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#Working out how this would all come to pass
barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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familia ii || alexia putellas x reader ||
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a couple of the struggles of your first child with alexia.
part i
alexia brushed her hand against the back of your knuckles. she hadn't taken her eyes off of you for the past hour. out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the way that her body sagged and threatened to fall forward. still, alexia sat dilligently watching over you in the hospital room.
"ale, come here please," you said weakly. alexia's head snapped over to the hospital bed. you had moved over a little, just enough to make room for her to lay with you. alexia knew what you wanted, and she wasn't in any sort of mood to deny you. not after what you had just put yourself through to make her happy.
"are you having trouble sleeping?" alexia's voice was full of concern. she knew that you hated sleeping in new places. that wasn't what was keeping you away, however. alexia's staring and occasional knee-bouncing right next to your bed was the cause of your restlessness.
"cuddle me, please." you pouted as you stared up at alexia. she was more than happy to crawl into the bed with you. almost immediately, both of you fell right asleep in the hospital bed. you don't know how, but you managed to get a good night's sleep all cramped up in alexia's arms.
when the morning came, you had your fair share of visitors in the form of alexia's friends and family. a few friends that you had made stopped by, but your family was too far away to make it on such short notice, not that you expected them to. alexia's family doubled as your family now, especially since you had fallen pregnant.
most of the visitors were just passing through, but mapi, ingrid, alba, and eli stayed all day. they helped alexia move you and the newborn baby home. you had never thought that you'd have such a good support system in your life. they did everything for you except for feed the baby. you noticed that ingrid in particular stayed very close to you and the baby.
"have you ever thought of having a baby with maria?" you asked. ingrid bit her lip as she gave you a small nod. you knew that she was nervous to bring it up again, but you had been watching the way that maria melted whenever ingrid held your daughter. "you should. the two of you are in a good place, and there might be an opening for the apartment across the hall."
"do you really want those two together even more?" ingrid asked as she motioned towards where alexia, mapi, and alba were standing. alexia and mapi had joined up to shove alba back and forth. it was probably more than annoying for alba, but you loved the look on alexia's face as she laughed.
"i don't mind it most of the time. besides, we wouldn't have to be in the same place as them constantly," you reminded ingrid. she did seem to like the sound of that and agreed to look into the apartment across the hallway. they were large apartments, so you wouldn't have any more neighbors on the floor.
loud wails seemingly echoed through the hallway of your apartment. it was pitch black outside, the kind that it only ever was in the odd hours of the morning. alexia had gone back to training and her usual duties, so you were taking on a bit more with the baby. that meant you tried to get every late-night feeding or diaper change that came up. tonight wasn't going to be an exception, not with alexia going in for an important meeting in a few hours.
"jaime, baby, what's wrong?" you cooed as you stepped into the nursery. your daughter wouldn't answer, but you hoped that the sound of your voice would work. of course, it hadn't, not even as you said all the things you'd heard alexia say before.
you had carried jaime for nine months, but that girl was obsessed with alexia. at times, you felt like a failure for almost never being able to comfort your baby. in almost all of the books, it had warned about the other parent struggling to make a connection. the thought had never occured to you that it could be the other way around.
"shh, please don't cry," you begged and pleaded with jaime. however, it was too late. you heard alexia's footsteps, and once she had entered the room, jaime seemed to calm down. "i'm so sorry. i-i-," "it's okay, just go lay down. i've got this," alexia said. she took jaime from you and managed to get her down before you had gotten back to the bedroom. alexia wasn't sure what to expect when she got back, but it wasn't for you to be nearly sobbing into your pillow.
alexia got into bed with you and pulled you away from the pillows. her arms felt nice, but you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had one job, one agreed-upon job. you were supposed to take care of the baby, and it felt like you couldn't even do that. alexia was being patient with you, but even her patience had its limits.
"talk to me," alexia ordered. she had been worried about you for the past month and a half. alexia had stayed by your side for the entire offseason, and things should have clicked for you by now, but they hadn't.
"i'm a failure. jaime hates me, i don't get it." this time, you openly sobbed into her shirt. alexia was afraid for a moment that you'd wake the baby with how intense your crying was. she had a meeting that day, but it was going to be pushed back. there was no way she could leave you to do anything on your own when you were so obviously burnt out.
"alexia!" you groaned as eli yelled at her daughter. jaime was supposed to be down for tummy time, but alexia had continuously been picking the baby up instead. the doctors said that jaime was healthy, just a bit behind developmentally. you had been a bit beside yourself at the news, and alexia wasn't making it any better. "put her down!"
"mami, she was whining. she hates being down there by herself," alexia tried, but it was no use.
"then go down there with her, but do not pick her up," eli ordered. you hadn't expected eli to play the bad cop with alexia when it came to jaime, but you were grateful for it. alexia had warned you before jaime was even born that eli had been waiting for years to be a grandmother. there was no way she wasn't babying and spoiling her first grandchild, but alexia's mother had surprised you in putting her foot down when alexia wouldn't.
it wasn't surprising to you when alexia got down onto the floor. jaime barely ever seemed to crawl around when the doctors had told you she should be starting to stand up. you had been fighting with alexia about keeping jaime on the floor longer, but alexia always picked her up whenever you weren't looking. she didn't have the chance with eli there watching her like a hawk.
"mami, look at her. she wants to be held." alexia looked genuinely distraught as jaime began to whine a little.
"then you check on her to see if she needs something. there will be trouble if you coddle her for too long," eli warned. alexia brushed the warning off and took jaime into the kitchen to see if she wanted a bottle. "you need to put your foot down with alexia better."
"i don't want to start a fight." you were careful in choosing your words. eli didn't know about the arguments between you and alexia about coddling jaime. alexia had crossed a few lines resulting in you staying over with ingrid while mapi knocked some sense into your wife. "ale just hates to see her upset, that's all."
"how are the two of you doing? alba mentioned that she can't seem to get the two of you to brunch at the same time," eli was gentle with her prodding, but it was still prodding nonetheless.
"we have had some arguments, but nothing too permanent," you told her. eli didn't quite believe you, or at least she didn't believe that you were relaxed about this. she had seen how you and alexia were, how terrified you got whenever alexia seemed a bit annoyed. eli knew that one of your biggest fears was that alexia would leave you.
"if you need help with the big baby, let me know," eli told you. you chuckled a little and nodded. there had been times when you wished that you had eli's help while arguing with alexia. the woman could be acting like an asshole all week, but would immediately be on her best behavior if her mother was there.
"mummy!" jaime squealed as she reached for you from alexia's arms. lately, you had been jaime's favorite person, which was making alexia jealous. you could see the way that her jaw clenched as jaime began to scream and wail until you took her out of alexia's arms. "mummy."
"yes, mummy's here," you cooed softly. jaime rested her head against your shoulder as you walked her around. alexia watched from the couch as you got jaime settled down enough to rest in her playpen. once she was down and asleep, you joined alexia on the couch.
"she hates me," alexia grumbled. "i left for a tournament, and now she fucking hates me."
"alexia, she doesn't hate you. she just isn't used to you being back all the time. when you left, she was in shambles, it took a lot to get her to stop crying all the time. you weren't here, so you didn't see how we got to this point," you told her. it was a second too late when you realized that you had said the wrong thing as alexia's face fell.
"yeah, i wasn't here. that's the point," alexia raised her voice at you, something that hadn't happened since she came back. "you told me to leave, and then i had the euros camps. is this what you wanted all along?"
"ale, why would i want jaime to hate you?" you asked her. you hoped that it would help her realize how ridiculous she sounded, but it seemed to do the opposite instead.
"because you were so torn up about before. you and mi madre plotting behind my back. how many times did you go running to her before she told me that i had to go back home with her for a bit?" alexia asked you. she was slowly getting louder and louder. you didn't want to leave jaime in the living room all by herself, but you had to get alexia out of there. you knew she'd follow you to keep the fight going, so you got up and walked to the bedroom. "now you're walking away from me, ridiculous! we aren't done here."
"did you only come back to fight with me and see jaime?" you asked her. alexia paused, not having expected you to bite back. normally, you just sort of took whatever she threw at you until you had a chance to text or call eli or alba. you didn't have the energy to fight and make up with alexia in the same night. "because i can't do that, alexia. i'll go stay with ingrid or something and we'll work out a schedule, but if you are going to act like this, i'm not staying here anymore."
alexia seemed to realize that she had really fucked up because she immediately began to apologize and plead with you. "that's not what i want, (y/n), i swear. when i left, that was my little girl. she adored me, but now she cries when i'm in her arms. it's like she can tell that i've been bad. i'm sorry for snapping at you, i don't know what's wrong with me."
"you're stressed ale. jaime is picking up on the stress. there's nothing wrong with you to make our daughter hate you. she's still your little girl. do you think you can handle staying here while i go to ingrid's for a little while? i just want to calm down," you told her. alexia nodded. you could see that she wanted to hug or kiss you, but knew that you were mad at her. "i love you, ale."
