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#this fic should have been done already but of course i can only write in short bursts smh
plzu · 15 days
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the agonizing back and forth i have with myself when writing something like "no one's gonna want to read this one, dipshit, so just stop writing it" vs "but i really want to write it for self-indulgent reasons and also, like, one person's gotta like it, right? at least one."
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luveline · 5 months
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hiii! i adore you jade so much and can’t thank you enough for all your amazing writing! your fics are incredible! can i have more reader and hotch with their new baby? maybe their night routine takeing care of their newborn? or literally just anything i just love the way you write hotch taking care of both babe and reader! thank you!! xoxo🤍🤍🤍
thank you for your request! fem
“Ready?” Jack asks.
“No. No, no, no!” you cry, giggles slipping through your facade as Jack pelts himself full force from the end of your bed to the pillows where you’re curled. You put your arms out just in time to avoid getting them snapped, catching Jack, and feeling the brunt of his face as he lands on your chest. “Oh! You broke me, Jack. I’m broken!”
“You’re not broken,” Jack says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your neck.
“You better not be breaking your stepmom, Jackers,” Hotch says from the bathroom. “I’m not getting you another one.”
“Boo!” you say.
“I don’t want another one,” Jack declares, still gasping for breath as he presses your faces together.
You pull him in for a cuddle. “Good, baby, I love you too much to be replaced. And I don’t mind dad either.”
“Jack, you gotta stop jumping on her, remember? She just had a baby. It really hurts to have a baby, and it hurts afterwards to get better. Gentle hands,” Hotch says, pulling the bathroom door open completely, the baby bathed and changed in his arms.
Hotch has cared for a baby before, so while you’re not useless, the majority of things have defaulted to him while you recover. You’re lucky, even if it’s how a woman should be treated —Hotch hasn’t made you get up once since you came home almost a week ago. He’s forced you to sit down a few times, actually. And you’d told him how thankful you were for it in whispers only yesterday night, grateful to be cared for with so much dedication.
I should've been better, for Haley, he’d whispered back. She was amazing all by herself when she didn’t need to be. You’ll be amazing too, but we’re gonna do it together.
Maybe he’s overcompensating for past regrets, maybe he’s just looking after you.
Jack strokes your cheek with a little hand. “Sorry. I don’t want to break you.”
“You won’t.” You lean back and attempt to bring him in with you, but Jack won’t be contained.
He springs down off of the bed to crowd Hotch’s legs, face up and smiling. “Dad, are you done?”
“I am.”
“Can you help with the robot now?”
“Yeah, yes. Sorry, I’m gonna fix your robot. You ready, honey?”
You open your arms eagerly. You’ve had a hug from Jack, and Hotch held you under his arm while you were eating your lunch, so all you need now for the trifecta is a cuddle with your baby. One day he’s gonna be able to hug you back, but for now he stretches out in the well of your arms and coos when you kiss his tiny forehead.
Hotch and Jack leave to fix their robot. You slink down, further and further, too tired and sore to want to sit, sliding the baby’s weight into one arm beside you and leaning down to watch him smack his lips. The few baths he’s had have made him tired each time. You feel sleepy just looking at him.
You’d hope that the baby will be handsome like his brother, though Jack looks so much like Haley they probably won’t be very similar. There are hints of Aaron in them both. Babies look like babies, sure, but he has the Hotchner nose. You can tell already.
“My handsome handsome boy,” you sing-song under your breath. He sniffles. You bring your pinky to his nose and give it a gentle touch. “Beautiful baby. I love you.” Your voice turns to sugar. “I love you, baby, you’re so beautiful, just like daddy.”
Footsteps creaking on the landing. You quieten without looking away from the baby, until you feel a familiar hand on your arm. “You okay?”
“Did you fix the robot?”
“Of course I did.” He leans down and in, lips and nose pressing to your arm. “Are you okay? You look tired.”
“I am tired. Maybe I’ll nap while he’s sleeping.”
“That’s a good idea. Give him a kiss and I’ll put him back in the crib.”
“No, no, can’t he stay?”
“You want me to stay here and watch you sleep?” he asks, laughing into your arm, pressing another kiss in a path toward your shoulder. “You can keep him until you fall asleep, okay? Then I’ll move him.”
“Will you do that thing to my cheek?” you ask quietly.
“If you tell me what you were saying before I walked in, yes.”
Hotch sits on the bed behind you where you’re sidled up to the baby, the back of his hand falling gently against your cheek, fingers curled and knuckles brushing the skin just shy of your eye one tender centimetre at a time. “Well?” he prompts.
You close your eyes with a contented smile. “Was just telling him he’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah?” He turns his hand, his pinky finger rubbing the delicate skin under your eye briefly, and the his palm flat to your face. His thumb takes up the guard. You feel fatigue pulling at you from the sheer comfort he offers, though you can manage a few more words, at least.
“He’s beautiful, he has his daddy’s nose.”
“I don’t think that’s what makes him so handsome.”
“No?” you mumble.
Hotch lets his face rest again on your arm. “No, that’s his mother. Couldn’t be anything else.”
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kikyan · 1 year
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Confession
CW: Yandere content means yandere content y’all, stalking, dub-con/non-con, masturbation, disgusting themes, panty stealer, fingering, oral (receiving), overstimulation, breeding themes(slightly?), creampie, power bottom Idia, slight masochist Idia, kidnapping, shit ass writing, I think that’s all, etc… 
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Character: Idia Shroud x GN! Reader
Word Count: 7.2K words 
A/N: This is a birthday fic for one of my IRL besties, an Idia simp. Another thing, this is a yandere blog so it’s not canon to their personalities at all but more my interpretation of them if THEY were yanderes. So take that as you will! This is with a GN reader so there is no anatomy assigned or pronouns other than they/them (I did proofread it but lmk if there are any errors!)
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‘ Click’ 
‘ Click’ 
Yellow eyes darted across from the screens as he was looking at the contents. Classes were over and his homework was completed quicker than he used to have it done. He was still a housewarden with duties and responsibilities after all, besides he needed the rest of the day free to partake in his favorite hobby. Stalking [Reader] of course. He could access several cameras from different angles as he attempted to track them down. 
‘ Where are they? Their class ends around this time and they usually stay a bit longer in the classroom to wait for the freshman and Grim. They’re taking too long. . .shit! Did I miss them? Did they already leave?’ 
Idia frantically typed away at his computer to try to locate them. After a couple of tries, he found [Reader] and Grim, with the freshman of course, walking out of their classroom. Sighing in relief, he continued to observe as normal. Unfortunately, these cameras were limited as they had no audio but it would do for now. 
‘ So they DID stay longer in the classroom. Phew, good thing nothing has changed so far.’ 
The screens were the only source of light in his room as his lights were turned off. He didn’t have any club activities today so he there was no need to leave his room. He sat on his desk chair while holding his knees to his chest. Raising his thumb to his mouth, he bit down on the tip of his nail. How did it come to this? 
~
“We’re going to be late! Crap, where is the housewarden?”
“Doesn’t he have his club? Do you think we can leave it with Ortho?” 
“Uh maybe. . .man why did Professor Trein dump this on us? If only Idia attended in-person classes, but oh well. Oh, wait-[Reader]!” 
[Reader] was walking through the hallways, but turned when they heard their name was called out. There were two students, from the Ignihyde dorm looking stressed. 
“Yes?” 
“Sorry for this, but could you do us a huge favor? Professor Trein asked if we could drop these papers with Houseward Idia, but we can’t find him! Not to mention, we’re already late for our club activities enough as it is! We’ll make it up to you, promise!” 
“Hm, sure I don’t see why not. Not like I have anything better to do, give them here.” 
Sighing in relief, the students wasted no time in handing the documents over to [Reader]. 
“Gosh, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much, both Grim and your meal are on us!” 
The students turned and ran off to their club. Leaving [Reader] alone. 
“Grim would appreciate that, it sure saves me money for one day knowing his appetite. Anyways, just where is Idia?”  
[Reader] debated going over to the hall of mirrors and just entering the Ignihyde dorm but they decided against it. It would be too much work if Idia were still on the main campus grounds and they were in their dorm. Was Idia even in a club? If he was, it would be worth it to check some classrooms in case he was. Thinking back on it, it wouldn’t seem likely but it didn’t hurt to check. [Reader] had been walking for about 20 minutes, popping inside classrooms just to survey the area. To no avail, Idia was not in the classroom. 
“Just where could he be? Maybe I should head over to his dorm. Oh, hey Azul!” 
Azul was walking on the opposite side and [Reader] ran up to meet him. 
“Ah, [Reader]. What a coincidence, I would have figured you had returned to your dorm by now.” 
“Normally I would have, but I’m helping some classmates drop off some documents. Hey, this may be a stretch but by any chance, do you know where Idia might be?” 
“ Idia? Oh why, yes I do. He’s still in the classroom. We just finished up our game board club meeting. He lost to me so he’s staying back to finish cleaning up. Why?” 
“He’s the one I’m dropping the documents off to. So, where is the club room?” 
“ Down the hall, turn right and it’s the second door on your left.” 
“ Thank you, Azul! I’ll see you around, kay?” 
“Of course. If you however require my services sooner, you know where to find me.” 
“Nice try, but at the moment I’m not interested in making a deal right now.  Maybe later if I forget to study for an exam.” 
“But of course, take care.” 
Azul left back to his dorm, leaving [Reader] to seek out his directions to the club room. When they arrived, they opened the door to see Idia sitting at the desk on his phone. 
“Oh hey, Idia-” 
Idia jumped in his desk, whipping his head around to stare at [Reader] in a frazzled state. 
“W-what a-are you doing h-here!?” 
“Calm down Idia, not here to hurt you. Anyways, someone asked me to drop off these papers to you. One of your housemates. Anyways, what are you doing?” 
“You c-can leave them on the t-table.” 
Idia’s eyes avoided [Reader’s] and he ignored their question. [Reader] walked closer, leaving the documents on the table as asked. They turned to look at his screen, looking at all the graphics displayed on the screen. 
“That looks interesting, what’s this about?” 
“It’s a game. . .” 
“Right, I can see that. What is it about?” 
Idia continued to advert his gaze, muttering under his breath under the assumption that [Reader] could not hear him. 
“Like you would care. . .” 
“I would actually.” 
A snarky and slightly offended response left [Readers] unamused face. Idia let out a squeak, he didn’t think [Reader] would hear that. [Reader] let out a huff, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Idia. 
“Idia, you know I’m not from here right? I don’t know much about media and franchises here in Twisted Wonderland, but I was interested in content like this back in my world. So humor me, what is this game about?” 
Though he was still unable to look them in the eye, not that [Reader] minded, he continued to explain the game franchise. 
“It’s an adventure-based role-playing game following an adventure party on a mission to take down the demon king. The party consists of characters that you get to pick, unlike most games where you’re given a party member. This game is different because it relies on your choices to advance as well as you making your combat type distinct. It has an online server where you can complete side quests while the main story updates.” 
He spoke fast, never sparing a glance at [Reader]. He was just waiting for them to become uninterested or to look at him in annoyance. He was waiting for the insults and the questionable glances of ‘you’re weird’ and ‘fucking loser’. 
“Hm, so it’s a fantasy-based combat game. Does this mean that all the party members are different fantasy races? I’d like to see the party members that you can pick, or do you get to customize them as well?” 
“ O-oh u-uh. . .” 
Idia has always seen the negative side of everything, but being realistic he didn’t give you enough credit. Sure, most people stop listening after that initial description but a few brave soldiers still stick around until he continues. He’d surely lose your interest with his extensive knowledge of the game's lore. 
“Well, not exactly. You can make your character, but the other party members are already designed and have a story to go with them. All you do is equip weapons and artifacts to strengthen them.” 
“Oh, I love customizable characters. Can I see yours?” 
Alright, so you’re one of those few brave soldiers who may be interested in a nerdy ramble. Idia began to click and swipe at his screen, eventually passing it to [Reader]. [Reader] began to inspect the character, looking at all the features that Idia placed on them. 
“Woah, they look badass. I like your character’s style, but it looks like they aren’t human-like. Are they fantasy-based characters? What kind?” 
Idia couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but his face softened and went from stoic to a more relaxed one. His eyes began to shine with passion as he began to talk about his character, gaining [Reader’s] undivided attention. [Reader] nodded and paid attention when he spoke, asking questions about the game’s lore and characters. Idia answered all their questions with a more enthusiastic chirp, throwing some jokes here and there. The atmosphere changed from tense to a more comforting one as they continued to speak losing track of time. 
“. . .but you don’t meet this fantasy race until act III in the game, even then they’re an antagonistic species until you clear the next three acts, that’s when it clears up. Eventually, you can add this character to your party or can update the way your character looks after-” 
The sound of the classroom door opening snapped Idia from his daze, and he turned to look at the door. 
“Idia, here you are!” 
“Ortho. . what are you doing here?” 
“Idia, it’s been three hours since you were supposed to be back. I came to see where you were. Don’t you remember, the new update for the game was dropping later tonight?” 
“Three hours. . .?” 
[Reader] and Idia panicked, both scrambling up from their chairs, 
“ Oh my gosh, I had no idea time went by so fast. I need to get home and do my homework!” 
“I forgot about my game! S-sorry, I probably bugged you with my spiel-” 
“Not at all, Idia! Honestly, this game sounds cool I might check it out. Well, I wish I could considering I don’t have a platform to play it. Crowley is very stingy with what he gives out. I don’t even have a phone to use, or else I would have asked for your contact info. I’ll catch you later, hopefully maybe one of these days I can see you in class. Take care, Ortho!” 
[Reader] patted Ortho’s shoulder before leaving the classroom. Ortho nodded enthusiastically, wishing [Reader] the same. He turned around to where Idia was standing. Idia was quiet, his eyes wide, and on his face was a dopey grin. His cheeks were lightly flushed, adding color to his pale skin. 
“ Iida? What’s wrong?” 
“Ortho, I’m going to class tomorrow.” 
