#but it turns out it's even worse when you are a perfectionist.

[c4toru]

BLOWING OFF STEAM !

Sypnosis : you’re on the brink of failing and in desperate need of a tutor. nerd!suguru is here to save the day! what happens when you find the nerdy perv a bit cute..— what?

Warnings : 18+ content, female reader, switch!reader, switch!geto, pervy suguru, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex ( m + f receiving ), cowgirl position, panty sniffing, etc.

WC : 2.7k

a/n : i hope you all like this !! i’ve had nerd!suguru on my brain for a while, nobody ever writes him this pathetic, c4toru is here to save the day! ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ minors & ageless blogs dni

“fuck..” you grumble, you had just received a passive email from your statistics professor informing you that your grades have dropped severely in the past couple of weeks. he was concerned with the fact that this continuous behavior could lead to you failing his class, insisting that you give tutoring a try. you run your hands through your sleek hair, leaning far back into your chair before sighing noisily.

you always had a tough time with maintaining decent grades, especially in courses as complicated as statistics. it was a class that always left you feeling extremely stagnant. you don’t know anyone in your class but you do in fact briefly recall your professor naming one particular man as his top student.

suguru geto wasn’t necessarily intimidating, he seemed very welcoming and kind! well, at least he portrayed that side of himself to you. you had once done a quick in-class study session together as part of an assignment, he was exceptionally shy but not a total freak. the rest of your classmates tended to avoid associating themselves with him, not wanting to be labeled as a friend of the peevish and perfectionist nerd.

you dragged your hands down your face before slouching over your laptop once more. you figured one study session with him wouldn’t be the end of the world, very much awkward but not a total disaster. your nails hit the keyboard, quickly typing until you’ve scrounged up a coherent email explaining your situation. you began skimming through the bold text, your eyes gliding across the luminant screen before clicking ‘send’.

it feels as though an additional weight has been added to your workload. you stretch your limbs, pressing your lips together before raising yourself out of your seat. you turn, heading to your bed when you hear a raucous noise coming from behind you. ding

sugurugeto : of course i can help. although, the library tends to be too crowded for me to focus.. could we study at your place? | 10:05pm

you stare at the screen for a while, narrowing your eyes, bringing your hand up to your frazzled face, harshly pressing it to your forehead. “is he fucking serious..?” you whine, letting a random nerd from your statistics class into your dorm room, were you crazy..? you contemplate your next move, going through numerous situations as you play them all out in your head. “ugh maybe i am crazy,” you groan while you type away at your computer, clicking send on your message reluctantly.

y/n : that’s understandable, if you don’t have any other study locations in mind then we could do so at my place. thank you for the help! | 10:15pm

sugurugeto : does tomorrow at 6pm sound good for you? | 10:16pm

y/n : that sounds good. i’ll send you my address, thank you | 10:23pm

you shut your laptop, refraining from relishing in this strange moment. you now have a study period tomorrow with suguru geto, you figured it wouldn’t be too bad. little did you know, suguru had the biggest crush on you. he had been eyeing you ever since you stepped through the door to your shared class. the tiny skirts you wore perfectly showed off your soft and delicate legs, always causing his mouth to water. the singular time you had spoke to him, he swore he was dreaming.. how could a pretty girl like you ever come near him?

when he received your email, he swears his heart stopped beating. was it some sort of scam or even worse, were you hacked..? he truly couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. he felt the butterflies in his stomach as his entire body shook like a leaf in the wind while he typed up his message.

when he suggested he go over to your place, it was partially true! crowds did frighten him a bit.. though, he did love the library. truthfully, he just wanted to see you in what he calls ‘your natural form’. — god what a loser. despite everything, even if you weren’t enthusiastic about your upcoming meetup with him, suguru was sure ready for your little study date, at least that’s what he viewed it as.

the following morning came and went hastily meanwhile you prepare yourself as well as your dorm for quite the guest. you whip your head towards your clock, its 6:15pm, where is this guy..?— ding! ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ you swiftly move towards the door, taking in a shaky breath before opening your room door with a soft smile.

“hello! i thought you might’ve gotten lost.. hah..uhh come sit!” you awkwardly motion towards your desk, you pull a chair out for him before subtly staring him down. he looked surprisingly normal, his outfit was fairly casual but his hair wasn’t tied up in his usual bun. his hair looked soft as it gently caressed his facial features, were his cheeks always so toned.. god his glasses really do make his nose look deli—

“y/n..? where did you want to start?” he repeated, dragging you out of your trance. “oh! anywhere, you can lead the pace.” you reply, shooting him a soft smile out of reassurance. you both settle in and get to work, hours going by as he grills you on multiple different lessons. you lean back in your chair letting out an exasperated sigh, ���can we take a break please.. i might go crazy if i don’t,” you pout, eyebrows slightly raising when you hear his smooth laugh while he agrees in amusement.

“why don’t you leave your hair like this more often hmm?” you tease, twirling a small snippet of it with your fingers. his face flushes a bright red before wrapping his fingers around your wrist, halting your movements. “oh! i’m sorry i didn’t realiz—” . . . “can i kiss you?” he replies abruptly, he has a pathetic look on his face, almost like he’s begging.

“what..?” you question, you’re frozen with wide eyes. you’re shocked to say the least, suguru wasn’t necessarily hard to look at. he had a pretty face to him, a sharp jawline, and lustful purple eyes that really drag you in. “i- you’re just so pretty! a-and i’ve never been alone with a girl like this before..” he stutters shyly, you sort of feel bad for the guy. it’s clear how much of a virgin he is, you can’t recall a time where he’s even looked in a girls direction!

“seriously.. hah- just one time okay? i’m only doing this as a ‘thank you’ alright.” he nods excitedly, staring at you with longing puppy dog eyes. you remove his glasses, setting them on the desk before cupping his face gently with both of your hands as you pull him in and give him a soft kiss. you felt his breath hitch as you both pull back slightly, he looks away quickly while using both of his hands to cover his. . . crotch?

“don’t look!” he pleads, shifting his body away from you. you’re taken aback by his sudden tone of voice as well as his humiliated body language. your eyes narrow in on him, “suguru.. are you hard?” you ask, his face is tomato red and his eyes are wide like a deer in the headlights. he quickly grabs his glasses and his book bag that’s hanging on your chair before attempting to bolt for the door. “wait!” you yelp, grabbing his arm as you try to pull him back, “i-i’ll help you, just sit back down.”

you have no idea what’s gotten into you, all you can focus on is the fact that this nerdy perv is now sitting on your bed with his pants off as you’re on your knees in front of him, staring up at him with doe eyes. his shirt is lifted and the hem is tucked into his mouth. your hands reach for the waistline on his boxers, slowly pulling them down when his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. he’s whimpering while you stare intensely at his pretty curve and pink mushroom tip, pressing your thighs together at the pure sight of his lengthy cock.

“m’gonna touch you kay?” your lip is tucked between your teeth while he nods expectantly. you smear the pre-cum forming on his slit, a wad of spit leaving your mouth and dripping right on the head of his cock. your hand soon envelopes his tip, moving up and down in a twisting motion that causes his hips to buck.

“nngh- f-feels so good,” suguru whined, letting go the hem of his shirt as he brings a hand up to cover his lewd expressions. you bring your mouth to his cock head before pursing your lips, letting an obscene amount of spit dribble all the way down his shaft. he lets out a wet moan at the sight.

you’re planting harsh kisses down his length, licking and sucking periodically around his base. “want you to use my mouth kay? just want you t’a feel good,” you say seductively, licking your lips before you engulf his cock into your mouth, tongue flicking against his frenulum. “f-fuck! so w-warm.. nngh please!” he pleads, his heavy hand softly caressing your head as you began bobbing your head up and down on his hefty cock.

your hands firmly grip his thighs as he bucks his hips up further into your mouth causing you to gag, throat tightening around his shaft, earning an elated moan from him. “c-can i fuck your mouth p-please..?” he needly asks, eyebrows furrowed while he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. you stare up at him, batting your long eyelashes when you nod, humming around him.

he’s rutting his hips into your mouth, cock hitting the back of your throat deliciously. “y-yeah take it.. hah” he grumbles, you’re being starved for breath as spit drips all over the base of his cock, traveling down to his balls. “m’gonna cum! w-where do i—” he whines, you push his hands off and take initiative, suckling on his flushed tip while your free hand strokes the rest of his length. “o. . oh f-fuck m’cumming! d-don’t stop ah!” he pleads, his hand covering his own mouth, his eyelids fluttering as he’s cumming down your throat. you moan at the action, eyebrows furrowed as you swallow his thick fluids.

you pull off his cock, he winces at the friction before you climb on top of him, pushing him against the mattress, giving him a rough kiss. your tongue prodding against his, spit connecting your lips when you pull back. “feel good sugu?” you smirk, your smitten expressions fall when he flips the two of you over. “i- i wanna taste you, can i?” he replies, pawing at the waistband of your sweatpants in desperation.

“do you even know what you’re doing..” you question him, unsure if you really want to continue this relationship. “well n-no! not yet. . but you can teach me! i’ll be good i promise.” he’s practically begging you with pathetic heart eyes. you’re just so cute, he doesn’t know how to act anymore. “ugh.. fine just go slow ‘kay?” you whisper, hands covering your face out of embarrassment.

he’s pulling your sweats down, tossing them in the corner of the room. you’re wearing these pastel pink panties with lace on the borders, small print of roses and hearts all across the front, a small white bow in the center. suguru feels lightheaded, he could probably cum untouched if he stared long enough. he caresses your thighs, spreading them apart slowly as you feel his hot breath flowing against your clothed cunt.

his tongue escapes his mouth, licking a long stripe from the outline of your hole up to your mound. you’re letting out soft moans while he leaves sweet delicate kisses on your covered clit.

his nose pressing up against your cunt as he’s sucking and licking the fabric. “hah.. you smell so delicious, think m’gonna go crazy,” he groans, tonguing your clit through the cloth, earning loud yelps from you. “nngh! you’re so n-nasty.. ah!” you cry, your hips jerking up into his face.

he hooks his two hands into your panties before dragging them down your legs, tossing them near his sweats, hoping he’ll be able to take them home as a souvenir. “be gentle, if you go too fast it won’t feel good..” you whimper as you widen your legs, a hand coming down to spread yourself open for him to see. his mouth is beginning to water as he inches closer towards your dripping cunt.

“stop staring! j-just do it already!” you mewl, your hands coming up to cup your perky breasts. he rubs his thumb on your puffy clit, gently spitting on it before giving it a long suck. he's planting sloppy kisses all over your cunt, from your labias to your twitching hole. “so sweet mmf..” he moans into your pussy, delving back into your wet folds.

“i-inside! put a finger inside- hah..nngh!” you cry out, needing more stimulation. he slowly inserts his middle finger into your sopping wet cunt, it’s going in with such ease despite how thick his fingers are. he’s in awe at how well your pussy his swallowing him before testing the waters and squeezing in another finger.

