Mi drops the ground and is unresponsive. Hyun-Ju grabs Myung-Gi by his shirt and starts yelling at him.

"It's your fault! I could have saved her!"

"If you did, you would be dead, and all of us would. What's better 1 dead person or a group of 6 people dead?" Myung-Gi exclaims

He had a point but you just knew Hyun-Ju wanted Young-Mi to live. You also wanted her to live as well.

After the game was over, Hyun-Ju was silent walking back to the dormitory.

You thought it would be best to talk to her as you are starting to become closer with her.

"Hyun-Ju? Are you ok?" Reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, Hyun-Ju turns to you.

"I could have saved her. I should have saved her. She didn't deserve to die." Hyun Ju looks down in shame

"If you went to save her, you would have been dead too then."

"She wanted out of the game Y/N. If I pressed X, instead of O, maybe it would have helped, I should have left the room-"

"It was a hard decision, I know and there wasn't a lot of time left. I wish she made it too, but there's nothing you really can do about it"

"She was one of the first people besides you that really accepted me."

"She would also want you to keep moving forward and get out of here. I do too."

Hyun Ju turns to you

"We'll get out of here and you'll get that surgery, and you'll move to where you want to go. I have faith in you Hyun Ju."

"You do?"

"Yes I do, and you should too"

There was a moment of silence between you too. Hyun-Ju was taking in what you said. For the next vote, she was determined to keep going and survive not only for Young-Mi, but also for you.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?"

"It's like you're the only exception in this place, out of everyone here, I'm glad to have met you and Young-Mi."

"I'm glad too Hyun-Ju, I'm glad too."

She holds out her hand and you take it. You gave it a tight squeeze as reassurance everything will be ok. And it will be.

As long as Hyun-Ju had you, everything and anything felt possible.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld, @magicalconnoisseurcoffee, @dxrlingluv, @ninahorikoshifr

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Hyun-Ju Masterlist | Join my taglist

[optimisticmosquito]

What if Shen Yuan was transmigrated into Shang Yuan, youngest son in the merchant Shang family and Shang Qinghua's little brother.

At first Shang Qinghua doesn't put much thought into it. He never did write much of a backstory for the other peak lords, so it makes sense the world has kind of just, written itself? Shang Yuan is several years younger anyways (I'm thinking 7-10 years) so it's not like he has a lot in common with him either. Shang Qinghua even joined CQM when he was barely out of toddlerhood. Shang Qinghua was fully prepared to just slowly fade out of sight and mind in his new family, just like he had in his old one.

Except this kid just really hates his guts? He gets letters regularly from his family, telling him how a-Yuan has been asking about him. But every time he visits the brat just shouts and kicks him around. All out of sight of their parents so he can't even go and complain to them! In their eyes Shang Yuan is their perfect little angel.

Honestly, Shang Qinghua isn't even that surprised the original goods turned into a villain if this was how he grew up. And oops, did he say that out loud? Shang Qinghua peeks down at the rigid brat he's holding under his arm in an attempt to stop him from trying to beat him up. With big eyes the kid turns his head up and whispers "you're a transmigrator too?".

From that day on Shang Qinghua can't help but feel a little bit less lonely, and maybe even a little happy. Who would have thought his number 1 anti fan would transmigrate into his didi! They start writing letters, both complaining about the system, and Shang Qinghua about the sect and his martial siblings. When he starts working for Mobei-jun he tells Shang Yuan everything about it. He even has a reason to go back and visit his family!

Shang Qinhua quickly accepts his responsibility as gege. Helping (or trying to) his little didi grow up to a nice young man and giving tips when Shang Yuan starts cultivating as well. And despite Yuan-di's tsundere behavior, Shang Qinghua knows he has his back as well.

In his own badly written stallion novel, Shang Qinghua finally finds the family he didn't have in the real world.