~~ 
It had been roughly two months since that encounter. Idia never expected it to get this bad. They kept their promise, and [Reader] continued to talk to him even if it was after class and in private. He knows they didn’t mean anything bad by it, but he loved the idea of being their little secret. Held occasional yet school-related conversations in public, but the moment the class ended [Reader] and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, they would come over to the Ignihyde dorm to play games with him or indulge in certain content and media. Ortho was very excited, not only was he able to see his brother form a friendship with someone so close instead of online, but he could also see his brother having a slightly more positive outlook on life. However, he remained haunted by the grim reminder that he would be head of the S.T.Y.X organization and wouldn’t be able to enjoy the luxuries he was experiencing now. Despite all that, he was smiling a lot softer and looking forward to the next meeting. So in other words, everything was content and alright. There was no need for him to hijack the cameras to stalk [Reader], but he did it anyway. 
“Well, no matter. What’s done is done. Now I need to make sure they get home safely.” 
Idia softly smiled at the cameras, looking at [Reader] talking to Grim. They had a smile on their face as well, no doubt teasing the poor kitty. 
‘ They’re so pretty. . .hopefully they like my surprise.’ 
[Reader] was walking with the freshman to the Ramshackle dorm. They were going to drop off some stuff before heading out to the hall of mirrors. As they arrived at the entrance, they were greeted by a ghost. 
“Good afternoon, [Reader] and Grim! How were your classes?” 
“ Afternoon! Nothing too busy, but we just got assigned a major project.” 
“Man talk about annoying, Riddle kept reminding us how important this project was for the freshman.” 
Ace complained with Deuce sharing a similar face of dismay, clearly stressed about the project itself. 
“Vil was the same, he said that I could not afford to get a low score and tarnish Pomefiore’s reputation. This must be a pretty serious project.” 
Jack rubbed the back of his head, “Leona hasn’t mentioned anything yet. If all your housewardens are saying something no doubt when I get back to Savannaclaw he might mention it.” 
“If the project must be this serious, then I cannot score anything but the highest marks! The pride of Diasomnia, no. . .the pride of Malleus-Sama rests on my shoulders!” 
“Cool, anyways. . .” 
The rest of the group disregarded what Sebek was spouting about. The ghost chuckled, before leaving to the living room and returning with a package in hand. 
“Someone came by to drop this off. We don’t know what it is or from whom. There was no name on the package.” 
“Oh, for us?” 
“Seems like it.” 
Curiosity spread among them as they were all devising in their heads what it could be. 
“You don’t think it’s a. . .no it couldn’t be!” 
“But it might be. . .” 
“It might be a what?” 
Grim turned to Ace and Epel who shared mischievous smiles, “Oh you know. . .” 
“Pay them no mind, Grim. They’re just trying to scare you.” 
Deuce waved the two off and reassured Grim that it was all right. [Reader] examined the box, shaking it a little. It felt heavy, but there was no sound with the shake. It might either take up the whole box or it might be very secure. They walked inside their dorm with the others following suit. They sat on the couch and proceeded to open the package. Ripping open the box, they turned to see that it was a new phone. 
“A phone. . .?” 
“ WOAH! NOT JUST A NEW PHONE, IT’S THE LATEST MODEL!” 
Everyone exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers. 
“It is. . .?” 
“Hm, you don’t suppose Crowley got it for us do you?” 
Grim turned to look at [Reader] who scoffed at the idea, 
“Hell no, since when has that man cared for us?” 
“Fair enough, but who do you think it was from?” 
“ Not sure. .  .” 
“ Well whoever it was, they must be loaded!” 
Ace pointed out, [Reader] looking up at him. 
“Surely it can’t be that much...  could it?” 
“It’s over 200,000 Thaumarks!” 
“THAT MUCH!?” 
Grim and [Reader] turned to each other in shock. There was no way Crowley would cough up that much money for them, surely this was a mistake. 
“ Do you think they maybe got the wrong address?” 
“Nope! The postman that delivered it said the package was addressed to a [Reader].” 
“So who could be this generous patronage?” 
“Who knows, but whoever it is. You better take care of that as your life depended on it!” 
“ Got it, maybe I can ask Idia how to set it up. Surely it can’t be too different than the models back in my world, but if it is that much I can’t risk it. Alright, let us go now.” 
“ Do you guys want to go to Monstro Lounge to eat and talk about the project?” 
Sharing nods, everyone set off to Monstro Lounge. Idia was observing through the cameras, looking to see everyone entering the Octavinelle dorm. The moment he saw [Reader] enter, he stood up and made plans to leave his dorm. He closed off all the cameras and locked his room to be safe. He turned to the door, preparing to enact his plan. He left the Ignihyde dorm, turning to the path to the Ramshackle dorm. He walked at a brisk pace. It was the perfect time, no one was near or around to see him. Upon arriving at the dorm, he turned to peek inside the windows. Luckily, the ghosts that were occupying the house didn’t seem to be near. He pulled out a key and swiftly unlocked the door. He remembered one time when he swiped their keys and made a copy of them. Casually returning them to [Reader]. He climbed up the stairs and entered their room. Looking around, he could see a very plain room. Nothing too out of the ordinary but he didn’t mind, he knew that [Reader] was hardly getting any funds from Crowley. That was why he gave them the phone, something to be able to reach them faster. Though the room was plain, there was something that did manage to catch his eye. [Reader’s] used clothing hamper. His breath hitched, slowly and carefully making his way to it. Fear that the slight movement could alert someone, even though he was alone(or was he?). Once he made it across, he peered inside. Just normal clothing, sleeping garments, and so forth. The one thing that did make him turn red, was the sight of [Reader’s] used undergarments. 
His throat was dry as he debated reaching in and taking. What would they think of him? Would [Reader] look at him in disgust? Here he was, a pervert thinking about taking the used underwear of the one he loved. Who knows what he was going to do with them? Idia shook his head, reaching in swiftly and swiping the used underwear. He shakily raised them to his face, placing the crotch area close to his nose. He inhaled deeply, [Reader’s] scent quickly invading his mind. His pants began to feel tight and his dick was hard. He was lost in a trance until he heard a voice come from the living room. 
“I wonder who could have gifted the phone to [Reader]. Do you think they have a secret admirer?” 
Idia’s eyes widened as his body temperature rose. He was horrified, beyond terrified. Tears began to well, he was going to be caught! Idia quietly scrambled to the hallway but skillfully remained undetected as he peered over the stair railway. All the ghosts were in the living room, but they weren’t near the front door. If he played his cards right, he could make it out of the dorm without bringing too much attention to himself. Idia began to walk down the stairs, luckily the ghosts were too into their conversation to hear the creaky stairs. Idia shoved the used garment into the pocket of his jacket. 
“ If they had a secret admirer, do you think it might be that fae boy who sometimes comes here at night?” 
‘The WHAT!?’ Idia internally screamed. Fae. . did he mean Sebek? Sebek knows better than to appear at night, so was it the devilish third-year Lilia Vanrogue? Sure he was an eccentric one, but even he would have morals. Idia was close to the front of the door.  Idia was so into his thoughts, that he failed to notice the ghost that was standing near the gate. The ghost turned around, with a surprised look asked, 
“Are you here for [Reader]?” 
Idia let out a squeak, holding both his arms in a defensive stance. The ghost noticed this and quickly assured him that he did not mean any harm or to spook him. 
“Didn’t mean to scare you, but [Reader] isn’t here right now. They’re at the Monstro Lounge working on a project with some peers.” 
“O-oh. . .I see. . .” 
Idia knew they weren’t here, but couldn’t raise any suspicion. The other ghosts soon came to the front door, staring at Idia. 
“Oh, what’s this? Are you a friend of [Reader]?” 
“I-I u-uh. . .d-did [Reader] get the package?” 
“ The package? Oh! Are you their secret admirer?” 
Way to go Iida, he was digging a deeper hole for himself. 
“A-a friend of mine a-asked me to make sure they got it. . .” 
His gaze was adverted to the side and his fingers were twiddling. 
“They did it! By any chance, can we know the name of your friend? Tell us, do they like [Reader]?” 
“ Y-yeah s-something like that. T-they’re a little shy so. . .well then, that’s good. U-uh, I’m going to leave n-now. . .” 
“ Take care, be safe walking back to your dorm!” 
The ghosts all wished him safe travels. Idia nodded and began to walk slowly, once he was away from the ghost’s sight of vision he scrambled back to his dorm. 
“You don’t think he was. . .?” 
“Maybe, but wait. . . isn’t he the one [Reader] likes?” 
~
Idia managed to make it to his dorm without being spotted. He entered his room and locked the door. Once he caught his breath, he made it to his bed and plopped down. He was tired, hopefully, the ghosts didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and remained still for a brief moment before he turned, feeling the fabric of his pants rub against his hard-on. 
‘Oh’
His cheeks reddened and his hair changed from a blue to a purple shade, close to pink. He reached into his pocket, taking out the used underwear. His other hand went to his pants, slowly freeing his hard cock. His breath hitched, he placed the used underwear up against his nose and inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled back at [Reader’s] scent and his free hand went to his dick, wrapping around it. Pre was already forming at the tip, he rubbed his cock up and down slowly, starting a soft pace. 
“Fuck. . .” 
His lidded and glossy eyes stared on, he slowly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He gave a long striped lick, tasting whatever remained on the underwear. Whatever little control he had broke, he began to gradually fist his cock as he inhaled and exhaled. He was constantly giving licks as well, his body was moving on his own. He rolled over and entangled his legs with his bedsheets. He let the underwear fall on the pillow and dove nose-first into it. With his right hand, he began to grip the sheets. He rutted into his fist. His mind wandered to [Reader], how would they feel. If they saw him right now, what would they say? Would they call him a disgusting pervert? How dare he get off on your used underwear. How pathetic he is, rutting into his hand thrusting into his bed trying to find the right pace and friction to get off. Fucking pathetic, look at this loser jerking off to the idea of even being able to touch you. 
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-oh fuck-!” 
He imagined if [Reader] was into it as well. Would they step on his disgusting dick? Would they tease him, call him all kinds of names? Would they make him fuck himself before he even had the chance to fuck them? Idia was thankful for his pillow, other than being able to rest the used underwear so that he could smell and taste as much as he wanted. He was also able to hide his pathetic moans and whines. He was drooling, eyes rolling back and tears welling up. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna-shit I’m gonna come-” 
How their warm insides would feel. How their hole would clamp and clench around his dirty and pathetic cock. Imagine how it would feel to relentlessly fuck them. 
“W-wanna touch them, w-wanna fuck y-you, [R-reader]!? W-wanna c-come i-inside you-ha fuck!?” 
Would they let them come inside? How it would feel, leaving his warm thick sticky cum inside them. When he’d pull out he’d see the thick glob that left their used and abused hole that was stretched out just for him. 
“C-Cumming!??” 
Idia’s eyes rolled back as his back arched, his right hand gripping the sheets and his knuckles turning white, blowing his load into his hands. His cum shoots out to stain his bedsheets. His cum was warmer than average, how would they feel? Would they feel warm and satisfied? Sweat was coating his skin and he struggled to catch his breath. His left hand released his now limp dick and his right let go of the bedsheets. He lifted his body, getting on his knees and he looked at the pillow and [Reader]’s now soiled underwear. 
“I l-love you so much. . .[Reader].” 
[Reader] kept true to their word and turned to Idia for help setting up their phone. 
“Oh, okay so I do this right?” 
“You’re no better than a noob finally learning how to use a handheld console.” 
[Reader] sent Idia an unamused look, but let out a laugh. Idia smiled, but changed his face the moment [Reader] turned to look up again at him. 
“It’s standard, it’s similar to most models back in my world though some features are completely new. Hey Idia, can I ask you a question? Is this really the latest model and  worth 200,000 thurmarks?” 
“It’s the latest model and now it’s super rare. Those who preordered one when the sale dropped months ago were 100% guaranteed one with a small percentage that they would be sold in stores. They only released a few in-store ones so if you didn’t get one then, it’ll be months before you get one.” 
“Woah, so it’s that special? Ace was telling me all the new stuff it was supposed to have but I just nodded and went with it.” 
“Here.” 
Idia handed [Reader] their new phone back, stuck on the contact screen. The contact read his name, ‘Idia Shroud’, with his phone number saved on it. 
“So now you can reach me. M-maybe play the game now. . .”
“Thank you Idia, I was going to ask you about that too by the way. Do you mind if I lie on your bed?” 
“Hm, no I don’t-WAIT YES I DO!” 
Idia’s scream rang through his room. [Reader]’s eyes widened as they backed away from his bed. 
“S-sorry, my bed is. . .messy.” 
“Oh, I really don’t mind but if you do that’s fine. I can just sit here unless you don’t want me to?” 
“N-no no, there is fine.” 
Idia calmed down, scooting over to [Reader] to explain how to download the game and how to set it up. 
It was like that, consistently for another two months. Idia wasn’t sure what to do, he had planned on confessing but how. Every time he thought it was the right time, someone just had to take [Reader’s] attention or ruin it for him. They could never understand them the way he did. After months of observing [Reader], playing games with them, and sharing deep meaningful conversations, Idia was the only one who could understand them. That’s what he believed, so why was it so hard to be able to confess them? No one was able to understand them to the capacity that Idia could and certainly, no one was worthy of them. Granted Idia himself didn’t feel worthy, but if he was the worm crawling underneath their shoe the other’s were the smears on the concrete. Idia huffed in annoyance, he was typing along to his online friend, Muscle Red. 
Gloomurai: Can I vent to you about something happening IRL
Muscle Red: Of course, what’s wrong? 
Gloomurai: How do you confess to someone you like? 
Muscle Red: Oh, relationship issues? 
Lilia scratched his head, geez. This was an awkward situation, it’s been a while since Lilia courted someone. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with the conversation but he was young once so it couldn’t be too hard.
Gloomurai: Not really considering there is no relationship yet, it’s more like I like someone but can’t bring myself to confess to them. 
Gloomurai: When I want to, something always happens like the universe doesn’t want us to be together. 
Muscle Red: I don’t think that's the case. I think you may need to set up a scenario where you are completely alone to confess, so you don’t have any interruptions.
Lilia winced a little when he read that back, it didn’t sound okay at first. Hopefully, Gloomurai doesn’t look too into it. 
Gloomurai: It’s a little hard, they’re quite social. Almost everyone wants to talk to them. 
Muscle Red: I’m sure if you asked to speak to them about a personal matter, they might set time aside to hear you out. Maybe that is when you confess? 