"i love you too. i'll be better, i swear," alexia promised you. you pressed a kiss to her cheek on your way out. alexia ran a hand through her hair, let you leave the apartment, and then went back to watch jaime as she slept.
you laid curled up in alexia's arms as mapi laid on the grass with jaime. they were playing some game together, one that they had been playing inside originally. ingrid had shooed them outside at alejandro and manuel's naptime. you smiled as you watched the scene in front of you as mapi and jaime played together with ingrid watching from the porch.
"she's getting so big," alexia whispered in your ear. she ducked her head down a bit to press a kiss to the side of your jaw.
"yes, she is. i think it's the putellas genes. she's got your height," you told her. alexia hummed in agreement. jaime was nearly half a head taller than the other kids her age. she was also the spitting image of alexia, despite having your more reserved nature. next year, she'd be old enough to start with soccer, and alexia was so excited.
"if we start the treatments again soon and they go well, we could have a baby by my next birthday," alexia mentioned casually.
"i don't remember asking you what you wanted for your birthday," you teased. alexia scoffed as she gave you a little nudge. "i think that i'd like that too, but you would be playing for a lot of the pregnancy. are you okay with missing appointments?"
"back and forth. i'd like to retire with my girls on the pitch with me," alexia told you. you smiled at the thought of alexia giving her speech with you, jaime, and a second baby by her side.
"how do you know that we'll have another girl?" you asked her. to be fair, alexia had been pretty accurate in telling you beforehand how jaime would be.
"i don't for sure, but i've got a feeling. so, what do you say?" alexia asked you.
"i'd like that. the plan was three, wasn't it?"
"it was, but i'd like to carry the last one. i want to give you something as special as what you've given me." alexia pulled you in for a kiss, one that was only broken at the exaggerated gags of mapi and jaime.
"ew, gross mami!" jaime squealed. her squeals mixed with laughter as alexia got up and scooped jaime into her arms. alexia alternated between tossing jaime up and peppering the little girl's face in kisses. "te amo, mami."
"te amo mucho, jaime. your spanish getting much better," alexia said. jaime beamed at the praise. jaime had taken to english, but struggled with her spanish to the point where alexia wondered if they'd ever get around to catalan."
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coco-loco-nut · 1 day
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Stolen
pairing: grid x wolff reader
summary: the grid just can’t help but steal you any time you show up to a race, you just want to pass your classes
a/n: short blurb! thanks for the request, sorry it took so long 🫶
requests open masterlist
—————
“Pup, come look at this,” Lando drags you away from the Mercedes garage, where you just sat down.
“Lando, I just got here. Can’t I relax on my day off?” you pout. Every time you come to the track, someone is stealing you from your parents. That’s what happens when you are raised on the track.
“Ah, Miss Wolff, how is school going,” Zak asks when Lando drags you in.
“It’s going. Today is my day off, I was going to spend it with my parents,” you give Lando a pointed look.
“Quit complaining, come on,” Zak shakes his head as Lando drags you away.
“What did you want to show me?” you sigh as Lando leads you to his drivers room.
“My new line, a hoodie for you,” Lando hands you a soft hoodie.
“Thank you, but you couldn’t bring it to me?” you frown.
“But then I wouldn’t be able to hang out with you,” he pouts.
“You want to hang out with a teenager? I appreciate your friendship Lando, but I need to study for my exams and it’s hard to do that when everyone steals me from the garage,” you tell him, hoping he understands since he finished school while racing.
“I do, you are fun. I also get that you have to study, even if it is your day off school. I’ll see you later?” Lando says, hugging you.
“Yeah,” you hug him back before going back to Mercedes. On the way back you get stolen by Logan, Zhou, Fred, and Christian, meaning you lost an hour of study time.
“Alright Christian, give me my daughter back,” Toto shakes his head when he finds you in the Red Bull garage after your SOS text.
“Bye Uncle Christian,” you give him a little salute as you walk out with your dad.
“I can send out a message asking everyone to stop kidnapping you,” Toto suggests, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“No, don’t, it makes them so happy,” you chuckle, even if you are a little annoyed. You grew up in the paddock and loved everyone here.
“Whatever you say. Why don’t you use my office to study? Maybe that will help,” he says, leading you to the motorhome.
“She can use my driver room, no one will look for her there,” George chimes in. He and Lewis will always be your favorite current drivers, even if they are trying to set you up with Kimi or Ollie. George’s idea works, and you get a couple quality hours to do your work.
“Sweetheart, it’s time for George to get ready for the practice session,” your mom pops in as you are putting your books away.
“Thank you, Georgie,” you hug the driver who hugs you back.
“Carmen is waiting for you with a coffee,” George winks, stepping into his room. Your mom takes you to hospitality where you find Carmen waiting.
“You are the best older sister ever,” you say, taking the iced coffee from her.
“I figured you needed something after the boys bothered you all day,” she laughs. The two of you watch the practice with your mom, watching the boys pull out a P3 and P4 for FP1.
“That’s it, Kid, you are staying here all weekend and every race,” Lewis tells you once he’s back in the garage. You are his good luck charm, he’s called you that since you were little.
instagram
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georgerussell63 great weekend for the fam 👊 oh and ig @/ynwolff was there too
lewishamilton just two guys and their dad
ynwolff this is me erasure 😭
ynwolff dislike button ➡️
jensonbutton what did i do other than help raise you, Pup 🥺
ynwolff sorry uncle jense, love you 🫶
mercedesamgf1 if the rest of the grid would stop stealing my daughter, she’d be in this picture 😐 - toto
scuderiaferrari No. - Fred
landonorris I agree with Fred
williamsracing technically we had the Wolff family first…
user1 find someone who looks at you the way the merc team looks at each other
ynwolff ew, no that’s my dad and older brothers
user2 LMFAO
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twstedreamweaver · 3 days
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Missing Magazines
Octavinelle with a Fashion Model Reader
How would the Octavinelle boys react to you being a model? Based on the premise that you, the reader, are a model and are featured in a popular fashion magazine that Sam sells at the school - except when you go to buy one, you realize that someone bought out almost all the magazines. Who could it be?
Things to mention: Azul never stopped signing contracts with people and the Octotrio are still shady. Reader is slightly different from canon Yuu. Also, this is my first fanfic, so I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies with POV! Twisted Boys featured: Azul, Jade, Floyd
The warm sun was a welcome surprise after several dreary weeks of intermittent rains and grey skies. Throngs of students were happily milling about on the central lawn, some boys from Savanaclaw were throwing a Spelldrive Disc like a frisbee, and you spotted some Ignihyde students actually touching grass for once.
With the passing of the Spring rains, Night Raven College seemed to spring back to life with the touch of a little sunshine.
And just in time for the release of the summer edition of one of the top magazines in Twisted Wonderland, Fleurs de la mode. However, this edition was special - it was your first official modeling gig for a fashion magazine.
Admittedly, when you were first scouted by a modeling agent at the NRC's Song and Dance Championship, you were hesitant (I mean, after dealing with the outrageous amount of con artists at NRC, who wouldn't be skeptical), but the Fleur City Associates modeling agency turned out to be legitimate. After some back and forth with your agent, and several gigs later, you got the opportunity to model for a popular fashion magazine on account of your unique "otherworldly'" flair, which you assumed was a weird compliment from one of your managers. Regardless, your nerves had long since worn off with the first paycheck (thaumarks are hard to come by) and now you were excited to see your hard work in print.
"Welcome back, my little imp." Sam waved from behind the counter. "What can I conjure for you today?"
"Good morning, Sam!" You smiled, "I heard that you just got in the newest edition of Fleurs, could I buy one off you?"
Sam gave you a peculiar look, before smiling - wait, was that a trace of a smirk?
"I do apologize little imp, but I am fresh out of stock. Those magazines flew off the shelves this morning."
"Wait, but didn't you just open like thirty minutes ago?"
You were a bit disappointed. On one hand, you didn't really need the magazine, but on the other hand, it would've been nice to have at least some proof of your accomplishment in this strange world. At a school where magic was the highest priority, it was nice to finally be known for something that wasn't just your lack of magic ability.
"Yes but, eh hee hee, it seems the magazine was quite popular this time around." Sam snickered. You sighed.
"However," Sam continued, "You've lucked out this time little imp, For the same price as a magazine, I can tell you who bought out half my stock. I'm certain that you can get one from him for free!"
"Thanks Sam, for the, uh, considerate offer, but I think I'll pass!" You remarked, trying to think of who might have bought out such a large stock of magazines.
"Are you certain, my little imp?" Sam leaned over the counter, smiling, a bit too maliciously for your liking. "Don't you want to see your magazine debut firsthand?" Huh?
You were only featured on a few pages, so how did he even know you were in there? Did he actually read the fashion magazine? Looking at his attire, you find that highly doubtful.
"How'd you know about that?" You inquired, trying not to sound overtly suspicious.
"Why else would so many imps be standing in line outside my shop at seven in the morning?" Sam, for sure, was smirking this time.