“y-you’re so tight.. does it hurt?” he asks worried, he’s slowly thrusting his fingers inside you, the pace is almost agonizing. “no just- p-please keep going.. nngh,” you shake your head, begging him to continue as you feel yourself getting closer.

he’s putting his parched lips back onto your swollen clit, sloshing his tongue against it as he pistons his digits deep inside you. “ff-fuuuckkk.. right there suguru! m’gonna- ah!” you yawp, thighs tightening around his head while your hands grab fist fulls of his hair.

your cunt is dripping your slick all over his face and he’s gulping up every last drop. he’s humming little ‘mhm’ s as you ride out your orgasm on his broad nose. he pulls his thick fingers out of you , you stare down at his disheveled face. his glasses are crooked, hair a complete mess with your juices covering his face.

you sit up, crawling towards him, latching your hands onto his shoulders and kissing his fucked out lips harshly. “want you so bad.., can i? please sugu..” now you’re the one pouting and begging him for more. of course he’s nodding in agreement, he could never turn down a pretty little thing like you especially when you’re pleading for his cock.

you’re pushing him against the bed, plump thighs straddling his hips. “lemme make you feel good sugu- hah,” you whine, stroking his heavy cock before lining him up with your warm entrance, sinking yourself down on him.

his hands find your hips, grabbing onto them for dear life as your pretty pussy sucks him in. “s-slow please, you feel so good mnngh!” he moans, your hips rocking into his viciously. your pace is already so deadly for him, a virgin former virgin at that. “fuckk y/n p-please! i can’t- shiiiit. . s-so good mmf!” he babbles before being silenced by your dainty palm.

“f-fuck..just shut up- nngh!” you mewl, one hand silencing him while the other digs into his chest. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your sweet cunt milks him.

you’re letting out lewd moans meanwhile the melodious sound of skin slapping fills the room. your feet rest on top of his thighs, you’re bouncing up and down as your creamy pussy swallows his curvy cock justtt right.

your tired body leans flush to his chest, slowly grinding your hips together before you remove your hand from his mouth and landing a sloppy kiss to his lips. your tongues swirling together in unison, “wanna cum p-please y/n, wan’ it so bad nngh,” he cries, drawing a giggle out of you. how pathetic.

“yeah? c’mon give it to me big boy, want it all inside- hah..” you reply, biting your lip. he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist while he bucks his hips up into you, slick balls slapping against your ass. “ah! m’gonna cum sugu, r-right there!” you moan into the crook of his neck, leaving kisses behind his ear.

you finally gush all over him, your juices spraying all over his lower abdomen. “f-fuck you’re so tightt! m’cumming- hah.. mmf!” suguru rambles, his reddened tip releases thick white spurts into you as he pounds into your cervix. he’s cumming so hard he swears he’s seeing stars, only thing bringing him back down was your soft pleas for a kiss.

“kiss me suguru, p-please mmh,” you kiss him passionately, tongue moving its way throughout his mouth as you both grip onto each other, hungry for one another. you let go of him, caressing his pretty face before pulling apart to flop your body over next to him as you both struggle to catch your breath. you are sitting in comfortable silence until. .

“y/n? does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asks innocently, turning towards you, his thumb caressing your cheek.

you sigh, glueing your eyes shut. what a fuckin’ nerd

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! i might write little drabbles bout this duo in the future ^.^ their story definitely isn’t over.

[cardo-de-comer]

matej doodle

[wheeboo]

paging dr. heartthrob | lee chan {TEASER}

SYNOPSIS. You can’t afford to be burnt out, especially during a crucial era of your life: being in medical school. Enter your best friend—a boy with a tough-looking exterior, a skateboard that’s seen better days, and a heart softer than his beat-up converse—Lee Chan, with his backpack full of snacks, and an uncanny ability to show up exactly when you need him most. He may not be a doctor, nor exactly your therapist, but he certainly is a heartthrob, and your heart can’t help but always page him. PAIRING. skater boy!lee chan x med student!reader (ft. lowkey stoner!vernon, med student!jeonghan, med student!joshua, soonyoung) GENRE. fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, suggestive, hurt/comfort, college au WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER). swearing, vaping and mention of weed, just silly banter between two "best friends" <3 WARNINGS (FOR FULL FIC). swearing, food and drinking mentions, suggestive, drug use (weed & vaping), so much fucking mutual pining!!!, reader is quite literally me so self-indulgent maybe?, reader is an overthinking anxious burnt-out mess :((, chan has a mullet, piercings, and tattoos yes (re: cough attacca dino cough), chan is a self-critical perfectionist oof, vague descriptions of minor injuries, mental health topics, medical terminology language, a scene of a panic attack WORD COUNT (FOR THE TEASER). 1.3k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). approx 20-25k

notes: hello, my little flowers! this is my teaser for the @camandemstudios "the lonely heart's cafe" collab <3. I'VE BEEN BLESSED TO FINALLY WRITE FOR LEE CHAN‼️if you would like to be tagged when this fic comes out, please send an ask or comment down below! sign up for the taglist for the entire collab here! please send all your love to the other authors who are participating in this as well !!

“You’re late,” he calls out, kicking the skateboard up into his hands and jogging over to meet you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Blame my neuro attending. That man has the stamina of a marathon runner and the patience of a saint. Could rival Derek Shepherd, to be honest. I think I aged ten years today.” You set your bag down on the floor next to a nearby bench. “You didn’t wait long, did you?”

“Nah, not that long. You actually came before Vernon𑁋he left his vape here,” Chan says while fishing the vape out of his pocket and taking a shameless hit from it, a cloud of vapour floating into the air when he exhales, before offering it to you with a teasing grin. “Want a hit?”

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head with a laugh. “Offering me, a med student, that shit is crazy. My lungs are precious thank you, unlike you and Vernon.”

“Tell that to those bozos.” He points to the noisy teenagers at the other side of the park, before sitting right next to you on the bench. “Can’t even roll over there without getting smacked in the face with weed.”

Your smile falters just slightly as you watch him lean back, his face tilting towards the darkening sky. The dim light of the streetlamps catches on the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the relaxed purse of his lips, and highlights the dragon tattoo that snakes up his arm. He looks... peaceful. Content. Like the world isn’t asking too much from him tonight, like there’s no weight of expectations pressing on his shoulders, unlike you.

“I messed up today during clinicals,” You randomly confess, making Chan turn toward you. “There was this patient today… a girl. Seventeen years old, has a tumour that’s basically about to split her brain in half. I kept arguing with my attending about treatments, and I was so sure I was right𑁋that we could do something more about it𑁋but in the end, I just... made it worse. I felt like such an idiot, because… because there wasn’t anything we could do. She only has one chance with surgery, and she took it, despite her low chances of surviving.”

Chan listens to you, his eyes gentle and thoughtful, understanding but not pitying. It’s the same way he used to listen when you were venting back in high school, always patient, never rushing you to fix yourself or your emotions.

“You’re not an idiot,” he tells you, but his tone is nothing like a scold. “You care. That’s the difference. Not everyone would have fought that hard for her, even if you didn’t win. You’ve got a heart the size of the ocean, dude, you know?” 

You smile faintly, chest tightening a little to his words. “The mother-fucking ocean?”

Chan grins at your lightheartedness, nudging you with his elbow. “Yeah, the mother-fucking ocean. You’re stubborn as hell, but you’ve got that heart. And that’s what makes you good at what you do. It’s what makes you you.”

You look down almost in guilt from his words, watching as you unconsciously play with your fingers in your lap. You don’t know why, but it hits harder than usual tonight, and for the briefest moment, you feel the rush of everything you’ve been holding back𑁋the exhaustion, the frustration, the feeling that you’ve been carrying more than your fair share of weight these days. They almost threaten to burst out of you, but right now, they don’t. Not yet at least.

“You’re gonna be a good doctor, you know?” Chan continues. “I don’t even have to be a doctor to know that. You just… you get it. You’re going to go out there and do great things. Maybe even better things than me.”

You almost want to laugh at that, almost want to tell Chan just how much shit he’s done that is far greater than what you could ever dream of. You’re not sure if he realises it himself𑁋how great he is, how much you admire him, love him𑁋but you think you could spend more than a lifetime telling him just that if you could. 

You feel your heart do that familiar flip again, but this time, you let it pass. Maybe you’ve been avoiding these feelings for too long, but the truth is, they’ve been there for as long as you can remember. You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment these feelings shifted from friendship to something more𑁋maybe it was when he helped you get through the first few years of high school, or when he held your hand during a school dance, not in some romantic gesture but because you were scared of your anxiety acting up𑁋but it’s always been there. He’s always been there. 

“I… Thank you, Chan,” You say softly. Then you tilt your head back, looking at the same sky he is, feeling the heaviness in your chest ease just a little. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that? But you’re also... you’re really great yourself. Like, better-than-I-deserve great.”

Chan just chuckles at that. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his head slightly to look at you. “That’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, and I’ve heard a lot of dumb shit from you.”

“Wow, okay. Forget all that I said then,” You retort back playfully, shaking your head and crossing your arms together. “You’re the worst person alive, actually.”

When you’re busy gazing up at the sky above, Chan turns to you. His eyes flit over you, taking in the way your eyelashes slowly bat together from tiredness, how your lips are slightly curled up in relaxation, how your features glow from the singular street lamp illuminating the skate park. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and glances away, his thoughts racing faster than he can keep up with.

“You meant it though, right?” he asks.

“What?” You question, turning towards him. 

“About me being great or whatever.” You can tell he’s trying to brush off the hesitation, but you sense the uncertainty in his voice. “You meant it?”

Out of all times, you wonder why he’s questioning it right now at almost midnight in the middle of the skate park. You’ve told him countless times how great he is, always hyping him up for skate competitions and giving him comfort on the times he’s down himself. Why… is he suddenly asking if you meant it?

“Well, I… Of course, I meant it,” You respond, catching his eye. “Why wouldn’t I?”

For a few moments, there’s just silence, comfortable, a pinch of awkward𑁋a word you can pretty much never associate with your interactions together𑁋yet heavy. The way Chan’s features soften on his face from your words seem more important than the stars blinking up in the sky right now. 

Then all it takes is a tiny giggle from him, and you can’t help but groan.

“Oh no,” You grumble pesteringly, shooting him an exasperated glance, but your tone is light, teasing. “I fueled your ego now, didn’t I?” 

“Yep. I can walk around like I’m the best thing since sliced bread,” Chan jokes, puffing out his chest with pride. “My greatness has been confirmed by a certified medical professional.”

“Whatever, big head,” You sneer back playfully. 

Chan stretches out a bit more on the bench, his legs extending and his arms behind his head. You can tell he’s getting more comfortable too, probably ready to call it a night, just like you, and you can’t help but let yourself soften a little.