Gloomurai: I’d probably stutter over my words to get it out, they’re just too cool. . .
Muscle Red: How did you meet them? Is this a close friend or? 
Gloomurai: You could say that. They like the same stuff I like, we became friends with mutual interests. 
Lilia let out a breath of relief. Unlike back then where you either knew the person from growing up together or being interested in them because of one interaction, common interests bonded people. So this should be easy. 
Muscle Red: Hm, so then they probably know you and will feel more comfortable being near a familiar face. When trying to court someone you may want to start with a small gesture of kindness and trying to find time alone to be able to confess to them. That was how most of the time it worked then, but since this is a close friend they might already be able to pick up signs. [MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 
Muscle Red: You may have to be bold. Do something that they might never expect from you. Try to get them to see you in a different light than just a friend. If you’re able to do that then surely you can win them over, who knows maybe they’ll fall for you just as much. 
Muscle Red: Do something that still falls within their comfort level to show that you still care and know certain things about them. I think once you’re able to show them how you care for them but also make them see you, I think that helps a lot. They already like spending time with you and enjoy common interests, so really, it shouldn’t be too hard. [MESSAFE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 
Gloomurai: So try something bold, something that makes them notice my feelings for them? 
Muscle Red: Exactly. 
Gloomurai: Hm, thank you. I think I know what I should do. Thank you for this, really :)). Thank you for helping me defeat the boss too lol. C U!
Muscle Red: see you! 
Gloomurai left the chat. 
Muscle Red left the chat. 
Lilia looked to the bottom right screen on his PC, looking at the symbol representing the internet. 
“My, of all times it seems that the internet went out. Hopefully, they were able to read my messages and understand what I was trying to say. Oh well, they seemed to understand so hopefully it helps. Ah, young love certainly never fails to move my heart. Now, onto the internet.” 
And so, that is where we find ourselves now. Idia was pacing around his room, biting his nails and muttering to himself. 
‘Shitshitshitshitshitshit, what do I do? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?’ 
[Reader] was sleeping soundly, snuggling into the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t their room and if they were to wake up, surely they would panic. The last thing [Reader] remembered was resting peacefully in their bed with Grim cuddling next to them. 
“I did use a pretty strong spell, hopefully, they wake up soon. . .” 
Idia peered over to see [Reader] they were still unmoving. He nervously made his way to them, getting on his bed and slowly crawling to them. The bed sank with his added weight, but nonetheless, they did not waver. He eyed their body, their features. Their chest was slowly rising with their steady breathing. Idia swallowed hard, his fearful expression didn’t leave his face either while he shakily extended his hand to touch [Reader]. His hand grazed their skin and his cold fingers met their warm skin. Tracing his finger from this shoulder to their forearm, touching their forehead and caressing their cheeks. He stopped breathing, afraid that it would ruin this soft moment for him. His eyes trailed down, to their chest. He removed his fingers from their cheeks and instead began to trail from their collarbone to their chest. With deep breaths and a flushed face, he started going lower. From their chest to their stomach, to their hips, and eventually, their crotch. 
“You’re so pretty. . .wanna see you more. . .” 
Idia lightly rubbed at their crotch, lazily stroking up and down. He didn’t intend to do anything and he certainly didn’t expect to hit any major pleasure zones. Idia continued to touch, not really doing much. He wondered if they were awake, what would they do if they saw him like this? Surely they would scream, be disgusted, and threaten to hurt him. 
‘Be bold’ 
Idia nervously looked over to [Reader]with their eyes still shut. He looked over at their legs, placing his hands in the middle and prying them open. His head peeked up again, no movement. He got on his knees at the foot of his bed, dragging [Reader’s] legs down too. Idia placed his hand on their bottoms, dragging them agonizingly slow. He managed to take them off without stirring them and he left them in just their undergarments. Idia began to drool at the sight but he knew the surprise was waiting underneath the undergarments. Reaching above, he pulled them down swiftly and looked. [Reader’s] sex was exposed and visibly aroused. His cold fingers went to touch their most sensitive bit, lightly tapping it. Trailing their finger up and down, they noticed their hole clenching around nothing. 
“What I would give for you to think of me touching you in your dreams.” 
Idia shakily moved his face to their sex, giving it an experimental lick. Trailing to their hole, licking around the area. He removed himself and began to such on his fingers, once they were coated with his saliva he moved them to their hole. Inserting his middle finger inside. Idia let out a soft squeal when he felt their hole clench around his finger. 
“F-Fuck. . .y-you’re so tight. . .” 
Inserting his finger in and out, creating a soft pace and causing enough lubrication to insert another finger. Idia let out a small chuckle, 
“It’s like you’re greedy hole is devouring me. . .I wonder what you’re dreaming about, [Reader].” 
As Idia continued fingering [Reader], they turned to their sensitive bits and began to lick up and down, pressing light kisses on them. He continued to do this for a bit, lightly teasing them and pumping his fingers inside them. He began to suck and that’s when he noticed it, their body twitched. Thinking it was from pleasure, he continued to tease and explore their body. Their sensitive bits were being toyed with, sucked, licked, pinched, and stroked while he fucked his fingers into them. He didn’t notice the noises they were making as they were stirring, but his heart dropped when he felt his hands wander into his hair. 
“[REA-]!?” 
“D-don’t stop. . .p-please Idia. .m’feels good.” 
He had to be dreaming! There was no way this could be real, but he didn't care. If it was a dream, then what a lovely dream it was. He nodded and returned to abuse their sex. 
“F-fuck, right there-!” 
Idia was overheating, he was eating them out with such intensity. Drool covers their sex and mixes with their juices. His fingers continued their assault, stretching them out in a scissoring motion while also reaching even areas they couldn’t with their fingers. 
“M’ feels g-good, f-fuck g-gonna cum Idia-!” 
[Reader] was coming undone, the feeling of Idia’s long tongue playing with their sex, sucking and kissing along with his fingers was a pleasure overload. When Idia’s fingers reached that soft and spongey spot inside them, curling his fingers to hit, they came. Grabbing his hair and pushing his face against their sex and bucking their hips, riding out their orgasm as they came on his face. 
“C-Coming!” 
Once they came down from their high, they released his hair. [Reader] raised their forearm to cover their eyes as they worked to catch their breath. Idia got up from the floor and got on the bed, crawling to them. 
“[R-reader]. . .I-I-I-?!” 
[Reader] removed their forearm, looking at him with glossy eyes. Idia could only gaze upon them with such love. Their body was covered in sweat, their skin was warm to the touch and their post-orgasmic face was divine. [Reader] propped themselves on their elbows, struggling to sit up on the bed. When they managed to, they turned to look at him with a dazed-out expression. 
“Idia. . .wanna make you feel good too. . .can I?” 
[Reader] asked in a slightly whiny voice that made Idia’s rock-hard cock strain against his bottoms. His breath hitched, 
“E-EH? I-I N-NO Y-YOU DON’T M-MEA-EEP!” 
Idia shrieked when [Reader] pushed him down on his bed, straddling his hips and rubbing their exposed sex on his clothed crotch. [Reader] raised their arms to remove their shirt, turning to remove his bottoms. [Reader] was able to pull down his bottoms and remove his boxer, exposing his dick. Idia’s hair turned into a pinkish hue with the rest of his skin burning up. He was embarrassed that his crush who he went down on, got to see him in a similar position. [Reader’s] hands were warm to the touch and they began stroking and rubbing his cock, jerking him off. Idia threw his head back, moaning uncontrollably and gasping as he felt their fingers play with his tip, rubbing it back and forth. Their free hand began to fondle his balls, creating a feeling of immense pleasure. Tears began to form and Idia looked at [Reader] with a face that was begging for mercy but at the same time, more. 
“O-Of fuck! F-feels so fucking good! H-having my disgusting cock t-touched by you, [Reader]! F-fuck me, please I want it s-so badly!” 
Before Idia could come, [Reader] let go of their dick. They went to their sex, rubbing their hole and inserting their finger, making sure they were stretched well. They leveled themselves to Idia’s cock and began to lower themselves down. Idia closed his eyes at the feeling of their hole clenching down hard on his dick. [Reader] was struggling themselves too, Idia managed to stretch them out pretty well. After a while, [Reader] began to move, slowly creating a slow pace while riding Idia, Their hands went underneath his shirt and to his nipples, playing with them. Their fingers caught them and began to pinch them. 
“Fuck! H-ha…f-fuck, so tight!” 
“Y-you’re so big, Idia. Feels so f-fucking good!” 
Rolling their hips to meet Idia’s small thrusts to reach that deeper part within their insides. Idia’s hands went to grab and hold their hips, keeping them steady. Idia’s left hand went to touch their sex, rubbing and stroking to make them catch their high. Both their bodies were covered in sweat and their moans echoed throughout the room. [Reader’s] movements were getting sloppy, the feeling of their climax was right around the edge. Idia could feel it too, he wasn’t going to last long but he wanted to. He didn't;’t want this moment to end. 
“I-Idia, hm feel’s so good, feel so full! W-wanna c=come. .-ha!” 
“F-Fuck [Reader]! C-Come, please c-come!” 
Relief was granted when Idia thrust one last time, spilling his seed inside them. [Reader] threw their head back and ended up cumming all over Iida. The room smelled of sweat and sex. Idia and [Reader] were both trying to catch their breath, until Idia began to thrust again. 
“W-wait I-idia! I can’t, it’s t-too much! S-still sensitive-!!” 
[Reader] placed their hands on his stomach, steadying themselves and that’s when they saw it. Idia’s glossy eyes, tears staining his face but his face was red. He looked like he was ready to cry again from the overstimulation. 
“P-please, w-want more of you. W-want to feel you-!” 
Idia began to relentlessly thrust upwards, hitting their deepest spots and continuing to play with their sex. It continued for a while until Idia had his fill, pushing [Reader] until they were no longer able to form coherent words just mindless babbles of their pleasure spilling out. Idia finally finished and managed to release inside them. He let [Reader] lie on the bed to rest, but never pulled out of them. They stayed connected even when Idia was no longer hard. [Reader] looked over at Idia who was avoiding their gaze. [Reader] smiled, breathing out before speaking, 
“I love you, Idia.” 
“H-HUH!? N-no, surely you’re just pulling my leg-” 
“Idia, we just fucked. I’m not pulling anything, you think I don’t know that you were stalking me?” 
Idia let out a whine, diving headfirst into their chest to hide his embarrassment. Wrapping his arms around their waist, pulling him closer to them. 
“I know you’ve been stalking me around. I also know you were the one who got me the phone, the ghosts told me you stopped by my house.” 
Idia peeled himself away enough to look up at [Reader] who looked at him with adoring eyes. 
“ You probably hate me, you must think I’m disgusting aren’t I.” 
“I don’t hate you, but I do think you’re pretty disgusting. I don't mind, I like how disgusting you are about me.” 
Idia gazed into their eyes before shying away, continuing to shove his face in their chest. His pink hair was a dead giveaway that he was completely enamored and not okay with that response. 
“ Oh, and I also know you jerked off to my used underwear.” 
A sob left Idia’s lip. 
Bonus: 
Muscle Red: Hello, it's been a while. So, how did it go with the one you wanted to confess to?” 
Gloomurai: Hello. It went well, I went bold as you said. I kidnapped them and I guess they were into that lol. Thank you for your advice. Now, do you want to do that quest? 
Gloomurai: Muscle Red? [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 
Gloomurai: Muscle Red? :(( [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 
A/N: I have no words because I lowkey hate the writing because I split it up into several days of work so it’s not only consistent but I think I cannot write smut to save my life as well I used to and well yeah. Happy birthday IRL bestie. 
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headkiss · 5 months
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I LOVE YOUR HOTCH FICS!!! <3 You write him so well, and I just adore how soft he is 🥺! I've read a fic where the author basically describes him as a Jane Austen hero, and I can't help but agree (what are you thoughts?)! Sooooo, is it possible to get a fic where Hotch reads to sick!reader to help her sleep? TYSM!
omg ur so right he is very much jane austen coded!!! tysm for requesting i hope u like it!!! | 0.7k of fluff, sick reader and gentle hotch <3
Aaron’s job isn’t one that allows him to take much time off of work, even when he wants to. You know it, and would never be angry at him for it, so when you wake up feeling a little too warm, you reassure him that you’ll be fine by yourself.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” He asks, already dressed in his suit and sitting on the edge of the bed by your waist. “I can if you want me to.”
Of course the only time he’d be eager to ask for a day off is when it’s in your favor. He doesn’t even call out when he’s the one who’s sick.
“No, you can’t, Aaron. They need you over there,” you say, hoping your smile is convincing enough. “I’m just gonna sleep this off. I’ll be fine.”
He sighs, reluctant to leave even though he sort of has to, even though he knows you can take care of yourself. He just hates not being the one to do so, anyways.
Hotch leans over to press a kiss to your heated cheek, “I’ll call you when I can to check in, okay?”
“You really don’t have to-”
“Let me do that, at least, sweetheart.”
“Okay.”
He kisses your cheek again and then stands to leave, pausing at the bedroom doorway to turn back and look at you one more time. You snake your hand out from under the sheets and give him a thumbs up.
Aaron calls you exactly five times throughout the day, most of them quick, couple-minute phone calls where he asks how you’re doing, if you’ve eaten. One of them during his lunch—which he rarely takes—and lasting nearly half an hour, him doing most of the talking.
The sun is close to setting by the time he gets home, where Aaron finds you curled up on the couch in the comforter from your bed, your skin clammy, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
His heart aches a little bit at the sight, because he knows you’ve been downplaying how sick you feel all day to keep him from worrying, as if anything could.
Hotch walks over to the couch, crouching in front of where your head is propped up on a pillow. “Sweetheart.”
“Hi, Aaron.”
He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning at how warm you feel. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fever? You should be in bed.”
“Got too warm in there, then too cold out here, so I took the comforter. Hope that’s okay.”
The medicine you took hours ago hasn’t done much other than make you a little groggy, and it’s clear in the way you speak with your cheek still squished to the pillow, your eyelids heavy.
Aaron’s hand is still on your forehead, like he can will your fever away with his touch. “Have you slept? Are you hungry?”
You shake your head, “don’t really feel like eating.”
“You should,” he says. “How about I run you a bath and make you some soup? Then bed.”