No way. How did this get around? You felt your face go hot, suddenly embarrassed. Hold on, you reasoned with yourself. Vil is a model too, along with some other Pomefiore students, so students modeling shouldn't be a shock to anyone!
But if the reason the magazines sold out so quickly was - that is, if Sam's not tricking you - because of your shoot, then why would anyone buy half of the entire stock? Especially at Sam's ridiculous prices.
You sighed; you'll figure this out later.
"I'm good, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going to my next class." You quickly backed away from Sam and ducked out the front door before he could cut you off with another suspicious offer.
"Come back anytime little imp!" The door swinging shut behind you as Sam big you goodbye.
God, was there a single good person in this school??
Wait, a realization suddenly hit you. The guy who bought half the magazines, was it-
——-
You practically stomped across the school, through the mirror room, and into the Octavinelle dorm.
You didn't lie to Sam earlier; you really did have to go to class. And then after four classes and nearly eight hours, you had to go to club. So, now it was practically late afternoon, and you were only now on your mission to hunt down the buyer of some 60+ magazines.
The moment you stepped inside Mostro Lounge, two tall, ominous figures seemed to materialize directly beside you.
"Hello Jade. Hey Floyd."
"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, before wrapping his long arms around your torso and squeezing tightly.
"Now now, Floyd," Jade smirked, "Let's not squeeze the life out of our little Prefect."
"I'm here to discuss some things with Azul." You told the two 6-foot-tall eels.
You must have sounded agitated because Floyd and Jade quickly took the hit and grabbed onto each of your arms respectively and dragged walked me to the VIP room.
"Now then, who are we to interfere with your business affairs?" Jade let go of your left arm to open the large, ornate VIP room doors.
"Only VIP access for our Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, striding into the VIP room where some student was groveling on his hands and knees, begging Azul for something. I noticed that he had a small anemone sprouting from his head, looks like Azul got another freshman. Grinning, Floyd roughly grabbed the poor student by his shirt collar and unceremoniously threw him out the door.
Jade sinisterly smiled at the boy, before bending down to say something in a hushed tone, causing the boy to squeal and shuffle away frantically. Jade smirked, stood, and walked over to stand beside the seated and slightly flustered Azul, as Floyd slammed the doors.
For once, and to my astonishment, Azul, usually the pristine image of a savvy businessman, looked a little nervous.
You were surprised that he didn't even object to Floyd tossing his client (more likely his victim, given the anemone) out.
Azul pursued his lips and tented his fingers on the table, before taking a breath and seeming to regain his composure.
"Why, (Y/N), to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?"
Azul typically spoke formally and eloquently, but given your and his relationship as friends, his behavior was a little, unusual. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the fish swimming outside or the mermen in the room.
You chalked it up to your own misunderstanding of the situation, or to Azul already going into business mode to prepare for what was coming.
"I'm here about the Fleur magazines you bought."
For a brief second, the three (well, more like two, Floyd just seemed slightly humored) seemed to go pale. Azul gave you a blank stare, mouth slightly open, and Jade turned away to focus intently on the wall with a trace of a grimace on his face. Floyd chuckled and looked at Azul.
Weirdos. What is up with them today?
"You're reselling those Fleur magazines for a profit, aren't you?" You continued on.
A brief moment passed. Jade turned back to look at you and Azul quickly snapped back to reality with a small laugh and a smirk.
"Yes! Why, you deduce correctly, Prefect, I did buy the remaining stock in order to resell them. They're quite in high demand, given your popularity amongst the student body."
"I apologize if you wanted to buy one, but I couldn't miss such a lucrative and perfectly legal business opportunity!" Azul cloyingly apologized, gesturing with his hands in a show of mock apology.
Floyd and Jade nodded along in fake sincerity. Seems you guessed right after all.
"Okay, seeing that you're admitting it, I'm not really that mad. But, also, seeing that you're going to profit off my face, I have a proposal."
The three leaned forward. "Do go on," Azul nodded.
"I can sign my picture in one of the magazines, so you can ramp up the price, and, in return, I can get a free magazine."
"Done!" Azul exclaimed, magically flying over a contract to you. You have no idea how he managed to write one so fast, because it seemingly materialized out of thin air.
The contract wasn't wordy and there were no terms and conditions. You suppose it makes sense given how simple the agreement is, but it still seemed quite hasty.
Regardless, after reading it over twice - it is Azul after all - you signed, and Azul magically lifted the contract and pen into his hands and swiftly slid them into some drawer.
While you were reading the contract, Jade quietly ducked out before returning with two magazines in hand. He hovered over your shoulder, before flipping one magazine open to reveal one of your swimsuit model pictures and setting it on the table for you to sign.
You signed, although it felt a little weird autographing something, but it was best 'business' proposal you could come up with.
Jade handed you the other magazine and Azul stood up. You still find the height difference between him and Tweels humorous, although Azul was still taller than you, so you didn't have much room to judge.
"It's a pleasure doing business with you, (Y/N), as always." Azul smiled, fumbling with something out of view in his desk drawer. "Have a good night."
"Want a drink Shrimpy?" Floyd inquired, placing an arm on your shoulder, turning you away from Azul.
"I would be more than happy to make something to your liking." Jade agreed, leading me out of the room. "On the house." He quickly added.
"As much as I'd love to, I have a tutoring session with Riddle. He saw my grade on last week's midterm and almost exploded on the spot."
"Aah, I haven't seen Goldfishy in a while." Floyd wondered aloud. "Hey, Shrimpy," He smiled, "Let me come with ya."
"Absolutely not," Jade remarked with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have a shift to work Floyd." You have always found the difference between their personalities amusing.
Remembering your appointment, you whipped out your phone to look at the time. Oh no. You had five minutes.
"Shit, I got to go, see you guys later!" You waved and ran off, terrified that you might actually witness Riddle explode this time.
"Goodbye, (Y/N)." "See ya, Shrimpy!"
Two sets of mismatched eyes intently followed you out the door.
------
"JADE." Azul practically screeched, slamming his hands on the table. "Do you know how BADLY that could have gone? Are you insane? You're lucky the prefect thought I was trying to resell them!"
"We're lucky." Jade corrected, carefully and meticulously removing pages from a Fleur magazine at a Mostro Lounge table. Azul threw his hands up in frustration.
"Hey, Azul, I never heard you objecting." Floyd rolled his eyes. "And why are you so embarrassed anyway; you're puffing up like a pufferfish."
"Well now, we have to sell the magazines." Azul huffed to himself and sat down besides Jade and the stack of magazines. "So, stop tearing the merchandise!"
"No." Jade snapped angrily. Realizing, Jade quickly collected himself and returned to his typical collected attitude, resuming his carefully removal of magazine pages, "There is a clear solution - we sell the magazines, just without certain pages featuring the prefect."
Azul stared, deadpan at Jade, clearly exasperated. "And just what are you going to do with half a hundred pictures of the prefect?"
"Remind me, who took one of the magazines after I bought them for 'personal use'?" Jade sneered, meeting Azul's stare, causing Azul to blush and begin stuttering excuses.
"I still don't get why we can't just tell Shrimpy." Floyd shrugged, leaning back in his chair, holding up one of the torn-out magazine pages of (Y/N) standing on a beach, hair blowing in the (fake) wind, dressed in a one-piece swimsuit, with a chic cover-up.
"Absolutely not!" Jade and Azul shouted in unison.
Thankfully, the Mostro Lounge was closed, and no one could hear the three mermen squabbling late into the night.
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devoutekuna · 2 days
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Family bonding
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Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
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Sukuna-
Sukuna never brings his child around his followers, finding them unworthy to grace their eyes upon his offspring. Sat in a vacant room, laid out on the floor as he watched his followers trying to entrain him, dancing around, telling stories or jokes. Nothing could suffice him, a pile of heads adorning the corner of the room, yet to become of everyone. Small giggles being heard from the slightly open door, pink hair sticking out from beside it as he looked at it, hands working magic as he sliced their head off, ushering for the next person. Door slashed open just like those people, leaving wooden remains all around. "Show yourself" crimson eyes peering out from the last standing part of the door. A smile glistening on her face, flashing her canines at him. "Papa!" Running towards the king. A smirk on his face as he felt his daughter's embrace, staring at the one servant who raised their head just for it to be cut off, leaving no witnesses to the matter.
"Next!" Motioning for the next person to come in, only to receive the news that there was nobody left, leaving a pile of corpses in the corner of the room, blood seeping towards him.
Gojo-
"Won't mummy be mad?" Sat in his father's arms as he fought a curse, using his infinity to block all the attacks, still flinching from the idea of them getting through. "Not if she doesn't know" grinning at the little boy, he loved to mess with you, hearing you scold him was some of his favourite highlights. "But still" covering his head in his father's shoulder, white hair rubbing against his neck. "If you're that scared we can go home" exorcising the curse as he looked away, making sure not leave a mess and just use the excuse that it ran away. Kicking his leg into his chest on accident. "No!" Smiling at how much his son wanted to spend time with him.