Without thinking, you shift your body and lean your head down and gently rest it in Chan’s lap. His body stiffens for a moment as if he wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets you settle, and after a beat, his hand comes to gently rest in your hair, and something tugs at your heartstrings from the feeling. Your eyes slowly flutter to a close.

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[apricityxoxo]

Help and Care

✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)

✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?

✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue

here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies

enjoy

Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.

When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.

He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.

He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.

Training.

Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.

They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆｡ ˚⋆

Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.

Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.

When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.

Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.

It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.

That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.

He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.

Now he was pissed.

Price knew.

Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.

“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”

“Ghost, come now!”

“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.

“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”

“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”

“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.

“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”

“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?

“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”

“Yessir!”

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Unbelievable!

He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.

He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.

He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways,  and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.

Knock-knock.

Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…

“Come on in”

He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.

God damn.

Those were the only words on his mind.

It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.

It was a young woman.

A beautiful young woman.

A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.

He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.

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He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…

He’s still staring.

“… excuse me, is everything alright?”

“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.

He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you. 

Wait. ‘take a visit down here’

Oh. He needed help. 

“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with. 

“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”

You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself. 

Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl. 

No, You need to remain a professional.

“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”

“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.

“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.

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Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment. 

“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.

“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”

“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.

He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.

You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.

You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over. 

You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.

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“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off. 

“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.

“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.

“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries. 

He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye. 

“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.

“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.

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Week 2 

He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting. 

Waiting.

Waiting. 

Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.

AND GAHHH LEEE

When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.

The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.

When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-

Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—

It’s him.

He’s here. 

Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.

You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine. 

Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…

“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.

“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.

“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.

You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest. 

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You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury. 

You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.

The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.

His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.

“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”

“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”

“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.

You feel like he’s such a kind man.

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Week 4

Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.

You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.

You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.

His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off. 

He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.

Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do. 

You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.

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Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.

You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day. 

You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier. 

He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both. 

You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.

It was irritating.

Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.

Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.

“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.

There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.

“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.

“Thank you,” he replies.

“No problem Luitenent” you respond.

“Call me, Simon.”

That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.

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Week 6

This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office. 

In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk. 

He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN. 

The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore.  They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office. 

Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face

“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face. 

Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around. 

When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair. 

You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.

Cocky bastard. 

You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.

Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes. 

During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.

“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.

“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes. 

“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist. 

“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask. 

Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—

Knock Knock

The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.

You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing. 

“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit. 

One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face. 

She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else. 

“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon. 

“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.

“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you. 

“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically. 

“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip. 

“See you tomorrow Si”

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Week 8

Two months.

He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him. 

Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—

He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way. 

It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–

He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman. 

He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful. 

When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it. 

Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind. 

He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced. 

Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself. 

“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone. 

“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.

“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”

“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.

“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room

Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.

‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.

“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.

“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.

“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.

Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date. 

He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something. 

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15 minutes.

He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.

It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.

Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop. 

They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.

It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.  

He knocks.

He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”

Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you. 

“Hi, how can I help you?”

He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.

“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.

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giggling and kicking my feet

[reticent-writer]

Hey! Well, actually, I really like the set of stories about Teen!Reader and Alostor where the reader is classified as an assistant, I would like a story that shows how they met and how they get to the point where they consider him an assistant and their confidence to say him dad? Thank you, I'm sorry if the request was very long. (Writing this I remembered the fight Alastor and Lucifer had over Charlie about who she calls Dad, I felt it would still be a good scenario for indignation)

An: I had a storyboard for this exact thing but its messy and if you don't know me you probably wouldn't understand how my mind works but basically i have ocs for this

This took a bit longer because it happens before Alastor and reader dies plus I gave reader a family so...... some basic info

Y/n was born into a family that was picture perfect on the outside

father was a factory worker Mother was a dressmaker

Doll House by Melanie Martinez fits them perfectly

Y/n was the middle child of 5

When Y/n was born the eldest (Atticus boy) was 10, Second eldest 6 (Alma girl), Middle child (y/n)

when y/n turned 4 their parents had twins (Giles boy, Gideon boy)

This is a glimpse into my mind. It might not make sense.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

-1920-

Y/n is 10.

Your parents were perfectionists, especially when it came to the public eye. The L/n family was always the center of attention in your little town, deep in Louisiana.

You and your siblings were constantly dressed in Sunday's best.

"Kids make yourselves look presentable. A client is coming soon." Your mother called out from her 'workspace'. kids aren't allowed in there.

"Can't we just stay in our rooms." Atticus complained from his spot on the couch.

"Get. Dressed."

Atticus groaned as he got up to go to his room. On his way, he knocked on your door before opening it.

"You're supposed to wait for a response, Jackass."

"Next time you curse at me I'm poppin' you." He threatened but you knew he wouldn't do anything, "Mom said get dressed, tell Alma."

He closed the door before you could complain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as he ran to his room.

His room was at the end of the hall. the hall was short with 2 doors on each side. Alma was across from you and the twins were next to her.

Right across from your room is Alma's. She's going into her preteen years and started to spend more time in her room. Your mother says she's adjusting to becoming a woman and needs her time alone. She's also becoming very snappy.

You slowly opened your door to stare at hers. You slowly walk into the hallway and up to her door. You knock three time and wait for a responce. She didn't open the door.

"I heard Atticus." Her voice was horse and strained but you believed what your mother told you.

That was all you needed to get yourself ready.

-------

Your mother made all (except for Alma) of you sit in the living room and wait for the client.

*knock knock knock*

"He's here. You better behave." She says before opening the door with a smile only guests see, "Alastor, It's so good to see you again."

"Good to see you to, my dear and my my look at the children. They all seem to be in good health." He greeted all of you with a smile.

"Hello sir." Atticus spoke for all of you.

"You seem to be missing one." Alastor commented, making your mother chuckle.

"She's been feeling under the weather as of late, come along I need to take your measurements. Atticus, Y/n prepare some tea." She ordered.

Alastor and your mother went to her workspace and she shut the door.

----------

That night went smoothly until your father got home. He didn't like the fact that your mother was in her workspace with a man and the door closed, even if he was a client.

It caused fighting -well more than there normally is anyway- between your mother and father. It's always been easy to make your father mad.

It got worse when Alastor took notice of it he came by more often with the excuse of having gifts for you and your siblings.

He gave you a radio to listen to him when he went on air. Atticus was offered a job at the radio station. Alma got a set of jewelry.

This angered your father more and instead of taking it out on Alastor or your mother he took it out on you and your siblings. Atticus tried to protect all of you.

One day your father and Atticus got into a really bad fight and your brother was shot. He didn't make it.

It was around the same time when a horrid smell started coming from Alma's room. Your parents said she caught a fever and no one noticed but you didn't believe them anymore.

From then on you started distancing yourself from your family and growing closer to Alastor.

--------

When you got older (16) you started working with alastor at the radio station. He taught you how to live life without worry.

He treats you like your a person and not just your parent's child.

Your parents treated you like a decoration. Alastor treated you like a child he didn't know he wanted.

You found out he was a murder by accident. You forgot someone at the station late at night and went back to get it to see blood spattered in the talking booth.

At first you thought it was Alastors so you took a gun that the station had in case of emergencies and followed the trail.

Opening the back door you saw Alastor dragging the body. The two of you made eye contact. Your body moved without hesitation and helped him hide the body.

------

Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

This is long and not what I usually write but it's been stuck in my head for a while.

A/n: I've decided to cut the twins and make y/n the youngest. I had something for them originally but it's better for just Alma, Atticus and Y/n

Art by @ghostly-one

[jhkfan123]

million dollar man | coriolanus snow

"you're screwed up and brilliant.."

pairing: academy! snow x fem!academy student

in which: you just couldn't seem to win with him. every 100% you got, he got a 101%. with graduation approaching, you knew you had to get valedictorian somehow. he was making it too difficult.

warnings: slight angst, academic pressure, slight non-con kiss

wc: 1.7k

a/n: i genuinely struggled to write a happy ending but it's finally here

the professor handed you back your test, faced down. she always did, with every other student too, but there was something about receiving it face down that always made you nervous. at least you weren't like some of the others, who constantly left class with their head hung low.

you turned your paper over. 98%. it wasn't good enough. not to your standards, anyway. and it especially wasn't good enough for coriolanus snow, who now was glancing at you from across the classroom, a smug smile on his face. you weren't ever going to hear the end of this, just like every other time he had scored higher than you.

this had to stop. graduation was approaching at a rapid pace, and valedictorian was the role you had aimed for your entire life. both your parents had achieved it, your older brother had too. which meant you pretty much had to. and the boy now looking over at you made it increasingly hard for you to achieve this goal. and worse, he didn't even know how bad you needed it.

you assumed he had gotten a perfect 100. it was the only reason he would already be smiling. it meant there was no way you could beat him. not this time.

you heard your professor dismiss you and for once, you became one of the kids who walked out of class with their head low. you had recently realized how close the valedictorian decision was. this 98% would set you back farther than it should. making your way out, you saw snow approach you out of your periphery. you picked up your pace, hoping he would just back off today.

it didn't work. when you left the crowded sea of people exiting the class, and found yourself closer to your locker, he caught up to you.

"hey 83." 83. it was the lowest you had scored at the academy, and he never let it go. it was aggravating.

"coriolanus, please, i can't do this today" you sighed and finished opening your locker. you put your book away in the small cube and grabbed everything else you needed for your afternoon classes.

"can't what? admit i did better than you on this one?" he showed his paper to you, a big red 100% circled in the top right corner. you rolled your eyes at him and slammed your locker door.

"whatever you want to tell yourself." you groaned and made your way to the lunch line. you noticed his demeanor change. he hated when you weren't up for his competition. it was his favorite part of the day, that's what you determined anyway. he realllllyyy seemed to get a kick of out it. he followed behind you swiftly.

"wait wait wait. what'd you score?" he asked. you thought about wether or not you wanted to tell him. if you didn't he would keep vexing you the rest of the day. if you did, you would have to sit through a couple minutes of verbal torment. you truly couldn't decide what the better option was.

"98." you said, very quietly. just because he wanted to know didn't mean the whole school had to know. you saw a smirk appear on his face.

"sorry what was that?" the look on his face made it crystal clear he had already heard you, he was just provoking you.

"i got a 98, coryo. now please, go find someone else to torment." you urged him away, but he got in the lunch line directly behind you. you sighed again.

"98." he repeated to himself, feeling the success roll of his tongue. "two away from perfect." that's what it seems to be. you were always two away from perfect. there was always something wrong, always something to be improved. you weren't sure if that was your family talking, or the perfectionist inside you. nevertheless, he had suddenly made you more aware of the faults in your recent test. it was maddening.