Now as for pairings. Bingyuan would be hilarious just because I want Shang Qinghua to ask, with a shit eating grin, how long Shang Yuan has been coveting his own nephew. And then for Shang Yuan to try and beat the shit out of him for it.

Jiuyuan would also be an interesting pairing (it can always be a jiuyuan if you're brave enough). Shang Qinghua knows his scum villain is misunderstood and not as bad as the book and rumors portrays him to be. But also he knows Shen Jiu is at least a dozen traumas in a trenchcoat. Does it really have to be his didi helping Shen Jiu deal with all of that? Sure Shang Yuan doesn't seem to mind, but Shang Qinghua also knows his didi makes some really stupid choices if you take your eyes off him. But also he's too much of a coward to say anything to Shen Jiu's face.

Hm, better to keep an eye on that from a distance.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Mija's Halloween

Alexia Putellas x Baby!Reader

Summary: The twelfth of my Halloween-centric fics

It wasn't often that the staff let them have too much fun on camp.

There were breaks for team bonding and a few game nights but nothing like a party, especially not a Halloween party.

But the RFEF could be fickle at times and Alexia knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth so just nodded along when the staff told her of their plans.

Besides, it just meant that she could finally dig out the Halloween costume from her suitcase and put you in it.

You'd worn it once before at the store to check it was the right size but that was it. The tags were still on it by the time Alexia puts it on you for a second time.

"Mija," She coos," Over here, look at the camera."

You do no such thing, looking down at the scary pumpkin face on the front of your body. Your little brow furrows in confusion as you touch it.

"Mija," Alexia says again," Look, it's our friend Bun-Bun!"

At the mention of your bunny, your head pops up and you watch as Alexia dangles your best friend behind the camera.

"That's it," She says," Big smile. Smile for me, Mija."

You giggle as she makes Bun-Bun do a funny dance while she takes enough pictures of you to fill a whole album before finally returning your bunny to you.

"Oh!" Alexia says," Big kisses for Bun-Bun. Does Mami get kisses too?"

You lean forward and give her more of a big wet puff of air than an actual kiss but Alexia accepts it all the same, finally placing the hat onto your head so you can be a proper pumpkin.

"Now," She says, as she changes into her own costume," You need to remember to laugh when you see whatever silly costume Tia Jenni is wearing, okay? Osita will be a fox like always but Tia Jenni will wear something silly."

You babble a bit back at her, chewing on Bun-Bun's ear until Alexia lifts you up and onto her hip, pointing at the mirror.

"We're pumpkins!" Alexia says," Can you say that? Pump-kins?"

You babble something that kind of sounds like that but also not really.

Alexia takes it as a win, kissing the top of your head before making her way downstairs to where the party is already in full swing.

Just like she predicted, your cousin Osita is dressed up as a little fox complete with ears and paws and a cute bushy tail that you briefly wonder if you can pull.

You don't get the chance to though because Alexia gently presses a kiss to the top of Osita's head and continues walking through the hall, bringing Osita back to Tia Jenni at the same time.

It's not difficult to find the others, hidden away in the corner like they're simultaneously too old or too tired to take part in the quite vicious game of Spoons that the younger girls are partaking in.

"Jenni..." Alexia says," Are you a...?"

"Fork? Yes, yes I am."

Jenni grins proudly back, hands on her hips as she shows off her fork costume.

"And the fox ears are because...?"

"Osita wanted to match." Jenni looks down meaningfully at the bottom of the table, where Osita has hidden herself away with some food and her IPad. "But I've had this fork costume for ages so we compromised."

"You had this fork costume...for ages," Alexia repeats, completely deadpan.

"Since last Halloween," Jenni replies, nodding like she's done something particularly impressive by not assaulting everyone's eyes with the costume until this Halloween has rolled around.

"Mija," Alexia coos, getting your attention again," Remember what I said when we see Tia Jenni's silly costume?"

She tickles your tummy and you burst into a peal of laughter.