Nanami-
"If your going to stay in here, help me out" trying to declutter his office. Taking down a box full of files, throwing them onto the sofa since he knew that they were no used to him. Reaching for the next one as he noticed a small pair of hands reaching towards him first. "To me" on her toes as she reached for it, wanting to be helpful like she said. "Don't drop it sweetheart." Handing her the box, noticing how she reacted by lowering her body, waddling over to the sofa since the box was too big for her. "Ooo, what's this daddy?" Pulling out a memory box you two made when you reached your 10 year anniversary. Ripping the box open before he could even get a good look at what she was talking about. Ripping the box from her arms, not knowing what she would discover if she opened it up. "Awh" folding her arms over her chest, trying to act cute to get it back. "Let's leave this up here" straining his arms as he put it back up.
Geto-
He's rambling on about his stupid followers, talking about how useless and belittling them, cup in hand as he took a few sips of the drink before he carried down talking. "Here you go daddy" running up to him with a new glass of milk, having it come out of the microwave, it was warm, but still a little cold. Ripping the other cup from his hands, running back to the kitchen to hand it you. "Thank you sweetheart" smiling at the girl as she seated herself next to him, leaning her body onto his.listening to whatever he had to say despite not understanding the meaning behind it at all. "And then they have the nerve to say something about my actions!" Maybe he was drunk with the way he was acting. Small hands leaning over to grab the felt tips, refusing to get out of her comfortable position only for her father to step in and pass them to her, stroking her hair in the process.
Toji-
"Keep up" strolling in the park, he would've kept his normal quick pace but he had his daughter with him, both dressed up in pyjamas as they walked through the park. He was only here because the lines for the food truck were shorter at nighttime. Nightie swaying in the wind despite her coat. "Wait up daddy!" Running up to him to try and grab his hand, only to grab his fingers because she was too short. Picking the girl up as he sped up, wanting to get back before you woke up since he knew you would scold him.
Sat on the bench eating some ice-cream, it was a quick stop by to the shop before they made it to the food truck since she was so hungry. Wiping the ice-cream off her nose with the spare tissue he had. "We've got to go before your ma' wakes up"
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swordsandholly · 3 days
Text
On the Mend
Ao3 | Chapter One | Next
Captain John Price x fem!plus size!reader
Word Count: 4.1k
MDNI | cw: referenced cheating, divorce, implied alcoholism, age gap, blood/minor injury
Summary: Following his divorce, John Price is adrift - strong armed into going on leave, he decides to use the time to renovate a run down family lake house. He finds himself drawn into an unexpected bond with his peculiar new neighbor who seems equally unable to leave him alone.
When John came home to papers and a set of silver rings on the kitchen counter he didn’t feel surprised. No sense of despair at the lack of shoes by the door or empty closet. No betrayal at the slight layer of dust covering the flat. A layer that had accumulated over the course of coming home two weeks later than planned. Just a a wave of numbness. That sick sort of relief when the bad thing you knew would happen finally does. Something that twists in his gut and hollows out his bones. He knew it was coming sooner or later.
Looks like sooner.
It started in the early fall - though, if he’s honest, he should have seen it coming long before then. Nearly a year of cold shoulders and whispers over the phone spoken in the other room during late hours. Passive nudges and snide comments. Nights spent alone more than together. New clothes and lingerie that he only spotted in passing on laundry day. All his time in the SAS and he didn’t see what was right under his nose. Five simple words that spelled out the end.
“I found someone else, John.”
That’s it. The grand finale to thirteen years.
Of course it’s never simple. What followed was weeks of arguing between - and during - his deployments. Months of lawyers sending information and communications back and forth because face to face talks were no longer getting them anywhere. It’s difficult to process so many years falling apart in such little time. It’s harder still to get over the hurled insults and accusations of stolen youth. The insinuation that he ruined her. The allegation that he never loved her in the first place. That this has been broken for a long, long time, John. How do you not see that?
How didn’t he see it?
At the end of the day, John is good at two things: compartmentalizing and work. It’s just convenient that those two qualities happen to go hand in hand right now. John lives on base full time - got out of that flat as soon as the lease ran out. It’s a waste of money sitting empty for most of the year. More often than that, really, considering he spends every waking moment - when not deployed - in his office or running drills. Never mind the fact that he couldn’t step past the threshold without feeling something shatter in his chest.
Now, six months since the final signatures, the walls John carefully built around the issue have started to wear. Coming loose at the seams - all crumbling brick and thinning mortar. He’s agitated. Frayed at the edges. You wouldn’t know it to look at him. John’s uniform remains crisp as always. His belongings placed in exact order - including the ever growing collection of liquor. His hair is perfectly kept. At a glance, he’s the same as always.
It’s those closest to him that can see it. That take the brunt of it.
Harsh, barking orders at Ghost that would have previously been calm instruction. Sharp reprimands that leave Soap jumpy and flinching. Both give him a wide berth when they can. His drills for the newer recruits became far more difficult with tougher punishments for any sort of acting out. Gaz has avoided his growing wrath for the most part - good at keeping his head down and following orders as needed.
Until today, it seems. An accidental, near deadly failure. The perfect boiling point.
While clearing a building currently housing a potential terrorist cell, one man managed to slip past Gaz. All of them, really, but it was his floor to clear. The man got a shot off on Soap after the Scot tackled him - luckily his vest stopped it. Ghost dropped the adversary and Soap won’t have more than a bruised rib and a couple weeks of rest but it could have been worse. Much, much worse.
Gaz knew he was fucked when the Captain went silent. John barely looked him in the eye and didn’t say anything more than necessary on their way back to base. A single grunt of “my office” and the sergeant’s fate became sealed.
“Sir.” Gaz prays that the quaver he feels in his voice doesn’t come through. He’s never been here before, standing stiffly across from the Captain. Not like this at least - waiting for the hand he’s about to be dealt.
“Donnae worry tae much, lad.” Soap had given him a rough slap on the back. “Price’s all bark an’ no bite.”
Right now standing across from The Captain, all he can see is a bite risk.
“You know why I’ve called you in, Sergeant.” It isn’t a question.
“Yes, sir.” Gaz shifts ever so slightly. “I wasn’t successful in clearing my floor-“
“And nearly compromised a teammate because of your carelessness.” John crosses his arms, a snarl in his tone. His nerves are fried - every bit of frustration and hurt that’s been pushed down and allowed to fester over the last several months bubbling up to the surface.
John can’t lose anyone else.
By the time he’s done with his verbal lashing Gaz looks like he wants to run for the hills and never come back. As good as the boy is at masking his reaction externally, just as any military man does, his eyes never hide anything. There’s a sheen over them that has John pausing, stepping it back and sighing heavily. He never raises his voice - doesn’t find it useful long term - but he has a skill for putting together strings of words that stab right to the heart. Gaz is an empathetic kid - a trait easily exploited to pour gallons of guilt on the sergeant.
“Don’t let it happen again.” John mutters, the fire gone. Doused out by the kicked puppy look Gaz wears. An itch of regret stings the back of his mind. “Dismissed.”
Based on the rhythm of footsteps the moment the office door closes behind Gaz, it really does sound like he’s running for the hills. John wouldn’t blame him. He doesn’t want to be around himself either.
John practically collapses into his office chair, finally letting his muscles relax. As much as they are physically capable of relaxing. These days his shoulders are always around his ears - hackles raised and hands flexing. He buries himself in the incident report - pouring hours into filling out bureaucratic red tape that he used to avoid at every turn.
The sun has set when a quiet but firm tap tap tap sounds at his door.
“Come in.” He grunts, knowing exactly who is about to walk through that door based entirely on the perfunctory knock.
“John.” Kate steps in, carefully shutting the door behind her before stepping forward.
“Kate.” He straightens in his seat.
“We need to talk.”
“I’ll apologize to Garrick tomorrow.” John waves her off, turning back to the files on his desk in a last ditch effort to make her leave. It’s a foolish attempt.
“You know that’s not what I’m going to say.” She crosses her arms.
“Do I?”
Kate stands over him, staring him down. It’s a position they find themselves in fairly often whether face to face or communicating from hundreds of miles away. There’s a new weight to it here. A far more personal tension than either are used to.
Kate pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m coming to you as a friend - not a coworker. You need to take some time.”
The last thing John needs is to ‘take some time.’ He just needs to focus. Get into the new swing of things. He hit the ground running now all he needs is to find his stride.
“I’m fine.” John snaps.
“You’re not.” She fires back. “It’s normal that you’re not but you need to deal with it.”
“I have dealt with it. It’s been dealt with for six months.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
John sighs heavily and scrubs a hand over his face. He has plenty of leave, really. About three months worth that haven’t been used. Months he was saving for a long vacation that won’t happen now. Ninety days that are wasting away on his employee profile - a fake number. It’s all bullshit anyway, right? The only thing that’s truly real is what he can accomplish here. Helping people and saving the world here. What good is he rotting at home for nine months?
He’s needed here.
John needs to be needed.
“John.” Kate sighs. Her voice is low - that of a disappointed mother. “Either you take your leave, or I get you sent on a mandatory mental health leave. I already have the paperwork drafted. You need to step away.”