"look i have a meeting with professor click." you faced him now, which startled him slightly. " and i need to talk to you. i'll swing by you later." you grabbed your lunch tray and headed off.

afterschool, you rushed over coriolanus's dorm. every student had to do at least one semester living on campus for graduation, and most seniors chose the last semester, to live together and be together for the last time. so the walk from your dorm to his was not very extensive. you walked down your hallway, down the stairs, outside, up stairs, and approached his dorm. at least, you were pretty sure it was his. you had never actually been.

you knocked on his door. there was silence for a moment. then you heard a monotone "come in." you did as told and opened the door. you found coriolanus hunched over his desk, his hand fanned over his forehead. he was looking over numerous papers.

you knew the high grades the two of you had achieved came at a cost. multitasking this and a social life was not very possible. you had managed to somewhat pull it off, but it was very difficult to achieve. you had assumed every night was like this for him. study hard, and it pays off. but studying hard also means stress and pain. you looked like this most nights. in fact, it was a miracle you even had time to come visit him today.

"hey." he said, moving the papers off to the side. you never really had seen him like this. he was usually so cocky, such a showboat. but here he was stressed and real.

"hi. look, can we talk?"you stood in the doorway, until he gestured you in. you closed the door behind you. while awaiting his response, you looked around his dorm. there was an empty dorm bed parallel to his. he had attained a room with no roommate. there was a makeshift kitchen where the other desk was. there was a dresser below the window and very basic decorations all around. when you made you way back to coriolanus, he was nodding. "ok. i just want to let you know that i need this."

he seemed confused. "need what?"

"valedictorian. i don't know what kind of pressure you have on your back, but i assure you mine is worse." you began to ramble.

"seriously." he seems dissapointed that this had become the subject of the conversation. "why would i just give up valedictorian to you?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"i'll tell you. my entire family has been valedictorian for years." he rolled his eyes. "if i don't get valedictorian, my parent's would kill me."

he thought for a moment. "and why would i care about that?" he continued to counter your statements.

"because, coryo." you whined "you have the grades, you have everything and i need this because i have not worked my entire life for this to lose." you got more angry now. you didn't deserve to lose to him after spending your entire life studying.

"what makes you think that i have less pressure than you? have you ever considered that maybe the plinth prize is a factor in this?!" he raised his voice now. the statement seemed odd. the snow's were rich, disgustingly rich, right?

"look you may want that prize, but some people need it." you rebutted. you didn't need the prize for the money, but for the satisfaction. so that your parents could frame the certificate on your wall.

"i need it. trust me." he became stricter now. he looked at you with a dark gaze. in what world would a snow need the plinth prize?

"ok well," you thought for a moment. "if i don't get valedictiorian i will have done everything for nothing, and got nothing from everything; from all the hard work i've put in every single year of my life!" snow became more annoyed by the moment, but you couldn't stop rambling. "and i didn't have anything in my way until you decided that everything had to be a competition and you had to beat me, and now you have and i just want you to-"

"shut up." he walked over to you and shut your mouth with a breathtaking, rough kiss. it was completely unexpected, and you fell into a moment of shock. his kiss kept going and you weren't sure wether to shove him away, or let him do it.

usually you wouldn't even have to think and take the first option immediately, but for some reason you let it happen. and out of some world, you kissed him back.

maybe it was all those years of built up anger against him. maybe it was a stress release. maybe you just needed an escape.

but maybe it was something else. you decided that you felt comfortable here, his lips on yours. this complicated feeling of hating him and loving him at the same time. the second one was new. loving him. you didn't have an explanation.

maybe it was the years of arguments that had turned into banter he looked forward to every day. soon the dot's started to connect. you realized how many chances he took to talk to you.

your mother always taught you that boys had a funny way of showing things. a funny way of telling you things. and now it made sense. he had been doing this as a way to talk to you. as a way to get closer to you. you didn't need confirmation. the kiss was enough. you liked this. no. you loved this.

everything became more intense. he hadn't pulled away, and you hadn't either, so you kept going. you felt his hands around your waist as he pushed you against the front wall of the dorm.

you could have kept going all night with him. but you needed to hear him talk. you finally pulled away and took your first deep breath after around five minutes.

"what. the hell." you said through exasperated breaths. you spoke the words to him, but also to yourself. this was not how you expected the day to go.

"god." you heard him mumble under his breath.

"what?" you asked.

"i just hate that i waited so long to do that." his comment sent goosebumps through your body.

"i didn't even know i wanted that until now." you again, spoke to both yourself and him. he smiled at you. proud of his accomplishment.

this was a different type of success that you normally felt. this success in romance felt different than the academic success you had been working towards your whole life.

you liked this success.

[eldritch-spouse]

Mervin walking into our bedroom unsuspecting of the sight that is about to lay before him

Me laying on the bed french girl style with rose petals on the bed to celebrate the anniversary of our relationship

Happy anniversary Met'ni wink wonk

Oh, you don't know the fright you gave him.

Coming home from a tiring job to an entirely silent house? With the lights turned off? This is clearly a trap.

He doesn't even go for his sai, Mervin's grip goes straight to a handgun. He's ready to kill on sight.

His eyes are open, steadily filling him with pain but allowing him as much of a field of vision as crystal clear as he can get. He thinks about what might have happened when he was gone, thinks about any mistakes he did, where you are, if you're hurt, or worse...

Unfortunately, this results in Mervin pointing a gun at you and likely making you scream in pain from sudden wide-eyed eye contact. In his defense however, he doesn't freak out and berate you, even if that's kind of what he wants to do because he feels like you've put yourself in danger for no reason... Mervin acts quickly, discarding the gun and keeping his eyes in their usual stance while taking measures to quietly guide you through the sudden pain.

Although he doesn't apologize for ruining the mood, he definitely explains why he reacted the way he did, and that you should give him a small warning next time. Once the demon is calmer, he definitely quietly appreciates all the perfectionist detail you put into this event.

Mervin fixes the situation by taking you out somewhere disgustingly fancy, and if the mood returns throughout the night, you two will be making the most out of that bedroom.

[sxfterhearts]

convenience store comfort: a jongseob headcannon

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol!jongseob x angry + tired!y/n ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: just fluff, seob and y/n aren't together (yet), reader is angry (!!) and jongseob is there to comfort her + calm her down <3 mentions of alcohol and late night CU shenanigans

♡ word count: 1.8k words, all dotpoints, lowercase and no punctuation intended (+ weird formatting grrr)

♡ author's note: a lot of people requested for jongseob. idk whether its bc im perfectionistic but im not 100% happy with this, so i will defs do another one soon to do him and your requests justice (╥ ᴗ ╥)

♡ a song to listen to: just dont know it yet, new hope club

//

you and seobie were dance class partners since you were in kindergarten :))) omg imagine little seob and little you jamming to songs – so adorable

you had your regular weekly meetup with the dance crew to go over some new choreography and jam to some new songs recommended by your crew members

the moment you entered the dance studio and locked eyes with jongseob (who was doing his regular warmups on the floor) he could already tell something was up

your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, glasses resting crookedly on your head, sleeves rolled up unevenly - as though you just emerged from a hurricane

as you approached jongseob’s corner he lowkey panicked

he could see your eyebrows were scrunched up and your lips formed in an adorable pout - too adorable for him to keep a straight face, so he just muttered softly under his breath, “long day?”

you plopped down onto the floor next to him, immediately collapsing into a heap. you laid down with your head resting close to his lap, and arms and legs spread out, staring up at the ceiling. “couldn’t be worse,” you replied irritatedly.

the rest of practice went by in a blur - you could barely keep up with the moves - instead opting to linger at the back next to jongseob

you were trying to subtly copy his moves, but was promptly called out by your leader for slacking off and forgetting the moves from last week

by the time everyone vacated the studio, it was safe to say that you were pissed. and so done with life.

“should we go to CU?” jongseob asked, careful, as though he was walking on eggshells around you - unsure when you were about to explode.

“let’s go” you replied without even looking at him, snatching your bag off the ground and turning promptly on your heels, already making your way out of the studio.

“hey!! wait up, y/n!”

it became a tradition to grab snacks from the CU downstairs after difficult dance practices

it all started in high school, when jongseob was devastated after losing a dance comp and you tried to cheer him up by buying him every single flavour of gummy candies on offer 

(it didn’t really work, but when jongseob chewed on the pillowy soft bits of peachy goodness whilst staring at the funny faces you pulled to cheer him up, he could feel his tired heart begin to warm up)

“what do you- oh.” he was about to ask what you wanted, because it was his treat (by tradition: the person who is in charge of cheering the other up would pay), but the words caught in his throat when he followed you around the CU, leading him straight to the alcohol section – it mustve been pretty bad if you were reaching for the sojus

“are you having some?” you asked, without turning your head. you inspected the variety of alcohol on offer, and quickly settled on two bottles of unflavoured soju when he squeaked an affirmative yes in reply.

you quickly trotted over to the pouch drinks section and picked up the peach ade flavour without much deliberation, knowing that itwas jongseob’s favourite flavour, and two packs of peach gummy candies on the way to the counter (jongseob blushed because you remembered..)

he whipped out his card, paid for the drinks and snacks, and followed you like a little duckling to the bar seats by the windows

safe to say, after downing one whole bottle of soju (with barely any peach ade), you were a blubbering mess

“that.. that stupid, stupid, argh!!!” you munched furiously on the gummies, biting off their little heads first before chomping on their little bodies (jongseob almost felt bad for them) “why is he so incompetent?!”

you were referring to the new guy you were training at your workplace. initially jongseob was unsure how to feel about your newest colleague, especially after harbouring a silent, unrequited crush on you for the longest time. but his worries were quickly squashed after hearing you drunkenly curse out this guy’s name, followed by a string of… colourful words

“is it not common sense to… turn.. turn off the steamer after steaming the milk?? or to wipe spills, when you knock over,” you paused to hiccup, “a cup?” another hiccup

an adorable quirk of yours was that you started to hiccup if you drank or ate anything too quickly. jongseob handed you an opened bottle of green tea to slow down your drinking.

“i.. i mean! cmon! he’s so dumb!” you continued your little monologue, arms gesturing wildly - to the point that jongseob had to hold your hands steady and lead the bottle up to your mouth to make sure you were drinking something that was non-alcoholic.

“drink slowly,” he reminded you in an even tone. he kept trying to maintain a neutral expression but he had to admit that you were kinda funny in this drunken state, cute and frustrated

you hummed, listening to him as you stared at him with big eyes, gulping slowly. his adam apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed himself, feeling somewhat self-conscious now that your attention was completely on him

“why are you like this?” you asked after a few sips, suddenly looking like you were sober again

“like… like what?” jongseob asked nervously, like a deer caught in headlights - scared that he did something wrong.

“like this…” your pointer finger came up to poke his chest, and he felt his heart pound under your touch. 

jongseob just stared at you, confused

“just.. just like, you always… you take care of me so good…” you mumbled, finding the prints on his big oversized t-shirt very fascinating all of a sudden

now it was jongseob’s turn to widen his eyes - was this just the alcohol talking? he forced out a nervous laugh. “yeah, you’re always getting in trouble, so i always have to be there for you”

“yeah but, why?”