"That's exactly right! We laugh at Tia Jenni!"

Jenni rolls her eyes as she gestures towards Irene.

"At least I didn't just bring a sheet and cut holes in it!"

Irene, dressed plainly as a ghost, shrugs.

"This party was very short notice," She says," They're lucky I went out and bought a sheet rather than just cutting up one of theirs. Besides, Matteo wants to be a ghost this year. We can match."

"Well, Alexia knows all about matching. Two pumpkins in a pumpkin patch," Jenni teases.

Alexia rolls her eyes. "At least I'm making my little girl's dream come true. Fox ears? Really?"

"Hey! Osita likes them! Besides, Mija can barely talk. How do you know matching costumes is what she wanted?"

You hear your name and lift up your head from where you're playing with Bun-Bun.

Tia Jenni and Tia Irene are looking at you but you look away because Alexia is looking at you too.

You lean your whole body weight against her, tucking your head under her chin and reaching your hand out to play with her fingers.

Alexia grins down at you. "I think Mija is very happy with our pumpkin costumes."

"I think Mija," Jenni says pointedly," Is up past her bedtime."

Your train of babble has slowed down now and you're more of less gnawing on Bun-Bun's ear like you do with your dummy sometimes.

"Osita too," Alexia says, spying the way that Osita is leaning more heavily against Jenni's legs," I think this is a bit too much excitement for them."

"Well I guess they don't want any sweeties then."

You don't know a lot of words but you recognise that one, blinking blearily as you try to sit up though Alexia's arms cuddled around your body restrict a lot of your movement.

Irene shakes her little bag of sweeties and even Osita pops her head up to take a look.

"Mami!" You whine, kicking your little feet when Alexia doesn't let you lean forward to collect what Tia Irene is offering. "Mami!"

Alexia laughs at the stubborn look on your face, cheeks puffed out in outrage before she finally gives in.

"Maybe we eat this tomorrow, Mija," She says to you as a big yawn racks your whole body," You're very sleepy."

Her finger swipes down your nose and you go cross eyed trying to follow it. Your eyelids feel all heavy and droopy and Alexia is so nice and warm against you.

"Well I think she's out for the count," Alexia says softly, adjusting you in her arms until your head is pillowed against her shoulder," I think I should get her to bed."

A content, sleepy noise leaves your mouth that has Alexia melting as she puts you in your travel crib, smacking your little lips together.

"Your bottle isn't for another few hours," She coos, stroking a finger over your cheek," And then we can cuddle in bed."

You make another soft noise and Alexia just can't help herself.

"You're right, Mija," She says," Let's cuddle now."

[witchesverse]

brainwashed

pairing: dark!agatha x fem!reader

summary/request: Could you write a dark!Agatha Harkness x reader where she brainwashes you to make you her partner + if it is possible dub/noncon + smut

content: noncon, brainwashing, manipulation, kidnapping, virginity taking, pain, face slapping, pussy eating, crying, being thrown into a wall, begging.

a/n: sorry i know u asked for smut but i wanted to focus more on the brainwashing part :(( there is some smut but its not long

masterlist

"Don't you feel, I don't know, guilty for doing what you're doing?"

Agatha raised a brow and pursed her lips at Wanda's question. The younger witch shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and adverted her eyes to the ground.

"Guilty for giving her a better life?"

"For brainwashing her, Agatha."

Agatha bit her tongue. She hated when people used the word brainwashing to describe her relationship with you.

"She's perfectly content here. Why does it matter?"

"Of course, it matters!" Wanda snapped, "Y/n doesn't get to make her own decisions anymore and she doesn't get to think for herself."

"What?" Your voice caused both women's heads to snap in your direction.

Agatha's face morphed into anger before relaxing. She spread her legs and patted her thigh, which you gladly took a seat on. Her arm wrapped around your waist and she pulled you into her.

Wanda muttered a quiet apology before standing and leaving Agatha's house.