The captain lets out another heavy sigh. Laswell has obviously made up her mind. There’s no changing it once she has the steel like gleam in her eyes.
“Fine. Give me a week to get things sorted.”
John doesn’t miss the slight quirk in the corner of Kate’s mouth. “Thank you.”
As usual, by the time he makes it back to his flat he’s completely worn through. Body and mind equally exhausted - just what he wants. John falls into his routine of pouring a glass of whatever he’s in the mood for, tonight it’s bourbon, apparently, and plopping onto the couch. Normally he’d turn on the television or grab a book or some other shite but all he can manage right now is a staring contest with the wall.
The hell is he supposed to do for three months? He can’t hang around here, that’s too pathetic. It’ll drive him mad. Could visit his mum, but she’s got a life of her own in that retirement community of hers. He wouldn’t want to disturb her peace for more than a week or two. That still leaves at least seventy-six days unaccounted for.
Somewhere during his wall-watching, he thinks it’s while taking in a particularly interesting mistake in the paint, an idea finally comes to him. A flimsy, probably stupid idea. John grabs his cell. It only rings once.
“Hey, mum.” John leans back on the shitty couch of his on base apartment. It’s minimal, but he doesn’t need much anymore, does he?
“Jack, love, how are you?” She says brightly. Always full of sunshine and excitement to hear from her only child.
“Fine.” He lies. As much as he hates lying to his mother and the acetic taste it leaves in his mouth, he just can’t handle her worry at the moment. John doesn’t need another reason to cry right now. “How are you?”
“Oh, lovely!” She replies. “I have the ladies knitting circle tomorrow - apparently there’s new developments about Harold and Linda.”
“Oh? What sort of developments?”
“The salacious sort.” She snickers.
John huffs out a laugh. The old gossip. “Mum, I was wonderin’… do we still have that old family home? By the lake?”
She hums, thinking for a moment. “Oh, yeah, we do. Though, technically it belongs to your Aunt Claudia - the old hag - love her dearly. It’s run down. No one’s been there in years.”
“Alright. Good.”
“Why do you ask?”
John sees no way out of giving into her prying just a bit. “I need a project.”
“A project?”
“I’ve been given some leave. Need something to pass the time.”
A short lapse of silence. “Jack?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?”
He sighs heavily, swirling the glass in his other hand absently. The breath comes out shaky and there’s a stinging in the corners of his eyes. “I’m really fine, ma.”
“I wish you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Wish you wouldn’t call me on it.” He chuckles bitterly.
“You’re my son, of course I’m going to call you on it.” She scoffs.
“I’ll…” John sighs. “I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will. You should talk about it, though. If not to me then to some friends.“
What friends? He wants to snap back. His ex-wife took all their mutual friends with her. The men on base aren’t his friends - can’t be with how he’s been treating them these past few months. There’s no fixing that. They’ll never trust him the same again.
Of course, he won’t tell her that. “I will, mum. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Goodnight.”
“Night.” The silence of the flat feels deafening as soon as the call ends. A reminder of all the things he isn’t - all the things he failed at. Nearly fourty years and nothing to show for it outside of his career. No one else is around to hear the poorly bitten back sobs and shaky gasps that echo through the bedroom until sleep finally overtakes him.
~~~
The home seems about as bad John assumed it to look when he pulls up. Bare patches where shingles have long fallen off spot the roof. The front porch has several posts missing from the railing and a few cracked boards. The steps creak worryingly under his boots but seem solid enough for now. John takes his time working through each room, just as he would on the job. Taking stock of damaged hinges and rusted pipes. At least the water runs and electric seems to be undamaged. Livable conditions even if it all needs a proper dusting and washing.
The interior is just as he remembers right down to the furniture. All family heirlooms with only a few updated pieces scattered throughout. Wicker chairs and heavy wood bed frames. The only truly new addition is the thick layer of dust and grime covering it all. If John were more poetic he may have something to say about that, but as it stands he is not and does not.
As he makes his way to the back, he comes across the majority of the damages to the property. The dock is missing a series of boards all the way down. The back porch has visibly rotting wood and most of the railing seems long gone. Weather battered and use torn. More shingles are missing from this side of the roof. The entire exterior needs a new paint job. Fixable enough with the right materials and some elbow grease. The perfect amount of work to fill the next ninety days.
As he makes his way through the overgrown back yard to look at the dock in more detail, movement catches his eye. A girl walking in the backyard of the house next door - a red, square little cabin that couldn’t house anything above two bedrooms at most. She stomps her way down the slight incline to the lake - carefully carrying a massive easel and canvas under one arm and a rectangular bag of what he assumes are art supplies under the other.
John isn’t sure what compels him to watch her. Maybe it’s the soft curve of her hips or the determined scrunch of her face - either way it takes longer than it should for him to tear his eyes away and head back into the lake house.
It’s easy enough to spend this first day busying himself with cleaning up the accumulated dirt. John ties a handkerchief over his face - more of a formality than a real barrier to keep from breathing too much in. He shouldn’t care. The man sucks down enough cigar smoke that even this dense sort of dust wouldn’t be more than a tickle. He sweeps and mops and throws some bedsheets in the wash. At least enough to last him until he can take the quilts outside and beat them properly.
Even as he climbs into the old but solid master bed he has lists running through his mind. Lists are good. Lists are a distraction. Sort of like counting sheep but more productive.
Needs a new hammer, nails, several lengths of screws. He’ll have to take into account the type of wood needed - might have to order the railing. The small town probably doesn’t have any that would match in person…
~~~
Even without an alarm John wakes at five am on the dot. After so many years of military life he has no hope of becoming a late sleeper. Even on lazy Sunday mornings, he’d wake first, stay in bed and wait for his ex-wife to wake. Often he would try to surprise her with breakfast…
John clears his throat and focuses on dressing for the day. Some old work jeans and a sturdy, standard issue t-shirt. He spends the morning finalizing his list, categorizing what he can most likely get in person and what will need to be ordered. He decides to get a calendar to plan out the repairs over the next three months, starting with the interior and working his way out. Methodical. Controlled. Just like he prefers.
Luckily the hardware store has more than he thought it would. Between the tools already in the lake house’s small garage and the few he needs to pick up, he should be well stocked for at least the first round of projects.
“New to town?” The older woman at the counter asks politely with minimal interest.
“Sort of. Fixin’ up a family home.” John grunts, dropping cash onto the counter.
“Ah.” She nods. “That’s good. So many places around here have been rotting away or getting bought up by vacation companies.”
John just hums in response. He doesn’t have much of an opinion on that. It’s not really his business what other people do. He shoves his change into the small tip jar on the counter and drags his supplies out to his truck.
He drives back in silence, opting to focus entirely on the empty country road. He hasn’t liked music much these days. John frowns as a figure making its way up the side of the road more into focus. The same girl from yesterday, the neighbor, pushes her bike along the side of the road. She’s limping slightly as she walks. Her legs and arms have a solid layer of dirt covering them. The front and back baskets of her bike are stuffed full of reusable grocery bags. She looks downright pissed as soon as he catches her face.
John slows when his truck finally catches up with her, rolling down the window. “You alright?”
“Fine!” You call back, obviously out of breath with a frustrated pinch to your face. You keep your eyes solidly forward. John glances down at your freshly skinned knees, wincing to himself.
“Y’don’t seem fine.”
“I am!” You turn up your nose, speeding up your walk ever so slightly. American. Interesting.
John lightly toes the gas to keep up. “Your knees look pretty banged up. I can give you a ride.”
You stop dead in your tracks. John barely has to touch the break to stop with you. There’s a fire in your eyes when you whirl on him - one that reminds him all too much of Soap when he gets the itch to blow something up. He takes you in piece by piece. He isn’t quite able to gauge how old you are. Younger than him, he thinks. Your face is soft despite the hard expression, body a graceful, continuously curved line. He snaps his eyes back to your face before you can catch him staring.
You raise your hand to point at him and then the little canister hanging from the carabiner hooked to your shorts. “I’m not going anywhere with you, old man! Try to make me and I’ll mace you.”
John blinks. Old man? He supposes it makes sense. To you he’s just a creepy guy trying to coax you into his beat up truck. “I, uh, saw you yesterday. Wait, wait! I’m fixing up the house next door. The blue one.”
That makes you pause your march again, turning to look at him slowly. You squint, eyes raking over the truck, the materials in the bed, and flicking around his face. A slow look of recognition dawns across your expression, the pinch of your lips changing into a gentle part.
“Oh. Yeah. I saw your truck.” There’s still a wariness in your tone, a shifting in your stance. Smart girl. He wonders if you can sense it. The things he’s done, the kind of man that he is. Does it roll off him in waves like he thinks? Would it surprise you?
“It’s still another five miles back. There’s room in the bed for your bike. Can’t be fun walking around all bruised up like that.” John nods to your knees again.
Your lip catches between your teeth, a sigh of defeat relaxes your shoulders. “Okay. I’ll still mace the fuck out of you if you get weird on me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” John chuckles.