“cos…” jongseob looked away. between your finger on his chest and your gaze on his face, he couldn’t possibly look at you anymore without blurting out something he might regret. “cos.. youre you, and i’m me, and i’ve known you forever, and we always look out for each other” he began to nervously toy with lid of the soju bottle, unknowingly shaping the metal bit into a heart… “plus im not doing anything, you’re just letting out some steam”

“i get…” another hiccup “i mean i get that.. b-but like…” you paused, raising your open palm in front of his face to steal his attention. “like…”

he understood what you meant immediately and wordlessly poured a few peach gummies into your hands, his own larger ones coming to hold yours tenderly while doing so scream!!

you chewed slowly while in deep thought “like..”

“finish chewing first, y/n..” jongseob reminded, half-teasingly and half-seriously, worried that you might choke

“like! like… ah…” you sighed exasperatedly, taking a big gulp of green tea. you looked like you were solving a math problem in your head, which was concerning, because jongseob knew how much you hated math

“what are you trying to say exactly?” he couldnt help but to laugh at you. there were only a handful of times where he’s seen you get this drunk and every single time it ended up like this - you trying to have a coherent conversation with jongseob and him just playing along with your drunk antics

“seriously? i have no clue.” you said, defeated. with a big exhale, you extended your arms on the table and rested your head on top of it, facing him. you pointed at him again, as he watched you intently. “jongseob.”

“hmm?”

“it’s a disaster”

“what is? your day? i know that already - you just spent the past hour explaining that to me”

“no, well, y-yes, but no…” you trailed off, fingers wiggling accusatively at him while you scrunched up your nose. adorable, he thought. “it’s a disaster.” another hiccup

“why??? y/n, maybe it’s time we get you home…”

“no seobie, dont want to.” you shook your head and body violently in response. “want to stay here with you!”

jongseob felt his entire body tingle with warmth and slight embarrassment, because no way you meant it like that… no way, this is unrequited love after all, right? 

“seobie…” you looked at him, eyes filled with emotions jongseob can’t really figure out. was it a pleading expression? or were you asking for something? he wasnt sure - but one things for sure - he would give you anything you wanted

“...yeah?”

“can you… can we just stay here for a bit? im tired…” you reached out for him with grabby hands, and he complied easily - after all, he would give you the world

your hands gripped tightly to jongseobs, as you started another round of monologues, “you know, sometimes… sometimes i think i just need someone to listen to me. you do that really well. and its like when i tell you about what bothers me, the worries… they just…”

“...disappear?” he finished for you, squeezing your hand in response. he couldnt help it - his neutral facade broke. at the start of the night, he was a little scared and unsure of what to expect. you were hard to read when you were emotional. but now, sitting here next to you in the 24hr convenience store, one bottle of soju and two packets of peach gummies deep into the night, he felt the corner of his lips turn upwards. after all, he would always go along with whatever you wanted

“yeah.” you smiled at him, eyes blinking slowly, as though you were about to fall asleep. after a while, you felt the fatigue seep into your bones and overtake your entire body, and succumbed to its temptations. 

you shifted in your seat to get comfortable and snuggled into jongseob’s arms like a body pillow, pulling him closer and closer to you. it was a slightly awkward position for jongseob, and he could feel the pins and needles starting to prickle on his limbs, but then, after a moment of silence, you muttered something under your breath.

“what is it? do you need something? is it uncomfortable?”

you giggled, his response so characteristic of him. he was always doting on you, always making sure you were alright, always ready at your beck and call. it gave you more confidence to repeat your words: “jongseob, i think im in love with you”

the poor boy nearly choked on air - but held it in so as to not compromise your position. “you… you what? what?”

“i love you, jongseob.” you said, cracking one eyelid open. just to prove your point, you brought his hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand, and then with the accuracy of a tipsy person, you pushed his hand towards his lips.

“there. we kissed, indirectly.” you said, satisfied with yourself, bursting into another round of giggles. 

jongseob, ohmygosh, he didnt know what to do. his brain shortcircuited and he just sat there, letting you laugh at him while the tips of his ears turned bright red

[fcwoso]

Morning motivation · Alexia Putellas

Summary: alexia needed motivation to conquer the day, reader makes a poor attempt and somehow succeeds (fluffy)

MASTERLIST

Alexia was a major perfectionist. Everything had to go well from the beginning of the match until the final whistle. It was impossible, though. Football was an unpredictable sport, but not for the Spanish midfielder. No, she had it under control, that's what she had convinced herself throughout the years as a professional. She felt this intense fear of failure, afraid of breaking the promise she made to herself years ago. She promised to be the best at what’s she’s doing in order to make her family, fans and loved ones proud. Somehow, it turned into an unhealthy mindset, pushing herself to the maximum each time she felt like she didn't do enough.

This mindset got worse when she came back from her ACL injury. Insecurity kicked in once she started to play along her teammates who she currently almost considered as competition. The two Ballon d’Or awards didn’t do enough convincing, even though she saw them every morning right after she woke up. She needed more. She needed reassurance and she found it in you.

‘’Ale, you really need to get up. Training is about to start.’’ You two were currently laying in your bed, Alexia’s alarm had woken up the both of you. She had a match at noon, but Jonatan decided to plan in an early training, just to make sure everyone’s ready and in good form. You heard a small groan leave your lover’s mouth and immediately knew she was having one of those days. A strong arm was resting on your waist, pulling you closer. She wished she could just forget her obligations and continue the nice sleep she was having, but she couldn't. The whole team was counting on her, the captain had to put her own wishes aside in order to fulfill theirs.

You squeezed Alexia’s tense shoulder before stroking her warm cheek, pushing away the streaks of hair that were covering her tired face. You saw an adorable pout forming on the blonde and couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike antics. ‘’Are you seriously laughing at me?’’ She mumbled and finally opened her eyes, face partly disappearing in her pillow. You shook your head before leaning in to press a few gentle kisses on her forehead, making the small frown disappear and decided to keep this closeness.

‘’Of course not, I could never do that.’’ Was the reply that left your mouth, it was an honest one. You could never laugh at Alexia’s misery, as she would call it because that’s how she experienced this chaos. A training bag was laying in the corner of the room, untouched by the woman who’s legs were still entangled with yours under the cozy, warm covers.

You quickly pressed a kiss to her nose to prevent her eyes from closing because you knew how fast she could fall asleep again. ‘’Can we switch for today, bebita (baby)?’’ Alexia began. ‘’I get to sleep in, and you can wear my jersey. You know how much I love it when you do.’’ The distance between you got smaller, non-existent, as she rested her head on your chest and listened to the sound of your heartbeat. You played with her hair and stayed silent, thinking of some encouraging words.

‘’You’re Alexia Putellas.’’ Was the first thing that left your mouth. You heard a small laugh, feeling Alexia’s grip on you loosening a bit as she rested her chin on your chest. Her hazel eyes staring into your serious ones, not completely understanding the context behind the words you just spit out. ‘’That’s me.’’ She nodded. ‘’And?’’ Was the next thing she asked, trying to hide her smile. She got curious, the stern expression on your face not giving away a hint of what you were thinking of.

You shifted your hands from her shoulders to her cheeks and held them firmly while leaving patterns with your thumbs. ‘’That’s it. That’s literally it.’’ You whispered, but suddenly heard a loud laugh leaving the blonde’s mouth. ‘’Wait, this is your poor attempt to motivate me?’’ Alexia couldn’t help but be amused by your words, she knew you were being serious by the look of your face. You nodded and stared lovingly at her, happy you got to see her smile this morning. ‘’You have nothing to worry about.’’ You replied, placing a tender kiss on her lips, hoping to emphasize the message you were trying to convey.

Alexia nodded and thanked you quietly, a small sigh escaping her mouth as she rolled out of bed. She pulled the covers over your form and made her way to the bathroom. ‘’You know, you can still wear my jersey.’’ She winked before completely disappearing from your view, pointing to the part of the closet that was dedicated to her jerseys. That’s what you were planning on doing, but leading the team? No, that was La Reina’s job.

[stariikis]

colour your smile

synopsis ; when riki picks up a paintbrush, two problems surface. for him, it's fear of being unable to portray you perfectly. for you, you have no idea how to counter this fear of his. this fear that is a constant state of unrest in his mind.

pairing ; artist!nishimura riki x muse!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 1097 warnings ; kissing and implied mental disorders

It’s pretty difficult for Riki to encapsulate all your beauty into a painting. 

He’s tried, time and time again. Sat you down in his allocated ‘art studio’ room, a tiny part of the house where the grey walls are splotched rainbow. Watercolour palettes lie uncovered all over the room, one sitting just beside your boyfriend on the wooden bench he’s parked himself on. 

In front of him is a blank canvas – tainted only by the strokes of graphite that sketch the outlines of your features. Wispy hair that partially covers your eyes, your button nose quickly drawn into a nub, and your smile accurately depicted, eager and wide. Riki captures the very essence of who you are, with little effort at all. 

It doesn’t look difficult to you, because he makes it look effortless. Like with one snap of his fingers, he can churn out another portrait of you. But it really seems like he does. To Riki, however, it’s not so easy. He tilts and turns his head, muttering dissatisfied remarks to himself. More often than not, he spends more than an hour sketching you and touching up ‘mistakes’. ‘Mistakes’ that you never even saw. ‘Mistakes’ that look like nothing in your eyes, but make all the difference to your perfectionist of a boyfriend. 

“You know what?” You murmur, slightly tired of having to endure another few hours of him scrutinising your portrait. “Why don’t you just try to paint freely? Without thinking about the quality. Keep your focus on me, paint as if you have nothing to hold you back.” 

Riki finally draws his eyes away from the surface of his canvas. He meets your gaze, looking remorseful as he does so. “I wish I could. But then I’d see all the errors and feel guilty. Wouldn’t you?” 

You slide closer to him from the opposite side of the wooden bench. You gently tug the paintbrush from his fingers, placing it beside the watercolour set that looks horrifyingly dry and crackled. “Are you scared?” 

Deep emotions. You take his hands in your own.

You feel them surging deep inside his veins, the whimsical vibrancy of colour flowing along the current. His imagination is running wild but he’s restricting it himself. Out of fear he’s going to mess up. Afraid it’s going to turn out worse than expected. When he looks away, running a hand through his hair and nodding, you’re hardly surprised. 

“Relax.” 

You whisper into the silence. 

“It’s going to be fine.” 

His fingers start to tremble. 

“Your beauty is too complex to be depicted in a simple painting,” he finally speaks, inhaling deeply from his own confession. “Everything looks grey — it looks so plain and so boring, and your smile there – so not you. I have to make this you, I have to do you and your beautiful smile justice.” 