“Okay, doctor Hotchner.”
He shakes his head, though the small smile on your face as you tease him makes him smile, too. Even feeling poorly, you manage to brighten his day. A ray of sunshine.
He does exactly as promised, and after a bath and a generous bowl of soup that Hotch made sure you finished, you’ve got your head in his lap, his hand gently pushing your hair back.
Looking down, Aaron finds you still awake, blinking up at him lazily. “Aren’t you tired?”
“It’s been hard to sleep,” you say, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “Will you read to me?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Pick a book.”
You choose, and whine when he gets up to go get it even though he’s back in a matter of seconds. With your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh once again, he starts reading to you.
You’ve always loved Aaron’s voice, the way it sounds when he speaks to you, the low and calm tone that seems to wash over you. He’s using a gentle voice now, a quiet one that you love even more because it’s one he saves for you. Intimate and lovely.
It’s only with his hand in your hair and his voice in your ears that you’re finally able to fall asleep.
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sizzleissues · 5 months
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Its May.
Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it
Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.
It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.
Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut
Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned
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As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.
My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.
Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.
A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!
On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.
It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)
This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.
The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.
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caitlinbueckers · 5 months
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ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS
anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass
pet names.
paige bueckers/azzi fudd.
2.8K.
kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???
minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck
Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one
at first, it’s a subtle change.
it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.
so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.
it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.
it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.
azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.
“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”
it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.
baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.
it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.
and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’
ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.
babybabybaby.
she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.
all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.
and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.
but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.
when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.
or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.
and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”
really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.
it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.
“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”
it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.
the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.
it makes her whole body warm all over.
her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.
“night, p.”
but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.
or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.
it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.
but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.
“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”
she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”
this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”
my girl.
what the fuck ever.
azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.
in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.
it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.
“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”
because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”
god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.
it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.
“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.
but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.
it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”
it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.
“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”
really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.
it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.
in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”
she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.
she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.
but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.
it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.
it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”
and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.
and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’
and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.
a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.
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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months
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Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission
Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.
CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
AO3 Link
A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.
Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.
I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.
Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)
Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD
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“Hey, hey— are you alright?”
She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 
“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?
The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.
She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”
And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.
But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.
Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.
“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”
“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”
“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”
“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”
“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.
She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.
“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”
She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.
Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:
“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.
Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.
“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”
And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.
The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.
So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.
But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.
It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.
And that was better than nothing she supposed.
Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”
She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”
Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.
“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”
She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”
Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”
She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”
“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”
Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”
She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.
“If I do… Do you mind—”
“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”
She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 
The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.
And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.
She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.
She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.
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Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 
“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”
She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.
“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 
Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.
She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.
If only for a little bit.
“What’s going on?”
She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.
“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”
“You start your period or something?”
He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 
Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.
“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”
She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.
“Are you nauseous at all?”
Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.
“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”
“Have you taken anything for it?”
She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.
“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”
He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.
And between her legs.
“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.
“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”
“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”
She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 
…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?
She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.
“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.
He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.
“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”
She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.
“No funny business?” she pressed.
He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”
More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.
So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.
Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.
She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.
“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”
Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”
In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.
With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.
A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 
He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.
“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”
“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.
She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”
He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.
Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.
She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 
“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”
She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.
By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.
Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.
“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”
Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.
“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”
She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.
“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”
It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 
Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.
Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.
He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 
Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 
Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.
Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.
And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.
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It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.
Shigaraki wasn’t here.
She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…
She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…
Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.
Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.
Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.
If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.
She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 
She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.
It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.
And really fucking nauseous.
She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.
A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.
“Let it out. Just let it all out.”
She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.
“Here.”
She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.
 “Drink some of it too.”
She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 
And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 
Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”
“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”
She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.
“Don’t like salmon?”
“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”
“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”
Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.
“W-What?”
Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 
Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 
Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.
“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.
She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…
“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”
She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 
He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”
She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.
“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”
Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 
“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”
He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 
She sighed.
“Yeah… Yeah okay.”
Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 
But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.
She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.
“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”
She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.
But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.
Like something was wrong .
Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.
There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…
And a little dish of four pills. 
Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…
“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”
As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.
And she was ready to get the fuck off.
“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”
“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”
Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 
“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”
He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.
“What’re you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”
He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…
“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”
He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.
“ Both of you .”
She froze.
No.
No, he couldn’t mean—
She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:
“... what? ”
Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.
“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”
She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.
He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!
“Th-That’s not funny.”
His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.
“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”
“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”
“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”
He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”
Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.
“B-But my birth control pills…”
“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”
Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.
And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 
Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.
Horribly fucking right.
Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 
“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”
His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.
“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”
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froggiewrites · 26 days
Note
other request - sanji and face sitting (maybe he really likes it?) OR sanji being a sub and you tell him how he should touch himself idk >///< your sanji & zoro fic made me feel things Lol
I was trying to write your other request first because I was originally planning on writing in the order I received them but I genuinely have not been able to stop thinking about your second idea since you sent it in. Honestly I might go back and write the face sitting later too, I'm soooo obsessed with Sanji I need him so bad 😭
Instruction
Pairing: Sanji x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You give Sanji some gentle instruction, and he's more than happy to listen. Warnings: Porn Without Plot, Sub Sanji, Masturbation, Praise Kink (Sanji receiving) Word Count: 1k
“Are you ready, my love?” Your hands hold his cheeks as he stares up at you with something bordering worship. 
His lips brush against one of your palms, his facial hair tickling your skin. “Of course, my love. I would do anything you asked of me. I was born to serve you.” His eyes are half lidded, pupils already blown out with lust. His shirt is open, chest exposed, and his pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, his underwear still obscuring what you really want to see. You briefly trace your hands over his happy trail, stopping right before you make contact with his bulge, and he lets out a quiet, shaky moan as his face flushes red. “Please don’t tease me, angel. I won’t last.”
“You’ll last until I say you’re done, sweetheart.” Another quiet noise. “But I’ll be nice. Start slow. Take off your pants.”
He slides slowly out of his suit pants, revealing his thighs and calves to you. He discards them next to the bed before his hands start to reach for his underwear, and you softly tut at him.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?” He looks at you with confusion.
“I want you to run your hands over yourself just like I would. Can you do that for me, Sanji?” You keep your voice a sweet coo, encouraging and kind. Only the gentlest words and tone for your beloved. He hesitates a moment, looking into your expectant eyes, before lightly tracing his fingertips up his torso, running over his abs and up to his chest. He traces a path back down, fingers brushing over chest hair and old battle scars, before he reaches the waistband of his underwear. He pauses, looking to you for permission, and you consider him for a moment. He flushes further under your intense gaze, but he doesn’t look away or cower. He seems to soak up your gaze, your attention, no matter how it embarrasses him. You nod at him, gesturing to his boxers, and he eagerly slides them off, exposing himself fully to you.
You take a moment to admire him before giving him his next instruction. “Go ahead and start, love.” He wraps his hand around himself gently, beginning to move a tick too quickly for your liking, and you quietly say, “Not so fast. We want this to last, don’t we?”
“Yes, my love!” His hand slows, moving tantalizingly up and down his length as he shifts to show off better for you. He maintains his pace, but you can see him quickly start to lose willpower as he struggles to keep steady. His eyes linger on your still clothed chest, on your thighs, on your mouth, and you can practically see the images he has in his head: you, pinning him down and riding him hard and fast, tits bouncing, head thrown back with pleasure. When he looks back up at your face, his eyes pleading for you to give him permission, but you simply give him a grin and lean closer, giving yourself a better look at his dick. It’s leaking with precum, and you’re so tempted to tease him with a small lick, but it isn’t time for that now.
“Sanji?”
“Yes, dear?” His voice cracks a little as he struggles to maintain his composure.
“Do you want to move a little faster for me?”
He lets out a small whine of relief. “Yes, please.” He starts palming himself faster, grip tightening, small whimpers leaving his mouth.
“Good work, my love. You’re doing so well.”
Another choked whimper.
“No need to hold back those noises, darling. They’re one of my favorite parts of this. Could you be a little louder, for me?”
“Yes,” he keens, eyes falling further closed. The whimpers and whines grow louder and louder as he continues, loud enough that someone might overhear, but you’re so enraptured by him you can hardly bring yourself to care.
“You’re doing so well, Sanji. So good for me. Such a good boy.”
He makes the most wanton noise you’ve ever heard at that, speeding up even more, head falling back. He starts to beg, though you can’t quite figure out what for. “Please, more. Please, please, I’m being so good!”
“A little faster, Sanji. That’s it.”
His voice starts to break as he grows close, and you can see him really start to lose himself. Even in such a state, he still opens his eyes to look at you, eyes begging for permission.
You smile at him warmly, lovingly, and say in the sweetest voice you can, “Go on and cum for me, my love.”
He breaks instantly, cum covering his stomach and hand. He leans back on the mattress, breathing heavy. You sit in a moment of silence, before he asks in a hopeful and vulnerable tone, “Was that good? Was that what you wanted?”
“Yes, Sanji, that was perfect. You were perfect.”
A pleased smile makes its way onto his face, one that’s just on the edge of smug. You move forward, kissing him softly on the forehead, before standing to grab a towel.
His hand not covered in cum catches you. “Are you leaving?” His eyes are wide and pleading, the look on his face a fragile one you know he wouldn’t dare to wear outside of this room.
“No, darling. I was just going to grab a towel so you could clean yourself up.”
“Can you stay?”
You look at him, looking so small despite his usual bravado, and sit back down. “Of course, Sanji. I’d do anything you asked of me.” You giggle slightly, hands reaching for his face and caressing his cheeks.
He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, basking in it, before sliding his shirt off of his hands and using it to wipe himself up. After he’s satisfied with his cleanliness, he practically dives into you, head against your chest, ear right against your heart. His breathing evens out, his heartbeat slows to match with yours, and his fingers intertwine with yours. “I love you, angel.”
“I love you too, Sanji.”
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 7 months
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Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : very angsty ; fluffy in the beginning just to break everyone's hearts a little bit more ; death of a family member ; famous nana cliffhanger ; Word Count : 5.2k Request : @lovesunshinefelix : Write more angst 😵‍💫 GIVE ME THE ANGST 😭🧎‍♀️ A/N : Of course! Anything for you bestie!! This one might be a little bit self indulgent just slightly, but it's definitely gonna be sad. I love making angsty Felix fics!
“One iced americano, please.”
“Okay, and what’s the name for the order?” 
“Lee Felix.” 
“Mmn… It should be done in just a moment.”
“Thank you.”
Such a short interaction, but that’s how it all began. You were simply the barista at the coffee shop next door to the office, but in a matter of seconds, you had become so much more to him. Your sweet smile and the fairy lights that twinkled in your eyes as you looked at him. He was absolutely enamored by you. 
The craziest part was that he didn’t even like coffee that much, he had just been craving the taste of the drink. Is that why it felt all the more serious to him? Like it had been fate that brought him to you in the first place, but now it was you that kept bringing him back. 
“One iced americano, please.” 
“The name for the order?” 
“It’s Lee Felix.” 
“Alrighty, it should be done soon.” 
“I’ll wait here.” 
He wondered if you’d remember him if he came in every day. Would you remember his order or his name? Would you remember the way he’d smile at you whenever you spoke? Would you remember anything about him, or was he just another customer that you probably forgot about once the work day was done? 
He wanted it to be like that, he wanted to be a customer that you looked forward to seeing. He wanted your head to lift with every ring of the bell when the shop door would open. He wanted you to wait for his appearance, to see you smile when he finally came in. He wanted you to recognize him. 
“One iced-“ 
“Americano? Is it for a Lee Felix?” 
“Hm… Maybe I should switch up my order?” 
“It’s almost been two weeks, I can’t imagine having an iced americano every single day for that long.” 
“Well, what would you recommend?” 
“I’m not sure… I don’t really drink coffee.” 
“That’s ironic. You don’t drink anything here?” 
“Does the free water count?” 
“I’ll take a free water then.” 
It was the first time he had actually talked to you, but it was also the first time you had said his name in any way other than letting him know that his order was done, it was the first time that you had said his order without his having to really say anything at all. It was the proof that he needed to know that he was on the right track, he just had to keep going. 
You had laughed that day too, not one of those fake laughs that he had heard you give the other guys that would try to flirt with you… It was a genuine laugh, the sound so beautiful that it was on a constant loop in his head for the rest of the day. He couldn’t get you off of his mind, but he didn’t want to rush things. Even if he felt that things were going perfectly, he wanted you to feel the same way. 
“Two free waters and a croffle, please.” 
“Really changing it up now, are we? Are you bringing a date?” 
“Ah… Not exactly…” 
“Good, because I don’t think a woman would be very impressed with free water for a drink.” 
“But the woman doesn’t drink anything on the menu. I’m really going out on a limb here with the croffle.” 
“You can never go wrong with a croffle, they’re delicious. Why would you invite this woman to the coffee shop if you know she doesn’t like anything on the menu though?”
“Because this is the only place I get to see her, and I’m too shy to ask her for her number, so I just wanted to see if she wanted to have some free water and share a croffle with me.” 
“Oh… Is she here already?” 
“I’m looking at her…” 
He could remember vividly the way you froze, the way it felt when his stomach began its descent, thinking that you would turn him down. It took you so long to say anything, he wondered if he had completely blown it by being so forward. He had never been so nervous in his life, but then that smile appeared on your face and you let out the most beautiful laugh, the sound tinged with a certain shyness that he had never read from you before. Did he make you as shy as you made him?
Sitting across the table from you, he could feel it, you were meant for him and he was meant for you. He was a perfect mix of so many emotions, nervousness, shyness, happiness, he was everything balled up into one, but it made him feel alive. It was like he was standing on stage and performing for all of STAY, except there was no setlist, there was no particular script or order that he had to follow… And it was only your eyes on him… But it was just as amazing, if not more, because you were looking at him and only him, and you were there with just him. He was all yours, and you were all his. 
///
“If you could have your wedding anywhere in the world, where would it be?” He asked as you both laid on the blanket beneath the cherry blossom trees that were in full bloom. It was beautiful, the perfect spot for a date, although most people would say that he didn’t have to try as hard now that it’s been 5 months since the two of you have been together. He didn’t believe them though, because every single time he took you somewhere new, somewhere more beautiful than the last, your eyes would light up and that adorable smile would stretch across your face, and he’d question why he would give that up. 