You huff and load up your bike into the back of his truck. You’re stronger than he expected, throwing the bike and groceries around like they weigh almost nothing to you. The midday sun gives you a healthy glow despite the cuts a scrapes from your earlier fall.
“There’s a first aid kit in the glove box.” John says as you load up into the cab with him.
“Thanks.” You reach for it immediately, grabbing some disinfectant wipes and a few large bandaids. They’re still bleeding pretty badly - dripping down your dirt covered shins.
“What happened, anyway?” He asks as he starts down the old dirt road once again.
You hiss at the sting of the wipes. “My - ah fuck - bike chain snapped. Threw me off.”
“Y’don’t carry a back up?”
“Usually, but that’s the one that just broke. Piece of shit. Hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet…” You keep your eyes down and pick at your confetti nail polish, obviously embarrassed.
John hums. “I might have one laying around the house. If not I can drive you to town to look for one.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that!”
“It’s no problem.” He chuckles. “If you don’t mind an old man driving you around, that is.”
“Y’know, on a closer inspection you’re not that old.” You grin. “Just the old-timey beard.”
“I’ve been told it’s distinguished.”
“That just means old.” You snicker.
A comfortable silence lapses between you - the only sound being that of the truck puttering down the dirt road. There’s a prickle on John’s skin and he glances over only to see your eyes dragging across his arm holding the steering wheel. You think you’re subtle, he’s sure, with the way you keep your face mostly forward and only look out of the corner of your eye. It’s hard to fool a SAS officer.
Who’s the creep now? John smiles and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting it out.
You turn away to watch out the window as he pulls up just between your houses. A two hour walk reduced to all of ten minutes. “Glad to see that house finally getting fixed up. It’s depressing watching it decompose - even if it is kind of cool.”
John nods. “My family is small. Hasn’t seen a lot of use since my cousins and I were kids.”
“Just you?” You tilt your head, staring up at him with big doe eyes. “No wife or kids?”
“No.” He grunts, wincing internally at the harshness of it.
You don’t seem phased. If anything your smile gets just a hair wider. “Well, thanks for the ride. Glad you’re not a kidnapper.”
“Anytime.” He snorts, climbing out of the truck after you. “I’m John, by the way. John Price.”
“Oh! Didn’t even think to introduce myself.” You laugh and hold your hand as you give your name. It’s so much softer and smaller than his. He almost doesn’t want to let go.
Christ, is he really that fucking touch starved?
John clears his throat and sets his hands on his hips. “Need help carrying that in?”
“I can manage.” You look him over again. John can’t help but wonder what you see. Whatever it is, you smile and wave politely before disappearing into your cabin.
He’s still thinking about that as he gets ready for bed, staring at himself in the mirror. All he sees are the bags under his eyes and scars littering his torso. The grey hairs beginning to salt his beard and hair. The rough callouses on his hands from rougher work. A tired, grizzled officer with only work to look forward to. What did you like enough to stare at? He’s strong, sure, but no more than the next guy that works out or does physical labor.
John downs the last of his drink for the night, brushes his teeth and falls into bed. For once, there’s a relative peace as he falls asleep to the sounds of nature outside. No sounds of base to keep him awake, no itching sense of duty. Just frogs and crickets.
A/N: I know I have other stuff to work on but the brain worms are wriggling thinking about sad, lonely John Price.
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coldfanbou · 3 days
Text
A Night Out
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New chapter for the mommy series. Sana shows us her way to get out of a funk, so we'll see what comes out of it.
Length 3.3K
Sana X Jeongyeon X Mreader (featuring Nayeon)
Previous Part
You wake up a couple of hours later, still a little early for work, but you need to get some new clothes from home. You nudge Dahyun awake, “Dahyun, I need to get some new clothes from home. I’ll come back to pick you up after I get dressed and take a shower.”
Dahyun clings to you, reluctant to let you go. “Just a few more minutes, please.” 
“I’ll pick us up some food.” You whisper into her ear. 
“Mmm, fine, but you better come back quickly.” Dahyun rubs her head into your chest one more time before letting you go. You put on your clothes from the previous day and head out. Your drive home is quick, and the lack of traffic in the early hours of the morning provides you with extra time. After showering, you wear a new suit and drive to Dahyun’s home, stopping to get food. You grab some extra, a sign of your concern for Jeongyeon. As you reach the exit, you hold the door for a group of women. They were sweaty from a run, by the looks of it. They thanked you as they passed by; at the end of the line was a face you recognized. 
Sana recognized you, too. “Oh, it's…nice to see you again.” She stops in her tracks. “How’s Jeongyeon?”
“Hi, Sana. Jeongyeon’s not doing so well; her husband has been cheating on her.”
Sana’s jaw drops, her eyes widening in shock. “What did you say?”
“I guess she found out yesterday because she didn’t come to work. She’s been with Nayeon this whole time. It would be nice if you could visit her.”
Sana blinks quickly and swallows her spit. “Are you going to see her right now?”
“Yeah, I’m going to take her some food before heading to work.”
“I’m coming with you.” Sana's voice was firm, and her determination to visit Jeongyeon was evident. She tells the other women she’s leaving, earning her oohs from them. “It’s not like that!” She clarifies as she heads out with you. While driving, you notice Sana tapping her feet incessantly on the floor. She was anxious and worried about her friend. You speed up getting her there quickly. Together, you head to Nayeon’s apartment and knock on the door. You wait a few minutes, but she eventually comes to the door. 
“Hello? Oh, it’s you.” Nayeon pauses as she notices Sana with you. “Sana? What are you doing here?” 
“He told me the situation. Now let me in.” Sana pushes her way inside Nayeon’s home, leaving you standing outside.  
“I brought you guys some food.” You tell Nayeon when she looks back at you. 
“Thank you. I’ll handle this; you should get to work.” Nayeon grabs the food you offered and pats your chest with her other hand. “Really, thank you.” She heads back inside, and you return to Dahyun. 
Sana looked around for Jeongyeon inside the apartment, surmising she would be in the bedroom. She found Jeongyeon burying her face in a pillow, sleeping. Nayeon came in soon after. “She’s still asleep. She cried all night, but I think she’s getting over the worst of it.” Nayeon pulls Sana away and brings her into the kitchen. “Jeongyeon’s a bit of a mess right now. It’s been hard to get her to do anything.”
Sana stays silent as she thinks about what Jeongyeon must be going through. “That bastard. I should beat him until-”
“Sana, calm down. We should focus on Jeongyeon.”
“Jeongyeon gave up everything for that jerk, though. She wanted to do so many things but gave it all up to support him,” Sana responds. 
“I know, but the best we can do is help her through this.” Nayeon passes Sana some of the food you bought. “Here, we can share this. The rest can go to Jeongyeon when she wakes up.” 
“I’m awake,” Jeongyeon says quietly as she stumbles through the doorway into the kitchen. Jeongyeon’s eyes were red and puffy from last night. “Hi, Sana.”
“Hi, Jeongie,” Sana replies before standing up to hug her friend. “How are you feeling?” Jeongyeon replied with a low hum, indicating she wasn’t feeling good. “Jeongyeon, I know you’re going through a lot, but how about we go out? I’ll call everyone. It’ll be the first time we’ve all been together in a while. We need to get your mind off all this.” The three consider this option further inside as they share their meal.
You head inside Dahyun’s apartment to find her walking around naked. When you open the door, you scare the daylights out of her; she squats down and covers herself. “Why didn’t you say knock!?” She cries out.
“Why are you naked?”
“It’s my home!” She yells back, still cowering in the middle of the room. Dahyun grabs the closest thing she can, in this case, a seat cushion, and throws it at you before scurrying away into her room. You head to the dining area and lay the food out, waiting for Dahyun to return. 
“Come on, Dahyun. The food is going to get cold.” Soon enough, Dahyun comes out dressed in her pajamas and with a sleepy Eunsoo. The baby rubs her eyes with balled fists and yawns. You catch Dahyun’s smile as she catches it. 
“Eunsoo, are you still sleepy? Does mommy need to give you five more minutes?” Eunsoo nods her head involuntarily. She was nodding off, unable to keep her head up.  Dahyun gives you a small smile. “I’ll be right back. I thought she would be awake enough.” Dahyun returns a moment later and sits beside you. She shyly looks at you and scoots her chair closer. “Hey, can you feed some?” When you glance at her, Dahyun turns away. You pick at the food, a wicked smile growing as you pick up a large spoonful of the breakfast. Dahyun gives you a skeptical look, wondering what you were thinking. 
“You've had bigger things in your mouth.” You tell her. Dahyun is shocked by your words; you get closer to Dahyun. “Don’t you remember last night, slut?” You ask teasingly.
Dahyun’s shocked expression turns into a frown, “Don’t say things like that.” She whines before taking some of the food from your spoon. 