“One hue off the right colour of your hair already scares me to my depths. Everything is so colourless and bare and empty I can’t even tell these strokes apart.” He runs his fingers along the bumps on the wall, forest green fading into baby blue and a harsh strike of vermillion. “I don’t remember how these came about but I remember they’re strokes of frustration.”

“Frustration?” You urge him, patiently. He’s still distracted, rambling and refusing to meet your eyes. But he’s an artist, and you’ve already resigned to putting up with episodes like these for a while now. At the same time, you understand. In your own way, you are an artist too. The only difference between you and Riki is,

you’re bold and daring. You see all the shades the rainbow has to offer. You complete your pieces without a second thought. Of course, they’re never top quality, but they’re satisfactory to yourself. 

Riki is hesitant. He sees in black and white, occasionally shades of grey bleeding into borderline brown. He feels it’s his duty to reflect and duplicate everything about his object perfectly. Like looking into a mirror, it should properly align with reality. It should elicit appropriate emotion. It should reflect all his object’s best qualities. He should be able to make them shine. 

And when he doesn’t, he lashes out. 

“What if?” He scrunches the apron hanging over his thighs. Lost in thought, you wonder whether he’s coming back down to earth or if his head is still in the clouds. Worrying and worrying and worrying. “What if I can’t do it again?” 

“You need to free yourself…” 

Ironically, you know what he needs the most to free himself, is a long, warm embrace that calms his mind. Bring him back down. Teach him to breathe again. You lean back to snatch the paintbrush and palette, holding it in front of him. His gaze clears and begins to transfix onto the materials in your hand. “This is what you came to do. Is it not?” 

He takes it with a shaky hand and blank stare. 

“I think it looks pretty,” you kiss his cheek quickly and slide back into position. “That’s your intention. I know. I look pretty there.” 

Your heart aches for him. Will he ever shake off his overbearing perfectionism and learn to enjoy the talents and skills he’s been blessed with? 

With adoring eyes, he turns back to the canvas and thankfully begins working on it. You hope the profound sparkle in his eye has signalled a change. Everything falls into routine, and you’re stuck breathing in the same scent of must and dried paint for the next few hours. 

Luckily for you, Riki seems to have let the weight evaporate from his shoulders. He can finally take smiley glances your way to compare his portrait and you. He can lean back with a pleased and impressed glimmer in his orbs. Every once in a while, he gives you and kiss and thanks you for staying so still and remaining so patient. 

You know his words carry more intent than he wants to let show. 

“You like it?”

Three hours later, he finally spins the portrait around and lets you have the first look as the muse. Though many portraits of your face have lined his walls since you started dating, you’re pleasantly surprised to feel something different. Though the paintings may all look similar. Same face. Same eyes, nose, ears, cheeks, hair, moles in the same spots. There’s a hint of confidence emanating from the mish-mash of colours. 

And Riki looks satisfied. 

“I can finally see the colours,” he rasps in excitement, cutely clapping his hands together. “I could finally colour your smile.”

i just got diagnosed with chronic migraines (i'm having one rn but it's because i'm not sleeping) so this is pretty self-indulgent. i am riki riki is me. ALSO. riki's aotm i'm shitting tears

more of my works >

[shytastemakerthing]

Hi!!! Could I request a Azul x reader where they are academic rivals? And the reader is a perfectionist? Thank you so much!! I love your writing so much😭😭 also It’s one of my first times requesting for something so I’m sorry if I didn’t give you enough informations!!

A/N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely love writing for Azul, our lovely octopus man XD, Enjoy!!

This man is also a perfectionist at heart and nothing will convince me otherwise. Between running the lounge, running a dorm, taking care of his schoolwork, and everything in-between, his hands are full and he needs to make sure that everything is in perfect running order should he need to be anywhere else at any given time

He also strives to be the absolute best in everything that he does with that businessman persona he has on at all times, this also means in his academics

So imagine the stunned expression (even if slight) that this man had when he realizes that you two are basically toe-to-toe, or toe-to-tentacle as the tweels love to refer to it as

Now he is obsessed with outscoring you and taking the top once again (sure, he was pretty toe-to-toe with Riddle, but Riddle wasn't you)

From observing your study patterns, your note taking habits as well as the notes that you take, the questions that you ask in class, to your overall ethic when it comes to your academics, the only thing he has determined so far is that you are as much of a perfectionist as he is

Which makes this that much harder, because you will be working just as hard as he does

If not even more

Because there is so much more for you to prove, as a student that came from a completely different world, basically having to start all over with your education in a number of subjects

In a way, he will commend you for that, it is no easy feat , and you seem to be taking it rather well

Anyone else most likely would have lost their minds and given up by now if they were in your place

Which is why he was as shocked as he was when he came out from the VIP lounge one night to see you in a far booth facing one of the fish tanks looking a bit more worse for wear, nursing a shake

He knew the signs and symptoms of stress and anxiety, he could sense it from a mile away, having gone through it himself quite often, as much as he hates to admit it

With the initial intention of possibly being able to offer you a deal (to also make his way back to the top), it seemed to falter the moment that he saw you wipe the tears from your eyes the moment that he had sat down

You had to do your absolute best, learning all of this new information, getting the best grades possible, because you literally had no other choice

You and Grim count as one student, and he knew how Grim was when it came to his academics, so all of the responsibility fell onto you, someone new to this world who knew nothing about it, with the constant threat of being placed homeless, having your food take away, loosing whatever you managed to get... what do you mean you can hardly even afford to eat???

Now he also knows what Crowley puts you through, because the crow knows that you literally have no other choice other than to comply. What would you do? It wasn't like you could just leave. And go where? Do what? You have literally nothing to your name, you are no one in this world

What started out as a way to surpass you soon turned into a mutually beneficial agreement.

And one day, he begins to hope that it turns into something much, much more

Have a wonderful day/night!!

[st4rlvr]

Forced together || KSM

There was nothing more infuriating than Kim Seungmin’s voice.

It was the way he always had something to say, dripping with sarcasm, every word calculated to get under my skin. He didn’t even have to try hard. All it took was that little smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, like he knew exactly how much I despised him, and it fueled him even more.

And unfortunately, he was everywhere.

In class, he was the one who always had the answer to the teacher’s question before anyone else could. During group projects, he was the one who refused to compromise, arguing with me until I wanted to scream. And now, to make matters worse, he was assigned as my partner for the dreaded school charity event.

“How unlucky can I get?” I muttered as I stared at the assignment sheet taped to the classroom wall.

“You mean lucky,” Seungmin’s voice chimed in behind me. “You get to work with me. I’m practically the backbone of this event.”

I turned to glare at him, my jaw tightening. “More like the thorn in its side.”

His smirk widened. “Nice one, Y/N. Did you rehearse that in the mirror this morning?”

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that starting a public argument wasn’t worth it. “Just stay out of my way,” I snapped, brushing past him.

“Not likely,” he called after me, his tone light and teasing.

Forced proximity, as it turned out, really was a writer’s favorite tool. For the next few weeks, Seungmin and I were glued at the hip, planning decorations, organizing volunteers, and managing donations. Every little interaction felt like a battle.

“Those posters are awful,” Seungmin said, leaning over my shoulder as I sketched out a design.

I turned to glare at him, clutching my marker like a weapon. “They’re fine.”

“They’re boring.”

“They’re professional.”

“They’re basic.”

“They’re effective,” I countered, gritting my teeth.

He leaned back, crossing his arms as he studied my work. “Fine. If you want the charity to look like it was organized by an accounting firm, go ahead.”

I wanted to throw the marker at him. Instead, I handed it to him. “If you’re so great, why don’t you show me your brilliant ideas?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow but took the marker, crouching down to the poster. His hand moved quickly, sketching out bold, dynamic lines. I hated to admit it, but the design was… good.

“See?” he said smugly, stepping back. “I told you. Artistic genius.”

“More like annoying perfectionist,” I muttered, but I left the design as it was.

Despite how much we fought, we occasionally found ourselves in sync. One day, as we set up the donation booth, Seungmin handed me a stack of flyers without me asking. Another day, I caught him fixing the garland I’d hung when it started to sag.

It was a rhythm neither of us acknowledged out loud, but I could feel it. The banter turned into something less heated, almost playful.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said one afternoon as we stuffed envelopes.

“What?” I replied warily, glancing at him.

He smirked, holding up one of the letters. “You spelled ‘donation’ wrong. Twice.”

I snatched the envelope out of his hand, heat rushing to my cheeks. “I did not.”

“You did,” he insisted, laughing. “Don’t worry. I fixed it. You’re welcome.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

It wasn’t until the night of the event that everything changed.

The gymnasium was packed with people, the decorations twinkling under the soft lights. I stood by the punch table, surveying the crowd and feeling an odd sense of pride. Everything had come together perfectly.

“You’re staring like you just won an award,” Seungmin’s voice came from beside me.

I turned to him, startled. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be off bragging to someone about how great this all looks.”

He shrugged, his expression unusually serious. “Maybe I just wanted to see how you were holding up.”

I blinked at him, caught off guard. “I’m… fine. Why?”

“You’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks,” he said, his gaze steady. “You should take a break.”

The sincerity in his voice threw me completely off balance. “Are you… being nice to me?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, but there was something softer in his eyes.

Before I could respond, someone called his name, and he walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart inexplicably pounding.

The next day, Seungmin was back to his usual self—teasing, sarcastic, and insufferable. But I couldn’t shake the memory of the way he’d looked at me during the event, the way his voice had softened just slightly.

It wasn’t until we were packing up the leftover supplies that I finally confronted him.

“Why do you do it?” I asked, crossing my arms as I stood in front of him.

“Do what?” he replied, not looking up from the box he was taping shut.

“Push my buttons. Constantly.”

He paused, his hands stilling. Then he straightened, meeting my gaze. “Maybe because I like seeing how much fight you’ve got in you.”

I stared at him, caught completely off guard. “What?”

Seungmin stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “You’re not like everyone else. You don’t just roll over and let people tell you what to do. You challenge me. And, as much as I hate to admit it…” He hesitated, his voice dropping slightly. “I kind of like it.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Are you… complimenting me?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible, Kim Seungmin.”

“And yet, here you are,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze steady.

I didn’t have an answer to that.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as insufferable as I thought.

And so, the lines between love and hate blurred, leaving us in a place neither of us could quite define. But one thing was certain: life was a lot less boring with Seungmin around.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed me? Pt 3

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: stepcest/inappropriate relationships, cheating, kissing, flashback, past minor injury, angry/kinda violent thoughts

Info: honestly ur mom is rlly good at psychological warfare

You ran with Chewie in tow, your lungs on fire as you attempted to get home as quickly as possible. You skid to a stop on the pavement outside your house, the scene unfolding before you hitting you hard. Your mom, stomping out to her car and slamming the door shut. Throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the driveway without even glancing your way. You could physically feel the air blowing past you as she sped off out of the neighborhood.