You hummed in thought, and he wondered what your mind looked like right now. Were images of your dream wedding playing out behind your closed eyes? Was he the one standing across from you in those thoughts, dressed in a suit, tears in his eyes as he watched the woman of his dreams walk down the aisle to meet him at the end? “I think… Hmm… Well, I don’t really mind much, actually. As long as I’m there with the person that I love, that I want to spend the rest of my life with… The place doesn’t matter much at all.” How could you be so amazing? He asked himself that every single day. “What about you? Where would your dream wedding be?” 
He hummed softly, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow, staring down at you with the most loving eyes. He knew for a fact that he had never loved someone as much as he loves you, and it was only bound to get stronger. “I’m sure that a lot of people would think that I’d want to get married on the beach somewhere in Australia since that’s where I’m from… But I feel like the beach is rather cliche, it gets done too much.” 
“I like the beach…” You murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, your fingers lingering against his cheek. “I think it would make for some beautiful pictures, don’t you?” He hadn’t exactly thought about it that way, but now that he heard your input, it was like his entire view had been changed. 
“The beach it’ll be then.” He said quite enthusiastically, his cheeks still flushed from where you had touched him. You just had the ability to send fire coursing through his veins and he loved the feeling of it, the warmth that it brought. 
You giggled softly, rolling your eyes at the sudden switch up. “What’s with the serious questions all of a sudden? Do you plan on getting married some time soon? You have to invite me to the wedding.” You joked, and he stuck his tongue out at you before dipping down and pressing his lips to yours. 
“The only wedding I want is the one where you’re meeting me at the end of the aisle.” He said much softer now, even his breaths were so quiet it was almost like he wasn’t breathing at all. “We have time though… I just wanted a general idea of what you’d want.” 
“Felix…” His name was like a breath from your lips, so gentle, so light that the winds that shook the blossoms off the trees would be able to pick it up and carry it away. 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to think too hard about it just now. I’ll make sure everything is perfect for you when the day comes.” 
“You’re crazy…” You murmured, and maybe he was. Maybe he was out of his damn mind to be planning a wedding with a girl that he had met at a coffee shop only five months ago. But to him it felt right, it felt like the only thing to do. He knew that all he wanted was you anyway, and he didn’t want to hide the way he felt for you. He wanted you to know that you were the only person he ever wanted in his life. 
“Mm… Maybe… You smell like coffee beans…” He teased, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath. “Is that… French Roast? Maybe… with a hint of vanilla?” 
You squealed, playfully pushing against his shoulders as you tried to squirm free. “Stop it! You’re the one who didn’t want to wait for me to go home and change when I got off!” You defended, but he thought it was so damn adorable. 
“I just like to see you, I didn’t want to wait!” He jokingly whined, dropping on top of you completely, his face still hidden, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You smell amazing, absolutely delicious, my coffee queen.” 
///
“Would you rather have your body and Bbokaris head, or the other way around?” You asked one night as you sat beside him on the couch. The question was most likely nothing more than a joke, but he wanted you to know that he listened to and thought about everything that you said, so he paused the movie that was playing on the tv and turned his body entirely toward you. 
“Would you still love me regardless of what my answer is?” He quizzed, his eyes searching deeply into yours for the answer, and you nodded your head so firmly that he knew you weren’t lying. You’d love him no matter what, and he would love you just the same. “I think I’d rather have his head, I don’t want to be any shorter… Or… Am I just a regular sized version of Bbokari? Is he me sized or am I him sized?” 
You snorted at the questions, your laughter still his most favorite sound in the entire world. He made a goal to make you laugh at least twice a day, if not more. “It would be the size of your skzoo plushy. It would be so cute though, wouldn’t it?! I could just carry you around with me everywhere I go! I’d never have to miss you!” 
Even though you were still giggling, your words made his heart flutter. Did you miss him when he wasn’t around? Did your heart ache like his whenever there was distance between the two of you? He always tried not to be too clingy. “You never have to miss me now, just text me and I’ll come to you always.” He draped his arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer to his side as he pressed a small kiss to your temple. 
“You have so much work to do, I don’t like bothering you. I would never call you away from practice or recording just to see you… Even if I want to.” You looked up at him, your smile pushing your cheeks up and squinting your eyes. Your eyes… He wanted to get lost in them for hours and hours, he wanted to live in them just for a moment, to see the world the way you do. What made you angry? What made you sad? He’s been with you for seven months now and he’s never seen you anything but happy. Was it because you were with him? Did he make all of your fears, your worries, your anger… Did he make it disappear? 
“I think even if I had Bbokari body I’d be in practice… Can you imagine?” Your head fell back once more as your laughter filled the room, he never wanted to stop hearing it. “Wait… Would my head shrink too, or would my head stay normal sized? I have so many questions!” 
You were laughing even harder now, wheezing even as you breathlessly tried to talk through fits of giggles. “Your normal head… Definitely… It would be so top heavy on the tiny body… Oh my gosh… Just picturing it… The Maniac move… With the…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, bursting into a new fit of laughter, and now his mind was filled with the same image, and you both were laughing. 
It was nice to have someone to just laugh with, to goof around with. He felt so normal with you, he could have fun, he could be truly happy when you were beside him. That’s why he couldn’t let you go, why he kept thinking to a time somewhere in the future where you and him would both be on the beach in Australia, surrounded by your families and your friends, and he’d slip a ring onto your finger and promise himself to you for the rest of forever. 
///
“When was the last time I told you I loved you?” Felix asked over the phone, trying not to speak too loud. Sharing a hotel room wasn’t exactly hard, but he tried to be as respectful as possible to the guys who were trying to sleep while also trying to talk to you as much as he could. Time zones were always a pain in the ass, but they’re even worse now considering he couldn’t just not talk to you while he was away. 
“About five seconds ago.” You whispered, although there was no need for you to, he had your voice coming through his headphone so none of the other guys would hear you. “It’s so early in the morning for you… Aren’t you tired? I don’t want to keep you up all night.” 
“Mm… It’s worth it to talk to you.” He didn’t care if he was tired, he’d just sleep while getting his hair and makeup done, or he’d sleep in the car on the way to the next venue. “Have you eaten yet?” He quickly tried to change the subject, truthfully, he just wanted to hear you talk. He loved listening to you speak, he could lay in the hotel bed for hours with your sweet whispers filling his ears. 
“Not yet… I’m trying to think of what to eat.” The sound of your kitchen cabinets squeaking was heard and he chuckled softly, making a mental note to try to fix them or at least put some oil on the hinges so they wouldn’t be as loud. “Think I might just have a ramen bowl. It’s not as fun to do the dishes when I don’t have my designated drier.” 
Everything that the two of you did together was fun, it didn’t matter what it was. Whether you were going on dates or if it was something as mundane as doing the dishes or the laundry, if you were doing it together, that’s what made it enjoyable. “Well just let the dishes build up and we’ll have so much fun washing them together once I get back.” He teased, and he could just see the eye roll that came along with your soft snort as you tried to stifle your laughter. 
“I don’t think my sink is big enough for that many dishes.” You said between giggles, but your laughter was short lived as you let out a quiet sigh. “I miss you… So much…” Your voice was quieter now, almost to the point that he couldn’t hear you, and the only reason he could is thanks to the headphones. “Bbokari doesn’t hug me back the way you do… The bed is so empty and cold on your side… And the clothes that you left me are starting to lose your scent.” 
He couldn’t be more thankful that the two other guys in the room were already asleep because he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes as he listened to you. Felix missed you just as much, and he considered himself to be lucky because he wasn’t in a house that would feel so lonely if the roles were reversed. “I know, babe. I’ll be home soon, just wait for me. I miss you too… So much. I wish I could have snuck you here with me, I wish you would have packed yourself in my suitcase. We wouldn’t have to miss each other at all.” 
Now you both were crying, and he got up out of the bed as quietly as he could to make his way to the bathroom just to make sure he didn’t wake anyone up with his sniffling. “I love you, Lix…” Hearing you say it, no matter how many times he heard it, it was always like the first time. His heart would flutter and he’d feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and while this time was no different, there was an extra feeling of sadness that came along with it. 
“I love you too, babe… Don’t cry anymore, please? You’re too beautiful to cry… Smile for me, okay? And just always remember, I’m not gone forever, I’ll always come home to you.” 
///
2 months later and he was finally heading back home to you. The night before the flight he had stayed up just to talk to you on the phone, it sounded like you were crying again, but he assumed that the tears you were shedding were tears of happiness that he’d finally be returning to you. He’d be lying if he tried to say that he hadn’t shed a few tears himself at the thought of finally being able to hold you and kiss you again. 
He slept through the entire plane ride, and he hadn’t told you what time he’d be landing because he wanted to surprise you by showing up at your work. He wouldn’t say that he’s a hopeless romantic, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how romantic it would be to show up at your work with a bouquet of flowers. He could already see the shy little smile that would spread across your face, the flustered look in your eyes when you saw him walk through the door. 
When the plane finally landed, his excitement really kicked in. He didn’t want to wait to take his things back to the dorms, he didn’t even care to change his clothes or check to see how he looked. All he could think about was you. So he had the guys take all of his bags back to the dorms and he asked to be taken straight to the little coffee shop right beside the office… after stopping by a flower shop first though. 
“One iced americano, please.” His voice was cheerful as he practically waltzed through the door, the tiny bell above his head ringing out and announcing his entrance. The bouquet was hidden behind his back and he couldn’t help but smile wide as he looked around at the familiar scenery… They hadn’t changed anything in the months that he had been gone. 
“She’s not here.” One of the employees said, and Felix didn’t know whether to feel disappointed, humiliated, or both. He was sure that you would be there, you always worked on the weekdays, and it’s not like you had said anything about having your schedule changed. Maybe he should have let you know that he was on his way to the shop just so that you could have let him know that you weren’t there. 
“Oh… Well… Did her schedule change?” He asked rather sheepishly, and the girl behind the counter cocked her head to the side, her eyebrow raising. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? You didn’t fire her, did you?!” 
“She didn’t tell you, did she?” The girl leaned across the counter, and there was a look in her eye that made it clear to him that she found some kind of enjoyment in this, but he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. “She went home. And I’m not talking about down the street. I mean, she hopped on a plane and went home. She was in a rush too.” 
The flowers fell to the floor, and he felt that he was going to be next if he didn’t keep himself steady against the counter. You… You didn’t even live in Korea… And you hadn’t told him that at all. He wouldn’t have even minded, as long as he knew that you’d always be his… But you just left. You left without saying anything to him. You left without warning, without reason. He didn’t even know what to do. 
For a moment, the world froze, time seemed to stop entirely, his mind reeling with what he could do, what he should do. Was he supposed to call you? Would you even answer him? Were you trying to run away from him? Had he done something wrong? He just couldn’t understand what he had done to make you leave without a message, a call… You had given him nothing when he wanted to give you everything. It wasn’t fair. Was he too clingy? Why didn’t you just talk to him? He would have done anything to just keep you, he would have changed completely if it meant having you still. 
“If you want to talk about it, I-“ The girl began, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone if it wasn’t you. She didn’t have the answers, she couldn’t tell him what he needed to know. He stormed out of the shop, taking a deep breath, the cold air catching in his throat and causing it to burn. He didn’t want to cry, but it seemed inevitable as the chill caught on the dampened streaks that coated his cheeks. Was there someone else? What was he to you that you could just give up so easily? How could you walk away without even a glance back, a second thought? He couldn’t let you do this, he just couldn’t. He was going to get an answer, whether you planned on giving it to him or not.
///
“Tell me more about your time in Korea. Tell me about that boy you met.” Your grandmother said hoarsely, her frail hand reaching out to grab yours. “You smile when you talk about him. I like seeing you smile.” 
“Gran… You really need to rest now.” You whispered, holding her hand in both of yours to try to warm it up. She always felt so cold now. “I’ll tell you all about it, I’ll tell you all about him when you wake up. I’ll be here.” Your thumb brushed along her knuckles, her skin wrinkled and thin, but to hold her hand was such a comforting thing, to be there beside her. 
She didn’t argue, she simply settled against her pillow, using her free hand to pull up her blanket a little higher as she kept her other hand between yours. She was weak, she was sick, and when you had gotten the call from your father that she was being moved from the hospital and being put into hospice, there was nothing that would keep you from being by her side. 
It was late, 11 o’clock at night, a little past that even, and everyone had gone to bed in their respective guest rooms. Everyone but you, still jet lagged and running on Korean time. You were wide awake, and you knew that a part of you refused to fall asleep just so that you’d have a little more time with your grandmother, even if it was just sitting beside her while she was sleeping. It might be all the time you have left with her, and a part of you felt guilty for being gone the past year, before she got really sick, before things came to this. You knew that she would have wanted you to live your life though, to find happiness, to find someone that you loved, someone who loved you back just as much. And you had found that, you had found all of those things in Felix, and you felt terrible for leaving the way you did, but you were in such a hurry, you were hoping he’d understand. 
11:56pm, four minutes to midnight and your phone rang on the nightstand table beside your grandmother’s bed. Felixs name was at the top of the screen and you quickly answered it, taking one last look at your grandmother before leaving the room to stand in the hallway, not wanting to risk waking her up while talking to him. “Lix…” You sighed out his name, and there was a sense of relief being kept at bay long enough for you to hear his voice, and you knew that once you did, you’d feel slightly better. 
“You left.” He began, and that relief never set in, instead there was just dread and more guilt stacked on top of the already existing emotion. “An entire year, and I didn’t even hear it from you, I heard it from one of your coworkers that you don’t even live here… And the worst part is that I didn’t even hear about it until you were already gone.” 
“I know that you’re angry, you have every right to be… But can you just listen to me, please?” You begged as quietly as you could, leaning against the wall in the hallway and slowly sinking to the floor. 
“I do have the right to be angry, and I won’t listen. You had almost 365 days for me to sit and listen to you so that maybe I’d understand what you did… But not now. It’s too late for explanations and I don’t want to hear your excuses either.” 
He sounded so angry, you had never heard him get mad before, and while you would have gotten angry right back, you were too busy being devastated. You needed him, you needed him more than anything right now, but he wasn’t even listening to you. On top of being sad, you were confused, you did live in Korea, just because you weren’t originally from there didn’t mean that you weren’t living there. “Why did you call… If you’re just going to yell at me and not listen to what I have to say… Why would you call me?” 