“Okay, I won’t say anything like that unless we’re having fun.”  The meal you shared with Dahyun was quick, and she’s soon preparing for the work day. As you and Dahyun head out, you see Sana stepping out of Nayeon’s apartment. You both meet at the exit, and Sana stops you. “Jeongyeon is doing a little better now. We’re going to take her out. She and Nayeon wanted me to thank you for the food you brought.” You give Sana a nod and leave for work with Dahyun. The day is uneventful, and after dropping off Dahyun at her home, you finally get some time for yourself. You lay in bed, resting your eyes.
Your peace and quiet was disrupted late in the night. Rowdy voices could be heard on the other side of your door. You see a group of familiar faces as you cheek through the peephole. Sana, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon were all together, leaning against each other for support as they swayed from side to side. You open the door for them, “What are you all doing here?” 
“Hey you,” Sana giggles. Can we come inside?” You take a deep breath and step aside. The three women stumble inside, with Sana falling on her side. Jeongyeon and Nayeon break out into laughter, falling themselves. 
The scent of alcohol coming from the group is fierce. “How much did you all drink, and why did you come to my house of all places?”
“Jeongyeon wanted to come visit you,” Sana says with a big grin on her face, her words slurred into barely intelligible speech.
“I think you should all just get some rest,” you say, grabbing Sana’s hands and pulling her onto her feet. You pull Nayeon and Jeongyeon up and corral the three women to your room. They throw themselves onto your bed, lying back and giggling away. You’re a little disappointed your night wouldn’t be as peaceful as you thought. You head to the nightstand by the table to grab your phone when Sana pulls you into them. You land on Jeongyeon, placing your hands on either side of her head to stop yourself.  
Before you could react, Sana reached into your shorts, grabbing your cock. “I need something big and hard. You do, too, right girls?” You grunt, feeling Sana’s hand slide along your shaft. Jeongyeon leans up, kissing your neck while Nayeon watches the scene unfold, her hand sliding down her stomach and under her skirt until she reaches her slit.
You break away from Jeongyeon’s nipping and kiss her. She wraps her arms around you, pressing her lips against your harshly. Her grip was firm as if scared to let you go. Your hands run along her sides, squeezing her soft flesh as Sana’s hand runs along your shaft. “Do you like that? It would feel a lot nicer inside, something warm.”  Sana pulls your shorts down enough for your cock to be on full display to the women. “Nice and big,” Precum coats Sana’s hand as she strokes your cock. She places her head between Jeongyeon’s lap and your pelvis, her tongue taking minor licks at the tip. Wrapping her lips around the head, Sana swirls her tongue around your cock. Reveling in the pleasure, your hands wander Jeongyeon's upper body, pulling her button-down shirt open and groping her tits. Her soft mounds melt into your hands as you squeeze them through her bra. Jeongyeon moans into your kiss, her hands moving to your shoulders, gently holding them as she pushes you away to catch her breath. More moans flow from her as you pull down her bra and play with her nipples. Her bra causes her tits to be pressed together. While you pinch and pull on her left nub, you use your other hand to hold Sana’s head in place as you push more of your cock into her. Sana tenses her muscles around your cock, tightening her throat. You moan; the sensation sent shivers down your spine.
Nayeon watched on the side of the bed, her hand inside her panties and fingers rubbing her clit. She hadn’t expected this when the others gave the idea to come here, but she wasn’t going to complain. Nayeon moved away from the group, setting herself up in the corner of the room as she fingered herself. 
You reached around Jeongyeon, undoing her bra and getting it off her before planting kisses between her breasts. She cooed, running her hands through your hair as she seemed to relax. Glancing at her face, you notice how flush she is.  You move up to her neck and whisper, “How are you going to want it?” You gently pinch Jeongyeon’s nipple between your pointer finger and thumb, “Soft?” You pull on it, “Or rough?” 
“I don’t care. I just want you.” You give her a mischievous grin before latching onto her neck and marking her with a hickey. You pause your actions and grunt. You were getting close to cumming from Sana’s blowjob. You pushed her head forward and thrust your hips as your cock began to throb, dumping your cum down her throat. Your eyes follow her body, finding that Sana was vigorously rubbing her clit. You kept your cock buried inside Sana until you finished cumming. As you pulled out, you rubbed your saliva-covered cock on her face. You felt Sana’s lips against your shaft; she was doing her best to kiss it as you directed her.
You pull away from the women to strip Jeongyeon of her pants. In the meantime, Sana decided to spread the wealth, kissing Jeongyeon and letting her have a taste of your cum. Their tongues explored the other's mouth; Jeongyeon did her best to steal away as much of your cum as possible. She held onto Sana’s head. The younger woman began stripping herself, pushing her skirt and panties off her lower half. When the kiss was broken, she threw off her shirt and bra. 
With her panties gone, too, you slid your cock between Jeongyeon’s folds, and in time, her nectar covered your cock. She let out light moans that grew louder as Sana squeezed her tits. “These feel so full, Jeongie. I want a taste,” Sana said with a smirk before diving in and attaching herself to one of Jeongyeon’s tits, suckling on them to get at her milk. You heard Sana’s enthusiastic moans as she drank the precious liquid.
You glanced up, noticing Nayeon in the corner. You kept an eye on the woman, seeing how she groped herself through her clothing and stretched her panties as she fingered yourself. Having someone watch the action was exciting, and you thought that either Sana or Jeongyeon would enjoy it. You hedged your bets and decided Sana would enjoy it much more. You dragged Sana’s body over Jeongyeon and adjusted yourself so Sana would be looking straight at Nayeon. Grabbing Sana’s waist, you plunge deep into her cunt in one movement. Her Jaw drops, and a loud roar rings out of her as you treat her roughly. Sana locks eyes with Nayeon, watching the older woman masturbate to her getting fucked. It seemed like you were right. Sana got tighter as she realized Nayeon was going to be watching her. You spanked Sana whenever she looked away from the older woman, forcing her to keep eye contact. She bit her bottom lip, loving the attention she was getting. Jeongyeon, while she waited for her turn, was playing with Sana’s tits. The modest mounds were being squeezed and toyed with in the same manner Sana had been earlier. 
You felt Sana’s walls tighten around your cock, and enjoyed every second of it. Each thrust of yours pushed your cock deeper into Sana until every inch was being buried inside her. Sana’s cunt was being stretched by you, and she was loving it. Every thrust brought a louder moan and pleas for more. You gave Sana what she wanted, thrusting faster and faster, moving like a piston, with the sound of your bodies colliding only being drowned out by her moans. You gave Sana a slight reprieve by not spanking her when Jeongyeon pulled her into a kiss.  The younger woman reached for Jeongyeon’s tits, squeezing the heavy mound for the moment she was given to please someone else. Soon enough, though, Sana was nearing her climax. 
Nayeon could hear Sana’s cries of pleasure; the pure bliss on Sana’s face gave her more than enough information, too. She watched as Sana’s arms gave out, and her face fell beside Jeongyeon’s. Her back was arched, and each thrust pushed her further into the bed. Sana’s cunt tightened around you as she came. She forced your orgasm, and her cunt greedily took every drop of your cum. From where Nayeon was standing, she could just barely see your cum drip out of Sana’s pussy as she kept her ass in the air. Your cum splattered onto Jeongyeon’s pelvis, running between her legs and over her folds. You weren’t going to leave Jeongyeon alone for much longer. You didn’t tease her this time, instead pushing the head in slowly to listen to her groans.
As each inch went inside, you heard her moans get louder, “You’re so big.” You moved Sana to the side before grabbing Jeongyeon’s waist and pulling her closer. Jeongyeon played with her tits as your eyes looked her over. The woman before you had her eyes shut and was solely focused on the pleasure she felt. You began thrusting slowly, giving you the stability to lean over Jeongyeon and drag your tongue along her neck. She groaned, enjoying the sensation of your rough tongue moving along her skin. You squeezed Jeongyeon’s other tit, watching it jiggle in your hands when you gave it a little shake. When you kissed Jeongyeon, she wrapped her arms around you, gently at first, as she held you closely. “Make me forget,” She whispered into your ear, seemingly not wanting Nayeon or Sana to hear. 
“Okay, Jeongyeon.” You reply before lifting her lower body and increasing the strength and speed of your thrusts. You put Jeongyeon into a mating press and began to use her like a toy, flooding her senses with pure pleasure. Jeongyeon’s cries of pleasure filled the room, getting Nayeon closer to cumming. This entire time, she had been fingering herself, slowly losing more of her clothing. She was in her bra and panties. She could hardly control herself at this point, playing with her clit, and her voice beginning to match Jeongyeon’s. You felt Jeongyeon’s walls clamp down on your cock, making it a little more challenging to pull out for the next thrust, but you loved it. You heard Nayeon cry out first; glancing over at her, you watched her lean forward, her nectar soaking her panties before running down her legs. Jeongyeon and you came at the same time. Your cum flooded her womb before spilling out and onto her stomach. Having Jeongyeon’s lower body raised created a momentary mess. One that Sana was more than happy to clean up as she recovered. She licked Jeongyeon clean, going as far as to eat her out. The three of you continued the night, having sex with Nayeon, playing the part of a voyeur.