You walked inside, terrified you’d find a mess. But to your surprise everything was in its place. You unclipped Chewie’s leash and let her roam about inside the house until she found a cool spot on the floor.

You could hear Anakin still working in the garage, he’d turned on some music to keep him company. Maybe you overreacted? She probably didn’t think anything of it right? It’s innocent enough. Anakin is notorious for leaving grease and oil stains in places they should never be. Like the time you painted your palm shoe-polish black just from opening the fridge.

It was nothing. Right? Anakin would be in here upset and waiting for you if something had happened, so everything must be fine. You thought back to your earlier conversation with your mom and recalled how annoyed she seemed about that coding mishap.

Relief spread through you, she was extremely anal about her work. A perfectionist through and through, maybe she’d received word the damage was worse than she originally thought. That would definitely warrant nascar level driving in her eyes.

Even so, you felt the need to placate her when she returned. After a shower and a clean set of comfy clothes you set about cleaning the main floor of the house thoroughly. Scrubbing each surface clean, vacuuming, mopping windex-ing the windows. You even cleared out the leftovers and expired items from the fridge. Going so far as to jot down the items that needed replacing.

Trotting over to the cork board mounted on the wall of the short hall leading to the laundry room and the garage door. This was where everything of importance lived, bills, grocery lists, to-do lists, even a family calendar. Something in red ink had been added to the calendar for tomorrow and you nearly stabbed yourself with a push pin when you read it.

‘Date Night 6:00 @Marzettis’

Written in the ridiculously neat and proper cursive that only could’ve belonged to your mother. If you measured the PSI of your bite force right now, you were one hundred percent sure it would be enough to bite off your mother’s writing hand. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you heard your molars squeak in protest.

Jabbing the list into the cork with the pushpin you let out a breath that you’d been holding long enough to make you alittle lightheaded.

Calm down. They’re married. Married people go on dates. Anakin can’t really reject his own wife can he? No. No he can’t. It’s okay.

You shook out your anger, resolving yourself to ignore the fact that your stomach was churning with nerves and your tongue burned with unspoken venom. There was still things to do. And doing things is good. Scrubbing every centimeter of the bathroom shower with such aggression that you permanently bent the bristles of your favorite scrub brush was definitely a healthy alternative to committing a felony.

Hours passed and Anakin finally returned from the garage sending the current vehicle he was working on back to its owner a full day early. It’s amazing what alittle midmorning pussy pick-me-up can do for a man.

It also probably helped that your tiny arms shaved off at least an hours work of dismantling parts of the engine that were in his way of retrieving the piece he actually needed to extract. Though he’d milk his coincidental success as the result of your passionate rekindling for all that it’s worth. It couldn’t hurt to test out that theory a few times could it?

“Whoa.” He snorted, seeing you to his left scrubbing the inside of the washing machine. “What the hell are you doing?”

You lifted your head a bit too fast and wacked it on the lip of the washer, immediately wincing and bringing a hand to rub the top of your head.

“Apparently I’m doing my damndest to give myself a concussion.” You joked, glancing over at him in his sweaty, greasy clothes.

“There’s this guy who has disgusting laundry, that occasionally leaves residue in the washer.” You dramatically explained.

“So I’m doing him a favor and saving him from an accidental repeat of the fancy hand-towel stain incident of 2020.” You grinned and watched as Anakin mirrored your expression.

“Lucky man.” He chuckled, coming over to give you a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to shower.

Dinner rolled around and you decided to order in, the local Chinese restaurant had the best egg rolls around, and that was just what you needed. You texted your mother to ask for her order and jotted yours and Anakin’s down on a scrap of paper.

~be home alittle late. Just get some Udon for me.~ She responded quickly.

Easy enough. You called in the order and it was delivered and delicious in around 30 minutes. You spread out the feast on the kitchen counter and laughed at Anakin practically drooling over the crab rangoons he was shoveling into his mouth.

“So whens she gonna be home?” He asked, not even bothering to cover his mouth despite chewing like his life depended on it.

“She just said late.” You shrugged, late could mean anything. 10 minutes, an hour; it’s a ridiculous measure of time that you’d always had trouble accepting.

“Well.” He clicked his tongue as he popped open a cold beer from the fridge. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Oh actually, you know what he haven’t done in a while?” You grinned.

“Housewives?” He smirked.

“Yes sir. Take your pick.” You scooped up your take-out box and made a beeline for your favorite seat, the comfy and worn out recliner.

“I’m thinkin’ New Jersey.” He mused, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and searching for your guilty pleasure show.

There’s something comforting about watching someone else’s life like this. Honestly you found it… strangely calming to know that other people have more stressful lives than you. And of course it didn’t hurt that you really loved a bratty cat-fight. Scripted or not, it was undeniably as entertaining as a train wreck.

It would seem that your mother’s definition of ‘late’ was around 45 minutes, she walked in the door as chipper as ever. Doing wonders for your earlier worries; nothing seemed amiss to her.

She took in your comfortable nest of blankets in your recliner, Anakin’s lanky legs draped over the armrest of the couch with his head propped on a pillow. She was… assessing the scene and found no evidence of any foul deeds.

“It was a good idea for take out.” She said, tossing her items on the table. “I’ve missed these noodles.”

“Oh I know.” You agreed. “I saved an egg roll for you.”

“Thanks sweetie.” She said, flashing a blank stare and an empty smile over her shoulder that went unnoticed by the both of you.

“So Marzettis, is that alright for tomorrow?” She asked Anakin sitting on the couch near him with her food.

“That new Italian place?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “That’s the one Obi took Satine to isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” she nodded, seemingly pleased he remembered. “They gushed about it so much I figured it was time we try it.”

“Alright, as long as there’s breadsticks I’m happy.” Anakin smiled.

Meanwhile you were boiling in your seat as you listened to their conversation. Just like in an old cartoon you swore the top of your head would screw itself off and rattle with white hot steam. Honestly, you wished it would. That might just be the only way to get rid of this pressure in your skull without *actually* combusting.

You suffered through their small talk and meaningless conversation about blah, blah and blah. Finally, the episode of Housewives ended and you made your quick egress to your room with a wave goodnight.

You lay awake in bed, planning your to-do list for the next day. You needed to keep yourself busy and entertained to avoid falling victim to the wallowing hole of self pity that is your mind’s way of ‘coping’ with your jealousy.

To-Do:

Wake up

Scream

Nap

Repeat

Perfect.

You woke up, unsure as to when you actually fell asleep; though arguably in a 73% better mood just from the simple fact that you could hear power tools being used in the garage. It was comforting. The noise used to bother you, irk you to the edge of insanity, because who in their right mind would wake up and use the loudest power tools known to man at 6:00am?

Anakin would.

Every time you woke up to the noise, it reminded you of your first kiss, what could be a better way to wake up? Except for maybe an actual kiss from him.

You had stomped from your room to the garage, having been woken up at 6:00am *on summer break* for the previous 4 days. You threw the door open and yelled for him, but he didn’t hear you. Between the loud grinding sound of metal on metal and the earbuds he had in, you had little choice but to pull something dramatic.

Spotting the extension cord you had unplugged it and relished in the momentary silence before hearing Anakin cursing and repeatedly flipping the switch. You stood and observed with a self-satisfied grin, crossing your arms and jutting out your hip as you waited for his small man brain to figure out what happened.

Karma wasn’t something you believed in until right then, because without even looking up he yanked on the extension cord and the hard plastic socket whipped your thigh leaving an almost immediate bruise.

“Fuck!” You yelled, clenching your fists and biting back a string of words so hellish you might’ve burst into flames if you screamed like you wanted to.

Anakin’s head shot up and he ripped out his earbuds, momentarily confused when he didn’t see the source of the very angry curse word. That was until you hissed as you poked at the tender bruise.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, rounding the front end of the car to get to you. “Hey- hey sweetheart, what the hell are you doing down here? It’s awful early for you to be up.”

Oh that was it. That was not the thing to say to you right then. He could’ve called you a crybaby and you would’ve took it better than that innocent comment.

“Yeah? It’s awful early to be using whatever the fuck that thing is!” You grumbled, shaking his hand off your arm. “Do you seriously have to do that this early in the morning? Can’t you do something less… grating?!”

“Do you see any other vehicle here for me to work on?” He deadpanned.

“God you’re insufferable sometimes you know that?” You huffed, looking back down at your leg.

“Did you unplug that grinder I was using?” He asked accusingly.

“Yes I did.” You shot back. “It was getting on my fucking nerves Anakin.”

“Well shit- just let me-“ He sighed trying to pry your hands away from your thigh but you batted him away, swiping a droplet of blood across his wrist.

One of the sharp plastic corners had bit into your skin on impact and caused a teeny tiny nick. Though from the amount of blood trickling down your leg, one would automatically assume you had a proper slice of an injury.

“Baby c’mon just let me see? I’m sorry.” He said in a pained tone, you could tell he genuinely felt bad, even though this was mostly your fault.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” You had scoffed.

“Fine. My liege.” He grumbled sarcastically.

He approached with paper towels and crouched down to swat your hands away and dab gently at the wound, or rather, lack thereof. He attempted to hand you a paper towel to clean off your hand but you declined, anti-politely wiping off the blood onto his dirty work shirt.

“Are you serious right now?” He scowled.

“Are you almost done?” You countered, crossing your arms again.

“Yeah. It’s just a scratch. Turns out every inch of you is just as dramatic as your shit attitude.” He said, standing up, his height making you feel dwarfed.

“Yeah that’s what happens when-“ you started in an angry, belittling tone.

Though you were cut off and the world paused around you. You went stiff as he grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. Before you even registered what was happening top-side, your body had already begun to relax in his arms. His big strong, work-worn hands pulling you into him while he slipped his tongue between your lips. Gliding lightly just behind your top row of teeth before you finally gave in and kissed him back.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed know content when he released your waist to cradle your head with both hands, your own fisting his shirt as you kissed like your lives depended on it.

“Hey! You up?” Your mom knocked loudly on your door and broke the trance of the sweet memory. That 73%? Reduced to 32%.

“Yes.” You huffed and rolled out of bed, unlocking your door and letting her in.

“Great, I want to borrow a dress of yours is that okay?” She asked, heading to your closet before you could even respond.

No way. Absolutely no way. She was not wearing that.

“No. Pick something else.” You said sternly, taking the red summer dress and hanging it back up.

“What why?” She questioned.

“Because it has a hole in it.” You lied, “can’t have you going on your big date like that.”

“I didn’t see a hole.” She countered, going to grab it again.

“Trust me. There’s a hole.” And they’ll be another one: in the ground for her if she didn’t accept defeat on this.

“Fine.” She scoffed and drug out a few more options under your watchful eye.

“This one?” She asked.

“Yeah that one’s fine. It’ll look great.” You forced a smile and tracked her during her retreat down the hall.