“You basically walked out on me… No… You did worse… You left the damn country. You’ve broken me, I can’t believe you’re the one even crying right now.” You clasped your hand over your mouth to try to muffle the sound of your sobs just so he wouldn’t point them out. “You know what… I don’t have anything else to say to you. I hope you enjoyed your year, you can go tell everyone about how you broke my heart, I’m sure you’ll be real popular for that. Bye.” You didn’t know what the hell he was on about, you didn’t know where the assumptions even came from, but they only managed to hurt worse. 
You were left in silence, your heart in shambles as you sat in the dark hallway, the only light coming from the cracked bathroom door at the end of the hall. You were shrouded in sadness, you had just lost the love of your life, the man that you planned on spending the rest of your life with, and you were about to lose your grandmother. Was there anything else that life would throw at you? 
///
It had been a week since the phone call, and while he had been angry then, the anger had slowly worn off and turned into a sadness spurred by the loneliness that he felt without you there. Hell, he would have been fine just talking to you on the phone, hearing your voice or seeing you through a video call. There was too much shame though, too much regret. He had lost his temper with you, and while the call had initially been to figure out why you had left, he hadn’t even let you talk long enough to tell him. 
He tried to not let it bother him, he tried to focus his mind on anything else, but whenever he’d go to the office, he’d have to go past the little coffee shop and it was a constant reminder of you, of when things had first begun. He felt like a fool, an absolute idiot, and now he didn’t even know how you were doing. He still loved you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell you those three words and hear them back, but now he was too scared to even try to contact you. 
So he watched your social accounts, waiting to see an update of any kind. You hadn’t blocked him, which was either a good sign, or a sign that you hadn’t been online in a while and he didn’t know how to feel about that thought. The last post you had made was from a week before he had left for tour, a picture of the two of you sitting at your table in the coffee shop, sharing a croffle with your free waters, a perfect recreation of your first date. 
His notifications were on for whenever you did post, just so that he could be the first person to like the picture or an update, but it had been so long since you posted that he rarely even checked the notifications to see if it was you. Today had been a rare occurrence where he had already been looking at his phone when you did post, and while it was only an instagram story update, he immediately clicked on it. 
“I’ll miss you Gran… I love you so much.” The text read under a picture of an older woman, her eyes wrinkled in the corners, a sign that she smiled a lot, and her smile was just like yours, he could see it in the picture. She was a happy woman, he could tell that she was loved, and that she had loved just as much. As he looked at the picture longer though, it set in, the realization… You hadn’t left him, not because you wanted to… You had to go home, you had to be there for her, for your family… And he had gotten angry with you for that… He hadn’t even let you explain. 
“Oh… Fuck!” He hissed, quickly closing out of instagram and opening his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact. He wasn’t sure how he’d go about apologizing, he didn’t know how the phone call would go even if you did answer, but he had to try. He had to at least say sorry if nothing else, so he called you, and he waited for it to go to voicemail, but then he heard silence… and then a shaky breath… You were crying. “Y/N… Babe… Are you there?” 
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sherlocks-blanket · 1 year
Text
Drunk Confessions
A/N: Finally, after having not posted for such a long time... I can post a fic I had as a WIP since last year... I hope I get to write more again, but I can't promise anything. Anyway, I hope you guys like it.
Words: 1k
Warnings: Nothing, just some drunk sherlock?
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After you received a message from Sherlock, that you should come as soon as possible to Baker street, minus the spelling errors; which you dismissed he messaged while being in trouble… You dropped anything you where doing and hurried outside to hail a cab; to take you to 221B.
The moment the cab halt, you paid the driver and rushed up the stairs to find Sherlock with John sitting towards each other with notes attached on their foreheads and from the liquor in their hand; you could probably tell, that they had too much for this evening, with how wasted they are…
As you gasped for air, you let yourself drop on the doorframe, drawing the attention from the two men. You noticed a smile spreading on Sherlock lips the second his eyes where on you, but it wasn’t a fake one; it radiates warmth like he was pleased to see you came, which was unlike for Sherlock to do. Not that he can’t do it, but when he does; it’s either false ones that you can tell apart from the real, since the real ones are rare and shows how comfortable he is with someone, that he shows it; unlike the fake ones, where he drops his smile immediately the moment the person turns they face away from him; which you noticed a few times…
A giggle from John broke the awkward silence in this room. You turned your gaze to the doctor and raised an eyebrow at him.
“I kneeeeeeeew it!” he exclaimed, pointing to Sherlock, then he took a sip from his drink.
You furrowed your brows in further confusion, but shaking your head; you got your phone out of your pocket and wrote Mary; telling her she should pick up her drunken fiancé… Just as you were done writing the text; a client walked into the flat and asked for Sherlock; but you kindly explained she should come tomorrow, since it gotten late. It made you wonder if clients show up at any hour of the day…
Sherlock, of course…He protested that the client shouldn’t leave even after the client had already left. After all, who knows? It could’ve been a missed opportunity for a case that could have gotten his interest; but you simply pushed him back in his armchair when he tried to stand up.
“You can work tomorrow…Now you better rest, so you’ll be sober for the next day…”
He stared with a sharp glare, like he wanted to prove with some deductions he’s capable of working, but he faltered instantly; which you took as a sign that he gave in. When you turned to help John downstairs; where Mary would pick him up; still you felt his eyes bore onto you.
As Mary left with John; she gave you an apologetic glance before they got into a cab; leaving you to deal with a drunken Sherlock.
When you stepped through the door, Sherlock sat still in his armchair, his posture relaxed; his eyes on something. You never saw him resting like that, but it most likely came from the alcohol…
His eyes wandered to you, noticing you were present again. There was this again…
This warm smile.
“Well…let’s get you sobered up…” you mumbled, leaning your hand on his shoulder to animate him to standing up, which he didn’t and instead, he took your hand in his own; staring at it like it was a piece of art.
“You have such soft hands...”,he murmured, keeping his eyes on your hand; rubbing his thumb along your palm.
You gently withdrawn your hand feeling the a heat rise on your cheeks; before you could say something again that he needs to rest, he slowly stood up wobbly on his own; leaning his hand your shoulder for support.
With you by his side, you brought him to his bedroom and only helped to remove his shoes and his suit jacket. It didn’t need to get more awkward than it already was for you.
Just as you turned the night light off and wanting to head to the living room; you felt your hand taken again and a warm feeling on it. You peeked over your shoulder; seeing Sherlock lean his cheek on it, with his eyes closed.
You tried to withdraw your hand, but at the same time, you didn’t mind it much. So, you stayed for a while and heard Sherlock snoring softly.
**********
The next morning you were preparing some tea and some water with some painkillers. You assumed he'll have a headache after yesterday…
Just as you wanted to get your stuff from the couch and leave for your own flat; you heard a door open followed with some footsteps.
“Morning.” You greeted him with a smile, which disappeared the moment you thought about yesterday again... It made you wonder if he remembered his drunken behavior or if he ‘deleted’ it from his ‘hard drive’.
Sherlock acknowledged you with a slight nod and went for the water and painkillers.
You watched him silently drink the water but felt uncomfortable for you staring at him. So you thought it was better to go. As you took a single step; Sherlock called your name, drawing your attention back to him.
“About yesterday-“
You interrupted him, holding your hands up in defense; ”No! It’s alright…I know you didn’t mean that…“
Sherlock stared at you, and you could tell he thought for his next words, as he slowly opened his mouth to only closed it again.
“I..I really like you, and I mean... It”
You raised your eyebrows in confusion from this explanation about yesterday until he added.
“ I mean…I like you more than a friend…”
You froze on the spot at his confession as weird as the situation was you wanted to show him you felt the same, so you got out of your stupor and hugged him. It definitely caught him by surprise.
“Do you…feel the same?” he asked cautiously.
You only nodded and said while chuckling; “Yes.”
Sherlock hummed in thought. “I might have to thank John for this…it was his idea to text you…”
You thought again before you slowly connected the dots about yesterday. Like when John said he knew it…Did he see that you liked Sherlock or Sherlock, you or even both? You shook the thoughts away since they didn’t matter anymore. The only thing what mattered…
…was now.
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tacticaldiary · 1 year
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just found ur account, u post some rly awesome stuff. i was just wondering if you could write a fic for either the 141’s ghost or price in an established relationship with the reader and they forgot the readers birthday?
Forget Me Not
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt No Comfort
Simon's a sharp man. He can't afford to be anything less, lest he ends up with a bullet in his back but it's most often the more mundane and meaningful things that slip his mind. Her birthday, for example.
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There wasn't an expectation to go all out for every little celebration in their lives. Both Simon and her were relatively quiet people, preferring to keep celebrations more intimate between them. A small gift for an anniversary, a walk along the beach. It was the little things that were the most special to her, they showed her that grandeur and big gestures weren't the only means of expressing love so deep and devoted.
But never had it come to one of them completely withdrawing.
Their birthday were a slightly more lively affair, having more people involved. Simon, of course, was not particularly fond of having his own but hers? In the past he'd arranged surprises for her on the day, whether that be contacting her family and friends or pulling her out of bed in the morning with breakfast he'd made just for her.
It's why it's so surprising to see him go about his morning like a completely normal day.
He'd kissed her in the morning, no different than how he does every day, went about the house gathering his gear for work that day. Nothing special, just a debrief he needed to attend in the afternoon.
"You'll be going in today?" She asks, unable to keep the slight frown off her face. Her coffee cup is set on the counter with a small 'clink.'
He nods, leaning down to lace up his boots. "Got a debrief at noon. Johnny's been yapping our ears off about a new bar he found so I've no doubt he'll find a way to drag everybody there afterwards." He rolls his eyes but she can tell it's in a fond way.
As disinterested as Ghost might act, she knows he's fond of his team.
Ghost nods, straightening up once he's done with his boots. "Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She watches, a little stunned as he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead before hitching his bag over his shoulder.
Oh.
She didn't think he'd...forget.
"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?" She asks half thinking he's playing some sort of joke on her. He couldn't have forgotten...right? Simon was normally so good with these things. He'd never forgotten before. "Something else that's today? Something important, maybe?"
He gives her a blank look, coming to a stop next to her. "Nothing important enough to remember." He responds, pulling out his keys.
She knows he doesn't mean it like it sounds to her, but that doesn't stop the pang of sudden hurt. Nothing worth remembering?
He was probably trying to be funny with that dry humour of his, but after waking up to him already out of bed, excited to spend the day with him, finding out he'd be going to spend some time in some bar instead of with her today...
It really does sting.
She knows she could call out to him, just tell him that it's her birthday today, but part of her just...doesn't want to. If it wasn't worth remembering, maybe she should celebrate by herself this year...
He calls out a goodbye. The front door opens. Shuts close behind him.
Silence.
She draws in a long, slightly shaky breath and picks up her coffee mug, willing the stinging in her eyes to recede.
                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Simon's had a pretty smooth day so far, which is something that almost never happens. The debrief went smoothly confirming that the Russian intel they'd spotted the other day had been solid enough to warrant the extraction op the team was to take in two weeks time. The bar Johnny had been so eager to show them hadn't been half bad either.
The decor was old 80's themed, a nice polished mahogany bar spanning the entire length of a wall. Ghost had taken to sitting down with a whiskey, watching Price and Gaz play pool while making idle conversation with Johnny sat by his side.
Well, 'conversation' was a generous word. It was mostly Johnny doing the talking with him answering every now and then, or chiming in with a hum to show he was still listening.
"I'm surprised your still hear, you know." Johnny says, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Had a fight with the missus?" Gaz's voice joins in, the other two having wrapped up their game. He orders a drink for himself before sliding into the stool next to Ghost. "Got to agree with Soap on this one. I'm bloody surprised you're in deep enough shit to spend the night here instead."
Ghost stares at them like they're stupid. Maybe they are, because neither of them are making a lick of sense to him.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He drains the last of his whiskey, not missing the look exchanged by the other two men.
"Mate-" Gaz says incredulously.
"Nah, he's not that daft." Soap cuts him off. "He's just fucking with ya."
Gaz narrows his eyes at Ghost. "I don't think he is."
"He's gotta be. Everyone knows-"
"Will either of you spit it out?" He sets his glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary.
"Bloody hell, you did forget." Gaz whispers. "Oh, you're a dead man." Soap recognising the frustrated twitch of Ghost's hand decided to blurt it out before hands get thrown.
"It's your lass' birthday today." Soap says. "Don't tell me ya forgot."
Ghost go through a rush of feelings all at once.
First in disbelief. He's not stupid, of course he'd remember something as simple as a birthday, especially hers. The second is doubt, because the look on Gaz's face is one so full of pity it makes him uncomfortable.
Ghost pulls out his phone to check the date and...
Shit.
The third feeling is disbelief. There's no way he just forgot. Someone must be fucking with him.
"Are you sure you're not forgetting something?"
"Nothing important enough to remember."
The barstool scrapes as dread and guilt twist his gut. Grabbing his coat, he makes for the door without another word, cussing out Johnny for the cackle he laughs behind his back as he leaves in more of a hurry than anyone's ever seen him.
8pm. He'd spent the entire day taking the piss with the guys on the one day that should have been dedicated to her.
He'd been away for so long, arriving home only a few days ago and he'd just...left her again. Granted, those few days being so busy had been out of his control but still. That wasn't an excuse, he decides, turning on the car.
He hadn't been busy today, and had had the time to go back home to her after his debriefing.
His hands tighten around the steering wheel.
                                 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Her earrings glint under the light of their bedroom. Staring at herself in the vanity, admiring the gorgeous dress her friend had gifted her for today, she can't help but feel a lack of excitement for the upcoming night.
Simon has really forgotten. She'd come to terms with it a couple hours ago when the sun had finally set and she'd realised that it wasn't a joke. He'd really, truly forgotten.
Going out partying hadn't been the plan at all, but when he friends had come over to give her a hug and presents, they'd seen her upset, still in her house clothes and decided it was completely unacceptable for her to spend the day like that.
Ushered into getting ready, they'd made plans to meet at this new upscale fancy restaurant before hitting a few clubs on the way back home.