"What did Wanda mean by that?" You questioned.

Agatha laughed, "She's just had too much to drink, dear. You know how ditzy she becomes."

You nodded, wanting to trust Agatha but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. A dreadful feeling coursed through your body, but you didn't know why.

-

You woke with a gasp.

You remembered everything.

You met Agatha in the bar bathroom. You were drunk and high out of your mind, but she scared you enough for you to be able to recall the memory. Even as you fought her, she took your virginity and promised that she would be back for you.

You went to the police about her but they had no files on anyone with her description. You almost believed that you imagined the entire thing.

That was until she kidnapped you.

She didn't immediately place you under her spell, but after your fourth escape, she did. And ever since then, you've been brainwashed into thinking that you have been married to Agatha for centuries.

You glanced at Agatha's sleeping form and felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Whilst sleeping, she seemed sweet and harmless, but you knew she was a monster.

You carefully slipped out of bed and gathered a small bag of clothes. You needed to escape.

"Don't you fucking dare."

Magic wrapped around your body and threw you into the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs. You coughed and gasped for air as Agatha stalked towards you, purple energy dancing around her fingers.

"You're a sick fucking bastard." You spat.

The back of Agatha's hand collided with your cheek and you fought tears from pooling in your eyes. She scoffed like she was disgusted with you.

"You love it, don't lie."

"How the fuck can I love something if I can't even make my own decisions?" You screamed, not caring who heard you. "I'm not content or happy here. Wanda was right, you should feel-"

Your words got stuck in your throat as unbearable pain spread throughout your body. It felt like someone was piercing your body with thousands of knives whilst your body was set ablaze.

The pain continued until your vision started to speckle black and you were on the verge of passing out.

Agatha picked up your limb body from the floor and placed you on the bed. She hummed softly as she removed your clothing and kissed your bare skin.

You recognised the words she was humming and thrashed in her hold. Agatha was trying to put you back under her spell. Agatha tsked and her magic pinned your limbs down.

"Agatha, please." You cried, "Let me go."

Agatha ignored you and kissed your clit before wrapping her lips around it and sucking softly. The humming stopped, but magic encased her fingers, continuing the spell.

There was no point in fighting her, but that didn't stop you from squirming uncontrollably. You tried to kick her in the face and screamed in frustration when you couldn't move.

"You're fucking evil." You snarled, which pulled a chuckle from Agatha.

"You should meet my ex, sweetheart. I'd be considered kind compared to her."

"I'm surprised you even have an ex. You aren't loveable."

Agatha smiled but didn't say anything in response. It almost looked like you had hit a nerve.

A wave of comfort and peace washed over you. Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed. You should just give into her. Life was difficult before her.

No, No. These aren't your thoughts. They're her thoughts being injected into your brain, right? Your life before her was great! You had thousands of dollars of student debt, you were barely able to afford your bills, and you were struggling with friendships.

No, that's not right. Your life was good, wasn't it? You used to live at your cottage and sell vegetables to local farmers. But your life was better once Agatha, an abandoned and hurt witch, showed up to your door and was seeking refuge.

Those pesky villagers were hunting her down with their pitch forks. They wanted to hang her and burn her body. Such wretched, horrible people. It was the 1800s for crying out loud! Surely, people would start to realise witches' aren't that bad.

Agatha is the love of your life. She is everything you will ever need and you are destined to be with her forever.

Wait, what were you just thinking about? Was it about what you were making for dinner? You think so.

"My love?"

Your heart fluttered at Agatha's voice and you smiled. You cupped her face and kissed her softly.

"I think I might be coming down with a cold, Aggie." You rested your forehead against hers. "My body is aching and I feel so confused."

Agatha hummed, "How about we take a warm bath together?"

You gladly took Agatha's hand as she helped you to your feet. There was no questioning to why you were nude as that happened time to time; it just made it quicker to bathe.

"I'd love that."