As soon as she entered her room you slammed your own door shut and locked it again. You went straight to your closet and got the red dress, folding it and tucking it into the bottom of your sock drawer.

Was she intentionally trying to piss you off? No. She couldn’t have known. No one could’ve known other than you and Anakin. You had been so careful, going out of town for a date at the drive-in while your mom was away on a business trip. You’d worn that dress for Anakin and only Anakin, and you’d never worn it since that night, that first night.

In your state of confusion you didn’t notice the sound of Anakin’s garage noise die down.

Anakin had stopped for a coffee break and came inside, finding his wife at the kitchen counter. He gave her a quick smile and and poured some black coffee into a big thermos.

“Sugar? ‘Sugar’?” She asked sweetly, sliding the large sugar canister across the countertop to him.

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked slowly as if trying to rewind her words. “Yeah okay thanks.”

He shook his head and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in concentrated thought as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. The only person who has *ever* said that to him is you. That’s such a weird coincidence… what are the chances? It’s not like you call him ‘sugar’ any other time either. Only ever for the sake of making him smile when he fixes his coffee.

“Well. I’ll be out here then.” He said awkwardly, still very much miffed by the odd comment.

She ‘mhm’d’ in response, enjoying watching him slink back into the garage with his cheeks tinted in shame.

By the time 5:30 rolled around Anakin was in a nice button-up and dress pants, looking absolutely exquisite. That man really knew how to wear… anything, and nothing too. You had to ogle him from afar, watching his cute butt in those well-fit pants as he walked out the door following closely behind your mother. Who was wearing your dress.

You made a mental note to find an industrial shredder to take care of that ruined fabric when she returned it.

At Marzetti’s dinner was going well, much better than Anakin had expected to be honest. It was almost nice, in a weird way. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty… he couldn’t help but be startled every now and again when he glanced over and didn’t see you across the table from him. You’d love this place, and damn he’d love to see you in it. He just knew the lighting would show off those sexy bedroom eyes you *swore* you never knew when you were making.

The biggest downside was that this place was alittle too expensive to be wasted on your mother. This kind of luxury should be reserved for his princess.

After an hour’s worth of awkward small talk and stupid conversational questions, Anakin got up to use the restroom.

When he returned he was shocked to say the least. The table had been cleared and all that remained was the check, and a thick manila envelope, he hesitantly picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

Fast walking to the front of the restaurant he quickly paid, despite the hostess’s request for him to return to his table because ‘payment is collected at your seat’. He fumbled with his car keys and clicked the lock button to quickly locate his black vintage Camaro… no dice.

He stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, spinning slowly and spotting his parking spot… where the car *should* have been.

“That bitch took my fucking Camaro.” He whispered to himself, internally screaming at himself for being a responsible adult and having a spare set of keys safely stashed away.

He already had an idea of what was in that envelope, but now he didn’t even need to look at the title page. He just needed a goddamn pen.

Final Part

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

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[kyokutsu-sama]

I am sooo glad your requests are back open omg, i missed seeing content from you 🥰. May I pleeease request the Bleach men coming to terms that their girlfriend, even tho is really good in fights, the rest of the time is insanely clumsy (yk, burn/cuts herself when cooking, trips, slips, falls, all that)? I'm most interested in Byakuya, Toshiro, Hisagi and Shinji (if it's not too much😅). Sorry for the long ask 😅💗

A/n : Hii!! It's okay 😊 It was an interesting idea and I enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it ❤️

Byakuya :

He initially admired you, all your strength during battle and all that self-confidence that inspired everyone around you. So far, everything was fine…but when he started noticing you do so much nonsense in a short space of time, he questioned several things. First it was when you fell in the hallway, then it was when you dropped the stack of papers on his desk and not to mention when you stuck your finger in the door when leaving his office. He closed his eyes and put his hand to his face, wondering what level of your clumsiness was. "How can she be two things at the same time?" He thought He doesn't directly confront you with that but will always keep an eye on you to see if you don't get hurt or ruin something doing a simple task. He is careful with you and even offers to help when he knows you can't do something or try to do it and it goes wrong.

Toshiro:

He is very perfectionist, whether fighting or signing a simple sheet of paper. He had a lot of expectations for you when you showed yourself serious on the battlefield, strong and with your head held high. The worst was when he met you on the other side… It was all downhill. There was a time when you went to get some papers from his office and before you even got close to the door you fell and dropped everything on the floor. He felt a wave of revolt inside him, because he had already put everything in order and now everything was a mess. It turns out that he started seeing you being clumsy a lot of times and this confused him because you initially used to be responsible and careful. He tries not to leave you aside in these tasks but he has no other alternative if you continue to be clumsy like this.

Hisagi :

Hisagi thinks highly of you, he admires you and sometimes seeks advice from you when something is not going well. However, like Byakuya, he never stops wondering how you manage to do so much nonsense in such a short time. First it was the fall on the stairs, then it was when you let the food burn or spilled the glass of water on the table. All sorts of things started to make him more attentive to you. He offered to help you so you wouldn't have to do everything alone and that way you would avoid being so clumsy, something you sometimes felt sorry for. He always comforted you and said everything was okay, accidents happen, don't they?

Shinji :

Although he always looks silly most of the time, he trusts in you and your strength. But he not only knows this strong side of you, but also your other clumsy and laughing side, which makes him admire you even more. I have the idea that if he had a really clumsy girlfriend it would be total chaos because I'm sure he could be worse than his partner. However, he doesn't stop laughing at your little accidents, especially if you fall in front of him, so get ready to hear his laughter. The kind of friend who laughs and only after stopping does he help lift you off the ground. He has a shred of mercy and kindness in his heart and that's why he will help you with things, even if he sometimes ends up doing worse. He will make fun of you a lot for this.

[itsnathateasy]

mentor!erwin x reader

warnings: he's mean:( but not really word count: 767 a/n 1: this was kinda requested a while ago but i got carried away due to my serious case of erwin brainrot, so i wrote mentor!erwin as well a/n 2: erwin is being a tough cookie and i'll munch on him with all my might lmao it's not a joke

Erwin is definitely the type to lead you though giving advice and examples. I can imagine him trying not to give you the solution to a problem and you thinking he's being too harsh on you, when, in reality, he's only giving you space to figure things out yourself. And trust me, Erwin won't make it easy for you. He's the type of person to give you all the information you need, then sit back and watch you struggle. When you, finally, manage to complete whatever task he’s put you through, you'd get an almost inaudible "good job, y/n" and a pat in the back, IF he's feeling generous.

Questions like "are you satisfied with this, y/n?" and "if you were in my position, what would you think of this?" were constant in your sessions. It pissed you off so bad, especiall when he was right. Your performance was sloppy more often than not, especially in the beginning of your training with him. You really thought you had it all figured out, but you needed a perfectionist leader like Erwin to point out the obvious: "Your work is rubbish. Do better." But of course, not everyday is a good day, and today was your turn to feel terribly down. Apart from coming down with the flu, you were exhausted and barely got any sleep the previous night. If you could skip the entire day, you would, no questions asked. But Erwin did expect your strategic plans first thing in the morning. He'd also requested a verbal presentation and counter-arguments, in case he could find any flaws in your plans. (He most definitely would find a bunch of mistakes, as usual). Could it get any worse?? Dragging your entire body to his office, you give him the presentation he asked for, to the best of your abilities and with the occasional sneeze and nose sniffing. Turns out, he was quite impressed by your work, except for that one mistake that could turn your entire strategy against you and your team. He points it out with a stern face. And then you snap at him, saying how his assignments are always impossible and how nobody else could solve them anyway. When he came back with "Armin did solve them, y/n" you were out the door, leaving his office without your plans, glaring at him and spitting out a gritted "fine", then letting your used handkerchief fall on his clean floor. (He did not like that part). You neglected your assignments for a few days, mostly spending your time indoors or into the infirmary, trying to overcome your illness. When he asked that you report to his office, you didn't bother to go. You had zero work done and that was worse than failing to him; you hadn't even tried this time. "Sickness isn't enough to neglect your duties" read the written report you received the next morning. "Report to my office, immediately. There's more work to be done". And so you did. Erwin wasn't any different than what you were used to. He was still very strict with you, demanding the best from you and he'd get it, even if he had to pry it out of you. "However hard Armin tried, he didn't solve it, y/n", you gave him a serious side look. "But you said..." you stuttered. "Neither of you solved it and the fault wasn't there. It's a mental exercise and a riddle, a puzzle. It has no solution. But your idea was brilliant." You looked at him in disbelief as you felt your eye twitching. This guy was messing with your head so bad. Why was he mentoring you? "Now get back to work", he said and left the room so you could work in silence. Time goes by and your relationship with your mentor has remained pretty much the same. Erwin writes detailed reports about your performance and how much you've improved over the months. His comments are so praising that when you see how high you've ranked, you're almost confused. Commander Erwin's never spoken an encouraging word to you, yet he's given you some of the highest scores in your year? After some thought on the matter, you decide to thank him personally. His way of leading you helped you become the scout you are today. It was good that he never sugar-coated things for you after all. When you express your gratitude to him, he brushes your words off. "But you've helped me tremendously Commander! I couldn't have done this without you!" "You did this all on your own y/n. Don't doubt yourself or your abilities". (Erwin is such a tough love guy, I love him)

[jerrichoro]

one thing i will never forgive the ace attorney fandom for is the severe mischaracterization and fanonization of manfred von karma. they turned him into an evil harmful abuser and it just makes a weaker narrative overall to me. i dont have any problem with it just being a headcanon because people are allowed to have whatever the fuck they want even if i dont like it but No its considered to be Canon and anyone who likes this character is Bad and its like Babe there is so many other things to hate this man over why do you choose one that is never shown in the games besides Once and that turned out to be a mistranslation and is also from a game that commonly mischaracterized its characters. what are you talking about.

you know what you CAN hate this man over? he was the one that people respected and adored, the one that was considered to be a god amongst prosecutors. he may be cold, stand-offish and a perfectionist, but miles knew he at least cared about him and was his main source of comfort when he needed it. he never knew that he was the one who killed his father and changed his life forever. he never knew that the person that gave him this much love and comfort was the person who made him scared of earthquakes to the point he'd passed out and made him always persistent on taking the stairs. the person who he hugged and cried into the shoulder of being the man who changed it all for the worse.

and for what? because he was a coward. he got scared when his perfect record has it's first penalty - and it wasn't even a loss. he still won. he could've moved on with his life and pretended it never happened. he was still respected amongst prosecutors despite it, after all, it wasn't his fault. yet he just couldn't help it. it was opportunistic and uncalculated. he was filled with such guilt and regret to the point he took in his victim's own son and raised him like his own. knowingly allowed him to cry into his shoulder and told him that it was going to be okay, he's here and that's all that matters when he was the one who took that gun and shot him.

and then people Hate him not because of all of that but because he is an Evil Abuser And Doesn't Regret What He Did At All Because He's Just That Evil.