Better than nothing, she reminds herself, chasing away thoughts of what her night might have looked like if Simon had stayed. No time for sulking, this was supposed to be a happy day. She was supposed to be happy.
So why does she feel tears sting at her eyes when she reaches for her purse to check if she has everything? Blinking them away, she takes a second to compose herself.
The key jingle in the lock, the sound echoing from the hallway into their bedroom. She tenses in surprise. Was he home?
Hope blooms in her chest. If Simon was home, maybe he did remember? Maybe he came home early to-
No.
No that wasn't right, she chides herself, smile slipping off her face. Even if he did remember now, that's not an excuse for forgetting the rest of the entire day, for leaving her feeling so shitty and going off to drink with the others.
Straightening her spine, she takes a deep breath and heads for the door. Her feet take her halfway down the hall before the front door flies open on its own, baring the man in question.
His knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping his keys, and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxes when he lays eyes on her. Something akin to relief, as if he might have thought she wouldn't be there when he got home.
"I-"
"Early night?" She straightens out her dress, feeling his eyes on her. He's quiet for a beat, assessing the situation before acting. Ever the soldier. "Mine's just starting." Her voice is as even as she can make it.
Simon shuts the door behind him. "I didn't realise-"
"That's right." He doesn't get to speak right now, doesn't get to fill her mind with pretty apologies and promises. Not this time, not tonight. "You forgot, Simon." A flash of guilt in his eyes makes her feel a pang in her chest she refuses to let take the reigns. "You forgot." She wavers for a moment, clears her throat to regain some control. "Nothing important enough to remember, right?"
It's a punch to the gut, hearing his words thrown back at him with the knowledge of how she interpreted them. His jaw clenches, frustrated at himself for letting something like this slip by him. "I'm going to make it up to you, yeah? Just let me-"
"No thanks." She shakes her head.
"Just let me finish," He narrows his eyes, a little irked at being cut off over and over again.
"No, Ghost." The way he tenses at his name being abandoned for his callsign is proof enough of how he's fucked up. "I don't want to hear it, alright?" She swallows. "I don't want to hear any of it, I'm going out, I'm going to have a good time on my goddamn birthday with my friends, and I'm not going to let you make me cry before I leave."
Cry? It's then that he notices how red her eyes are. Guilt slams into him hard enough to wind him, it worms it's way through his chest and eats him alive, gnawing on the little parts of his heart that haven't gotten calloused.
The first thing he notices when he walked in was how gorgeous she looked. Standing there in front of him in that dress, he's well familiar with most of her clothes, having been the one taking them off at the end of the day, but this one he hasn't ever seen before and it hugs her just right, enough to make his mind blank for a moment when he first walked in.
But he understands. Ghost sees the way she's clutching onto that purse of hers, the way her knuckles are white and the slight shake of her shoulders.
She's trying not to cry.
Because of him.
Fucking hell, that hurts. But not as much as what he's made her feel. Simon wants to argue, wants to tug her close and make it all better, but he sees that she means it, and hell does she deserve to have a good time after the way her morning went.
Simon steps aside with a tight nod.
Letting out what almost is a small, shaky sigh of relief, she brushes past him on the way out and Simon really doesn't have enough self control, because his hand wraps around her elbow to halt her in her tracks.
"I'm sorry, love." He says, so gently, so quiet. Such a stark difference to how he usually is. "I really am. And I will make it up to you, yeah? I promise."
A tight knot forms in her throat, threatening to send a fresh wave of tears at her conflicted feelings. It's all she can do to give him the barest of nods, avoiding his eyes.
"Don't wait up for me. Might be a while till I'm back." She echoes his words from the morning back to him before she shakes off his grip and leaves him alone.
An empty house, a mind full of buzzing remorse.
Requests Are Open! Reblog, Reply and Like!
(11/07/2023)
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greynatomy · 1 year
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the diner
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caitlin foord x reader
i googled some meet cute ideas and came up with this. been wanting to write a caitlin foord fic for a while, just didn’t know what.
let me know what you think!
-grey
———
Tossing and turning in bed, Caitlin couldn’t seem to get herself to fall asleep. Her mind not letting her rest. Instead of staying in bed, Caitlin put on some sweats and a hoodie, hopped into her car to drive around.
The neighborhood was pretty much dead, couple bars just barely closing at two in the morning. Driving a bit further, she comes across a small diner— an American style diner—one she’s never seen before. It looks to be open, also from the little light up ‘open’ sign, she parked her car in the small lot, heading inside.
She seems to be the only one there except for one other person. She didn’t know if she could sit anywhere or had to wait to be seated, but she didn’t have to figure it out for long.
“Hi. Sorry if you’ve waited long, but sit anywhere you please. Menus are already at the tables.” An American accent, Caitlin thought. made sense if an American owned the place.
Seating herself at one of the many small booths, she scans through the menu, suddenly becoming hungry.
“Now, I just made a fresh pot of coffee for you if that’s what you’d like, but how are you with the menu? Need more time?” Caitlin looks up to find you there with a little notepad in your hand, looking down at her with a smile.
“I think I know what I want actually. I’ll just get the pancakes with eggs and bacon please.”
“Alright. Now how do you want your eggs cooked?”
“Scrambled is just fine.”
“What about for a drink?”
“I’ll have a coffee please.”
“Great. I’ll go grab your coffee and start makin’ your food. Be back in a bit.”
As she waited, she looks around the diner, taking in the atmosphere. It looks like the diners you see on the television when watching some old time-y American film or show. Like the one show Caitlin had started to watch, Riverdale was it?
“Here’s your coffee. Cream and sugar for you if you want. And your food is almost done.”
“Thank you.”
Caitlin couldn’t help herself, but she thought you were beautiful. You have an aura that made her want to get to know you more, so she did what she thought she should do.
“Would you like to sit down with me? Like get to know each other and all that?”
You pause. Of course you’ve been asked by other customers to have a meal with them, but you’ve always declined. But you somehow couldn’t decline her invitation.
“Let me just grab your food and I’ll be right back.” You give her a big smile, making Caitlin smile just as big.
After the initial introductions, you and Caitlin had gotten quite along, conversation flowing very easily between the both of you.
You found out that she played football, not at all being a fan of the sport, or sports in general, but not your opinion would definitely change. She asked why you opened up a diner and you told her that you just loved the vibe diners give out and always wanted to open one. Also how there’s not many around England. It’s open twenty-four seven, you only come by when you want to or if there’s no one that can cover a shift.
Without realizing, two hours had passed. Your openers for the diner had just come in. Caitlin tells you that she should get going, picking up her wallet to pay, but you declined saying it’s on the house. Instead, she asked if she could ask for your number, hoping to hang out outside the diner in the future. You agreed, bidding her goodbye as she walked out.
———
Two months have passed. You and Caitlin have been texting and calling everyday, meeting up a few times mostly at your place as she didn’t want any of her friends just bathing in, wanting to introduce you at her own terms.
Her teammates, especially her Matilda teammate Steph, noticed how much she’s been smiling at her phone and cancelling plans with the team.
“What’s god you gigglin’ on your phone there Cait?”
“Nothing.” She brushes Steph off, finishing packing her bag to head back home.
“You’ve been a lot happier these days I feel like.” This got the attention of most of the team, interested in the conversation happening.
“Yeah. Just texting a friend.”
“A friend, hey? You sure they’re just a friend?”
“Okay, fine. I was supposed to invite you anyway, but I do have a girlfriend and I’d like to invite you all to her place tomorrow after training for a dinner. She’s cooking.”
“Foordy’s got herself a girlfriend!” Katie yells out. Everyone else cheering like they’d just won a major tournament.
———
“Alright. They’ll be here soon. Do you need me to do anything else?”
“Nope. Just stand there and be sexy.” You say, leaning up to peck her lips.
Moments later, you hear the sound of the doorbell, Caitlin’s friends trickling in one after the other. Settling down in your backyard, you start getting boba dyed with questions.
“How did you guys meet?”
“When did you guys meet?”
“How’d Caitlin get a hold of you?”
“Woah, guys! Don’t overwhelm her. She’ll answer when you quiet down.”
“Thank you, baby.” You kiss her cheek, getting aww’s from everyone, making you blush. “Alright. To answer all the questions at once, she came by my diner at like two in the morning, I was the only one working and she was my only customer. She was very shy at first, but we warmed up to each other very quickly, talking for two hours. We exchanged numbers, she asked me to be her girlfriend and now we are here.”
After swearing all the questions, everyone quickly dug into the food, complimenting you on the taste. Everyone was so easy to talk to.
Caitlin watched you bond with her teammates, laughing at something Leah had said. She was glad you were getting along with everyone and that everyone had gotten along with you, like they’d known you for quite some time.
She was grateful that she had walked into your diner that night.
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ryker-writes · 1 year
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I loved your broken sibling relationship with Azul! Can I request the same scenario BUT with Vil?
They were once happy, they both were actors, modeling and all that stuff Vil does. Reader barely ever got recognized but one fateful day they did and Vil was upset. Jealous even that reader was getting the spotlight and it damages their relationship with an argument and he says hurtful things and ignores reader. Reader tries to make things right between them but you know how Vil is. So stuckup and selfish and mean. Spitting poison laced words and even spreading rumors about reader damaging his own sisters reputation.
But after Vil overblots and Vil tries to fix his relationship with his sister aka reader, they're like "You decided to talk to me now? After you overblot? It took you so long to realize what you did was wrong? I tried to make things better but you ignored me, neglected me. There's no second chance between us." Or something? (I wanted to give you an idea on what I wanted when I wrote this btw) I want all the angst. So now the reader doesn't like Vil and avoids him at all cost.
Fem or gn reader is fine. But can u do fem? You don't have to if you don't want to.
(I felt like I was too specific and I already did the fic with this ask. I'm sorry if I was too specific and you don't know what to do with this ask ;-;)
Yes of course! And no worries you may have given me an outline but I can provide the details! I actually made a couple posts about Vil as a sibling (good and bad relationship) where the beginning of your request kinda matches one of them. So I hope you don't mind but I'm basically going to be writing the second part of your request (after the overblot). I'll link the other parts tho. Many people have been asking for more angst between Vil and Azul as siblings. Especially endings where the reader doesn't forgive them.
the first part
Request rules and masterlists
Vil as a sibling (Broken relationship with no forgiveness)
The one person who you're supposed to be able to rely on at NRC, absolutely hates you
your dear brother Vil had made it very clear
he would insult you, and embarrass you in front of everyone
he was going to be the most beautiful, and he would tear down anyone who got in his way
it doesn't matter that you're his sister
eventually he managed to insult you enough that everyone started to avoid you and hate you just as he did
you had even tried to make things better between you two
but he didn't accept that
he wouldn't stop as long as there was a chance someone could see you as better than him
so he pushed you away and only insulted you further
he even told you that he had no interest in ever being close with you
eventually, you gave up on even trying
you simply wanted a good relationship with your brother
and he's done nothing but hate you and try to ruin you
after everything he's done, you were tired of it
he hated you, so why should you give him the time?
you refused to continue just taking this treatment
now the two of you were just avoiding each other
not even talking or in the same space
after his overblot, Vil had taken the time to reflect on his actions
and he deeply regrets how he treated you
is it so bad that it's his sister who gets some of the spotlight?
surely he should be able to accept it if it's you
so Vil tries to work on it
it can take him a bit because he has to figure out the right way to speak to you after everything
one day, he walked up to you and tried to casually start a conversation
"What have you been up to recently?"
a simple conversation starter really
but you weren't just going to give in and forgive him after everything
"You decided to talk to me now? After you overblot? It took you so long to realize what you did was wrong? I tried to make things better but you ignored me, neglected me. There's no second chance between us."
with that, you just walked away
there was no way you could forgive him after everything
your reputation and even part of your confidence have suffered because of him
he was just so cruel to you for so long that it wasn't possible to forgive him
throughout the next few weeks, Vil was lingering in spaces around you
like he was testing to see if you would change your mind
you wouldn't
it was way to late for him to try and make things right
he even had sent some gifts to your room like that would make it better and get you to talk to him
as you continued to ignore him and his efforts, he eventually backed off
he couldn't force you to like him (he wanted to tho)
he completely understood why you didn't want to forgive him for everything
and while he respected your decision, he still cared about you despite it all
he kept his distance, but was still looking out for you
if he heard someone talking bad about you or causing you trouble, he would still defend you while keeping his distance
Vil holds on to the secret hope that you would someday forgive him
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Qualifications of Critique
Fem!Reader Words: 1130
AN: This is very much a test to see if I can write him in character. Also, my first time posting a fic for HSR
Dr. Ratio flipped the page of the chemistry book he had begun to study enjoying the peace and quiet of the university library. A welcome change of pace after spending most of the day grading papers that hadn’t met his standards. There were a handful of students he had hoped to step to the plate but only a few of that group continued to show promise—a pity.
The library had been mostly quiet only gaining more silence as students left for the day. Something he would have done himself if not for the horribly late faculty meeting that had been scheduled in a few more hours.
There was the quiet tapping of heels against the carpet floor getting ever louder. It was an easy sound to ignore but should have served more as a warning with the voice that spoke from behind him. “If it isn’t the worst teacher to ever grace the cosmos.”
He closed the book, turning his head around to see one of the professors who worked there alongside him. She stood there with a bag around her shoulder and her arms crossed. “Excuse me?” He asked, already annoyed that his break had been interrupted.
“I’m being asked, actually that’s the wrong word. I’m being told to move my classroom to make room for a new study hall dedicated to trying to improve the rate of three percent of your students passing.” She complained.
”Don’t take this up with me. It’s not my fault your class was being moved.” He stood up. It would be best to go back to his office and lock the door if he wanted any ounce of peace.
”It is. This study hall wouldn’t have been created if you were better at your job.” She glared up at him, tapping her shoe attempting to calm herself down at the information she had recently been told.
”Have you considered that these students should have to work at grasping the material? It isn’t my fault that they are too foolish to understand simple concepts.” His book had been abandoned on the table.
”Of course, it’s simple to you. You already know it!” Y/N rolled her eyes at his reasoning. “How can you be so smart but still not even understand that being a good teacher means your students should be passing your class?” Any students still lingering around in the library were rushing to pack their things with hushed gossip over the argument that was unfolding.
Arguments between the two of them were slowly becoming famous across campus. Students and professors wondered when the tension between them would finally break. As entertaining as they could be to watch, no one wanted to risk being caught in the crossfire and being forced to take a side.
”I am passing those who put in the work. That’s what should be done.”
”I’m not saying to just pass everyone. Yes, pass those who put in the work. But you also should be putting the work in to make sure they have a chance at understanding the work that is being asked of them.” She explained. It wasn’t like that should be a hard thing to comprehend.
”I put the effort in.”
The bag on her shoulder fell to the floor as she uncrossed her arms. “You do not. You talk a big game of ridding the world of ignorance but can't even take the time to learn how to be a better teacher to do just that!” Her bag had been left on the floor as she took steps forward, shortening the distance between the two of them. “It's such a joke that you consider yourself so smart but are too stupid to see that.”
The distance between them was almost closed as they stood near each other. She had been the only person in this university to challenge his intelligence. Other professors had been quick to praise him but she focused on pointing out his faults to say where he could improve. It was infuriating but a welcomed difference to see someone who could clearly think for themselves.
“I don't see how insulting me adds to your critique of my teaching abilities. I'm not even sure if this qualifies as a critique.”
“Have you ever done a critique yourself? It involves saying what should be improved and then offering advice to guide that person in the right direction, sometimes showing them step-by-step what to do. It makes the base for anyone even interested in teaching. I’m surprised that critique is even in your vocabulary.” 
His eyes didn’t mean to wander down at her lips. Glossed to absolute perfection as she spoke a mix of insults and advice. “Do you ever shut up?” He asked, missing the peace and quiet that the library was known for before she had stepped in.
“Occasionally when those I am conversing with have value to add. If you would take the time to reflect on what I have been saying we wouldn’t have to keep having this conversation. Do you understand how your actions have an effect on me?”
“I wasn’t aware that you would let others have any sort of effect on you.”
“It’s when I’m able to move on with my life. You just keep causing me roadblocks. First, my program loses funding that gets diverted to yours because you have a big name. Now I lose my classroom for a study hall for students struggling with your class. What are you going to change in my life next? I would at least appreciate some sort of warning.”
“If that is what you would consider life changing then I believe we are both using separate definitions.”
She rolled her eyes before speaking in a sarcastic tone. “Oh won't the great Veritas Ratio enlighten me then.”
Maybe it was the way that she knew how to stand her ground against him. Or maybe it was that she saw the humanity within him to acknowledge his flaws instead of defaulting to praise like others had. Could it have been that when she came to complain about his teaching she treated the argument more like a debate something that could be seen past the insults? 
He placed his hand underneath her chin holding her gaze on him. Y/N let out a small gasp. “Veritas…” The boldness in her voice had dropped into almost a whisper. “I meant a definition, not this.”
“Everything you said has made it sound like you pride yourself on a proper example.”
“So you do know how to listen. You’re just horrible at application.” She leaned her head to the side, her boldness only dropping momentarily as it returned to her voice. “We should revisit what a life-changing moment is once your class has upped the passage rate.”
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 3 months
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but daddy, i love him - m. murdock
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a/n: hey guys it has been a month since i posted a fic but. i wanted to write this blurb and see what i could do. remember folks-- you can't choose your dad but you can choose your daddy. happy fathers day. warnings: cursing, mentions of readers father being awful, cheating at poker, a suggestive ending, mommy and daddy kink (not in a conventional way) word count: 1.3k summary: your matthew finally comes up with a way to get back at your dad. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: but daddy, i love him - taylor swift "screaming 'but daddy, i love him'/i'm having his baby/no i'm not/but you should see your faces'
He listens to your anxious heartbeat all the way to your dad’s house. He knows you’re nervous. He knows you can’t help it. It’s years of manipulation and trauma built up, but this year, he tells you, is different.
You started dating Matt just after Father’s Day last year—So he does not understand the horrors associated with it. Sure, he’s met your dad a few times. Christmas, once or twice throughout the year..
And while your dad loves Matt, because he puts on a smile and a charming laugh, Matt hates your dad. He cannot fucking stand him, mostly because he spends most of the year comforting you after your dad pulls something.
So when you told Matt about the yearly poker match that he hosts on Father’s Day, your lovely Daredevil boyfriend decided that the only thing he wanted for the holiday was to see you happy.
The plan was easy.
He would listen to the other players’ cues, and tap your hand once to bet, twice to call, three times to raise. Then, from there, he’d read the nerves of your opponents and write the initial of whatever he thought was best to do from there.
And it’s not like you let your father win, either. You and your siblings do your best to beat him, but every year, he manages to find a way to win. You suspect he’s cheating.
But as you pull into the driveway, Matt’s head tilts.
“Baby,” he starts, his tone dripping with affection, “You need to relax, or else you’ll never be able to win,” he tells you, “Your dads gonna be able to read you like a book.”
You sighed, taking a deep breath. You manage a soft smile before nodding.
“You’re right. Ready to go in?” You ask, and Matt’s hand finds yours. He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it.
“I am.” He hums.
• • •
As your dad deals out the cards, Matt finds himself sitting right next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. He’s usually affectionate, so no one bats an eye.
He looks at your Matthew, before asking,
“You playin’, Matt?”
Matt smirks and takes a sip of his beer. He’s not only playing, but he’s already won. Sure, a poker face is hard to maintain, but a nervous heartbeat is impossible to hide from Matt. Not only that, but the nervous sweat, or small bouncing of a leg or a finger that you might think was hidden. Matt could read easily.
Of course, Only you and him know that. And sure, it’s pretty much cheating, but you have been losing to your dad in poker and have listened to him brag about it for years on end, since you aren’t playing for money, only bragging rights.
Besides, your dad is a piece of shit and has done nothing but manipulate and torment you, driving you crazy, for as long as you can remember.
So, fuck ‘em.
“Somehow,” Matt replies after a moment, “I don’t think I’d have much fun with cards.” He tells him, and you and your siblings, as well as an uncle or two and your grandfather, laugh. Your dad’s face hardens as if he’s been one-upped.
You play cards for a while—Going on three hours by the time it gets down to just you and your dad. Your brother was the first one out, then went your sister and uncle, then your other uncle and grandfather. You stand face to face with the beast. And you’re so close to winning.
Matt listens as he deals the cards. When he glanced to the card, Matt takes a moment to listen. He tells you to raise with his finger, and you do. Your dad scoffs.
“That’s a dumb move.”
“Why?” Matt answers you. “Scared to be beat by your own kid?” he asks, and his voice is teasing, but when you listen to his voice for a second, you can hear the snark, the venom laced within. The devil has come out to play.
And he is insistent on you winning.
Your dad scoffs, shaking his head.
“This one? Not one bit.” He hums, placing his cards down, what you recognize to be a tell of his bluff. You don’t need Matt to tell you to go in for it, because you realize you know this game, and you know this man. He is so close to winning that he thinks if he can convince you that he has a good hand, you will probably believe it.
So, you go all in.
And Matt just leans back, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as his smile grows. The other players that are out of the game stare at you like you’ve just thrown the whole game away. But Matt begins to hear your Dad’s heart stutter.
But you study his face, and you have to give it to the man, despite the fact that you’d never ever give him credit, he has an incredible poker face. Luckily, not only do you have a boyfriend who helps you win, you also learned a long time ago that your father is gifted in lying.
He is also incredibly egotistical, so he goes all in too.
So, when it’s time to reveal cards, your dad smirks.
“Flush.” He tells you.
A thick silence fills the air, before you turn over your cards.
“Four of a kind.” You smirk, and your father’s face drops. Matt and your siblings start clapping as you start laughing, and everyone in your dad’s backyard quickly learns that there is a new Father’s Day poker champion.
You grin as you lean over to Matt, kissing his cheek.
“My lucky charm.” You say, scrunching your nose at him.
He sends you a wink back.
• • •
You ride the high of beating your dad all night, giggling softly as you stumble out back to the car. He holds your hand as you lean on him.
“I cannot believe we fucking did that,” You tell him. “That was amazing!” You grin, and he laughs.
“You’re amazing! You went all in and I didn’t even have to tell you!” He grins. You sigh, leaning back against your car. Matt’s arms wrap around your waist. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, and you hum happily.
“Happy Father’s Day,” You whisper as you kiss repeatedly, the passion between you growing. His arms move from around your waist, to moving his hands up and down your sides.
“Mmm..” is all he hums back.
“How can I say thank you for today?” You ask him, and he pushes his body against yours.
“Maybe you could give me something to celebrate next year..” He says softly. You smirk.
“You want me to make you a daddy?” You ask, and he groans against your skin.
“Mm, Maybe.” He says quietly, leaning in to kiss your ear. “What do you think, Mommy? Wanna go home and continue to feel good?” He questions, biting the skin right below your ear.
“As long as you keep kissing me like that, daddy.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss him again before biting his lip, tugging on it a bit.
“Now that’s something I can do. Easily.” He smirks. His lips come down to start kissing your neck, leaving little kisses and bites on your neck. “You’re gonna make such a pretty mommy..” He tells you, his hands squeezing your thighs. He thinks he might go crazy if he doesn’t get a hold of you, a better taste.
His mind runs wild with thoughts of all the things he could do to you. You cannot stop thinking about making him a father, about him filling you up.
You love the holidays.
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vampykween · 10 months
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hi mic :D
i just read your toxic!husband!ghost fics and would like to ask if u could write one where the reader just gives up on their relationship, maybe they finally file for divorce?
loved your writing btw! ♡
hi hi! thank u! i’m so glad y’all are enjoying toxichusband!ghost hehe
i hope i did your idea justice. i have a problem with just letting asks get away from me oops! but kiss ur brain for this idea cause i loved this! i get way too excited writing angsty stuff
you would realize you’ve had enough on the most random of days. after looking after your kids all day and finally getting your house cleaned, laundry all done. simon would come home and not even stop to greet you. he instantly strips from his fatigues and tosses them somewhere on the couch, turns on the tv to watch the game, and kicks up his feet and perches them on the clean coffee table. just the sight of him makes your blood boil. you make a mental note right then to talk to a divorce lawyer cause jesus you couldn’t take anymore of this.
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you’ve been agonizing over doing this for the past week. hidden in your nightstand drawer was an envelope that was going to change your life forever, and not just yours, your children’s lives too. that thought has stifled your desire for a divorce just ever so slightly, as much as you can’t take a loveless marriage anymore you know your kids will be hurt by this.
you and simon are lounging in your bed and you’re losing your edge to serve him the papers. you’re worn out from cooking dinner and doing the usual nighttime routine with the kids. you suck in a deep breath and remind yourself that this decision is for the best; you don’t deserve to be chained down by someone who won’t appreciate you.
“simon…”
“yeah?” he doesn’t look up from whatever he’s engrossed in on his phone and you roll your eyes exasperatedly. you’re swiftly reminded why you’re in this position.
“i- um, we need to talk.” god your palms were sweaty and your heart was hammering in your chest. why was this so much harder than you thought it would be. simon still doesn’t give you his attention and you figure you should just rip the bandaid off already.
your shaky hands open the nightstand drawer and fish out the large yellow envelope you’ve been holding onto for the past week. you nudge his shoulder with enough force to get him to look up at you, and shove the envelope in his now free hand.
he quirks an eyebrow at you curiously, “the hell is this?”
you gulp painfully and whisper at him to just open it. his large digits tear open the paper easily and as he’s scanning through the lengthy paper, you can see it clear on his face the moment he realizes what’s happening. he turns his body fully towards yours and you can see the fury in his eyes.
“have you lost your fuckin’ head. why on earth would ya want a divorce?” the bass in your husband’s voice rattles his words around in your head, simon doesn’t yell often, but god do you hate it when he does.
“simon, i just can’t anymore.” his eyes bulge incredulously at your words, but you ignore his idiotic look and continue. “i’m constantly bending over backwards to do everything for this family and you don’t even appreciate it. hell it doesn’t feel like you love me at all.”
“fuckin’ hell. you think you’re the only one putting in work for this family. what do you think i’m doing all day? and when i’m deployed? ya think i’m just fuckin’ around for fun?”
“oh my- are you serious?! of course i know that you work hard to provide for this family. did you even listen to a word i just said? i have to nag you to clean, to do laundry, to stop giving the kids all the things i tell them they can’t have. i have to literally beg you to kiss me and take me on dates! you never tell me you love me anymore simon!”
the rage behind simon’s eyes dims and he grasps both your hands in his. “love. baby, please you can’t leave me. you’re right, you do so much for us all and i know im shit about saying thank you, but who’s going to do all the stuff ya do if you leave?”
your face starts to grow hot as you begin to boil over with anger. you rip your hands from his hold forcibly. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me! you can’t even convince me to stay because you love me. you want me here so i can do everything for you. you know what? fuck you! i’m so sorry your poor mommy is gone and you need someone to fill that void, and i was stupid enough to play that role for this long, but i’m not doing it anymore.”
“oh you’re a fuckin’ cunt for that. bringing up my mum, you’re fucked in the head!” simon barks at you. you should feel bad, it was a low blow, but you couldn’t care less.
you scramble out of the bed, storming around the room looking for a pen. you’re throwing open drawers with so much force they’re just a hair from ripping straight out. when you eventually find one, you thrust it into simon’s large hand.
“don’t fucking care. you’re an absolute piece of shit. sign the fucking papers, please, so i no longer have to hold back the urge to kill you with my bare hands.”
“what about the kids? you’re just gonna take them away from me?! if you do, i’ll spend every day trying to remind them they’ve got a right bitch for a mum,” simon sneers at you.
all the love you had for simon has vanished, but hearing him say he’d spend eternity making sure your kids hated you? that tore your heart in two. your throat begins to constrict as tears begin to build behind your eyes. you really didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you were suddenly hit with the realization that the life you dreamed of was never going to be real.
you think back to your wedding day, your husband had written the most beautiful vows, which shocked you as you hadn’t expected him to be able to express his love for you that way. he had promised to always make you feel like you deserved the world. suddenly you woke up one day and the man you once loved was gone, replaced by a shitty, co-dependent, workaholic who sucked out all the life in you.
in this moment, you simply prayed that one day, you wouldn’t feel like every choice you made lead to this terrible life you have now.
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