The following day, you woke up in bed with Sana and Jeongyeon on either side of you. Nayeon had found herself holding onto Sana. You weren’t the only one awake for long, as Nayeon woke up next. “Oh, my head. What happened?” She groaned, rubbing her head.
“You all drank too much.” You reply in the middle of the mass of bodies. 
“What are you doing here?” Nayeon yelled, grabbing a blanket to cover her naked form. The yell inadvertently woke the others up, too.
“No yelling, please. I have the biggest headache.” Sana said. 
“You all came to my house.”
“What did we do?” Nayeon said, almost too afraid to ask. 
“Do you want to hear the whole story?” Nayeon gave you a hesitant nod. The women listened to your story of the previous night.
Sana was more than alright with the outcome. “I remember a little bit of it all. It’s mostly the feeling of that cock in me.” She said, feeling some of your cum between her legs.
“This is so embarrassing. At least it wasn’t with a stranger.” Jeongyeon said, burying her face on a pillow.
“Now that it’s been mentioned, Nayeon, why didn’t you join us last night? You just watched,” Sana asked, turning to the older woman. Nayeon didn’t have an answer ready for her, though. “Do you like to watch people?”
“N-NO!” Nayeon yelled. “I must’ve done something last night.”
“Yeah, you fingered yourself to us.” Sana retorts with a laugh. You slip away from the women, telling them you’re going to the bathroom. You could hear Sana teasing Nayeon from outside the room. It was a little funny to you. 
You took your time in the bathroom, needing just a moment of peace. When you came out, you found the women standing outside, lined up. “We need to borrow your shower. We’ll be out of your hair after.” Sana said, leading them inside. 
You sit on the edge of the bed, hoping they will leave soon; you have to get to work. Looking at your phone, you see that you have a few messages from Jihyo and some from an unknown number. You’d deal with those after you got your shower.
368 notes · View notes
queenpiranhadon · 23 hours
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Can you do a bakugou x reader, they share a moment together like on a trip to the beach with the class or something like an situation like there have to share a hotel room which cause them to have to talk or spend time together?
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A/N: Lmao this look way longer than it should've- I beg for forgiveness 😭 Here's my masterlist!!
Warning(s): cursing, takes place during third year, reader and Shinso are apart of the hero course after being apart of general studies, reader has a mentioned and explained quirk, reader is in class 1-A, Shinso is in class 1-B, close friends to eventual lovers, Bakugou's a secret rom com lover, reader is gn but is written with f!reader in mind, not proofread D: + anything else I forgot
Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴅᴜᴍʙᴀꜱꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•
You know the feeling when you’ve been working so hard that when you finally take a break, it feels wrong? 
That’s how you felt- right now- staring at the towering resort in front of you.  
You were more than grateful for the effort the school put in to accumulate the funding for a beach trip for the entire hero course- something the other courses envied you all for, and in all honesty, you would gladly give up your spot for any one of them. It was your third year, a stressful time given that you were about to become fully fledged heroes by the time you all graduated in a few weeks – something you found ironic since you and your classmates have already seen more action than the average pro hero.  
Though the circumstances were a little different for you, as you had joined the hero course later in the school year following Hitoshi Shinso, who joined Class 1-B. You were put in Class 1-A to keep the classes balances, allowing your dream to come true to become a pro alongside the others.  
Your quirk, Eviscerate, let you release powerful blasts of pure kinetic energy that could destroy, explode and burn. Though while it was no doubt powerful, it was unstable, and dangerous. When you first got your quirk, you destroyed half of your home while sleeping, and the following doctors appointment suggested getting you a permanent support equipment that would act as a muzzle on your quirk to keep in contained.  
However the company that supplied the gear was unreliable and neutralized your quirk to the point where it was practically useless. From then on, you used gear to amplify your quirk instead of restrict it, and yet, though the blasts had the same effects they used to, they would sap large chunks of your energy the more powerful the blast was, which is why you passed out after taking out 7 robots during the entrance exam and ended up enrolling in General Studies, despite your potential. 
Once you managed to get into the hero course, you were paired with train with a certain Bakugou Katsuki, who was quite experienced in the explosions department and helped you develop your special moves. Bakugou pushed you to not only become a better hero but a better person, yelling at you to take care of yourself and scolding you if you didn’t drink enough water when you felt dizzy after training.  
You two had grown considerably close due to that, and you felt more comfortable within Class 1-A, never feeling left out despite your late arrival. 
And to be honest, you couldn’t help but harbor some feelings for the blonde too.  
Now, here you were, standing in front of one of the most luxurious beachside resorts in all of Japan.  
Dragging your suitcase and backpack, you gather in the lobby alongside your classmates, awaiting Aizawa Sensei’s instructions.  
The ravenette in question pulled out his phone and starts to read out the sleeping arrangements.  
“Ashido and Hagakure, Shinso and Tokoyami, Midoriya and Todoroki, Asui and Uraraka...” he drones on monotonously, and your brain subconsciously started to tune him out until a pair of names catches your attention.  
“L/N and Bakugou.” 
Almost everyone whips their heads in your direction, and your face turns bright red.  
Bakugou?! 
*** 
Your mind races a million miles a minute. I’m sharing a room with Bakugou?! Shit- what if I’m a bad roommate?! What if he thinks I’m gross! I’m going to have to scrub myself clean every hour now. Damn it I didn’t bring enough body wash to wash every hour of the week. You mentally groan to yourself.  
You see Bakugou heft his bags, grabbing his room key from Aizawa, and you want to melt into the floor. How in the world were you supposed to inconspicuously keep your cool around the man you’ve been crushing on for months?! Especially since you were sharing a room?! 
Sighing, you decide you should probably get your key as well, shifting your bags around, and approaching Aizawa who had your key in his hand.  
Taking it from him with appropriate thanks, you turn around to leave, but you hear his voice, stopping you in his tracks.  
“L/N.” he calls, and you look back at him confused. 
“Yes, Sensei?” you ask warily, wondering what he could be asking you about.  
“You might be wondering why you’re paired with Bakugou.” he paused, choosing his next words carefully. “We assigned rooms based on those who get along decently enough, and though Young Bakugou has most definitely mellowed out over the years, he seems to be the calmest around you.” 
You feel your cheeks subconsciously heat up at the words, warmth spreading in your heart and butterflies erupting in your stomach. Did he really act that way? 
No, he just likes you as a friend, you tell yourself, clearing your throat and looking at your teacher.  
“I understand Sensei. I have no problem rooming with Bakugou-kun.” you smile reassuringly, and the man reciprocates with a wry smile of his own before dismissing you to your room.  
“Go settle in, breakfast buffet closes at 12:30 tomorrow.” he says, grabbing his own suitcase and heading to his shared room with Vlad King.  
You marvel the resort as you make your way to the elevator, ornate marbled floors the color of sea glass accented with gold. Two giant seashells the size of gargoyles stood at both sides of the elevator doors, and you step inside, soft classical music trickling through the space as you stare out the glass wall, observing the many people of the beach, and clear aquamarine waters that looked crystalline. It was...beautiful. 
You hear a ding, marking your arrival to the 8th floor, where you and the rest of Class 1-A were sleeping, except for Tokoyami, who slept on the 7th floor alongside Class 1-B. 
The floors were carpeted, a nice burgundy with simple gold waves that ran throughout the length of the hallway, simple, but elegant.  
Trailing your eyes alongside the doors, you find the door you were looking for, Room 1076. 
You fumble with the key card, pressing against the small black sensor by the door handle, hearing the beep that signaled it was unlocked, and you open it, taking in your surroundings. 
There was a large painting of two seahorses, with their tails intertwined, hung in between the beds. The beds themselves were draped with such fancy comforters that looked like clouds, you almost didn’t want to sleep on them in fear of ruining it.  
“Oi, close yer mouth, yer gonna catch flies.” you hear a familiar voice behind you, whipping around to come face to face with a pair of vermillion eyes.  
“Oh Bakugou!” you laugh nervously “I didn’t see you there.” 
He rolls his eyes, grabbing your backpack from your shoulders forcefully and plops it onto the nearby chair, effectively flinging you backwards in the process. 
“Gah! Ah shit-” you yelp, falling backwards and losing your footing, only for strong arms to wrap around your waist and yanking you back just in time to narrow avoid breaking a very expensive looking vase.  
Looking up you see Bakugou’s eyes on you, an impassive look on his face. 
A few beats of silence pass before you burst out into laughter, Bakugou forced to shift your form in order to not have to fall over again from the ferocity of your heaving giggles.  
“Pfft- you should’ve seen your face - you were like rahhhh and I was like AHHH” you rambled, finding it difficult to breathe as your muscles painfully stretched to accommodate how much you were smiling.  
You feel a hand rest on top of your hand, effectively silencing you as Bakugou clicks his teeth impatiently. 
“Tch- calm down dumbass, ya just got here and yer already trying ta destroy the place.” he grumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “Aizawa said we can call up room service for free- let's order some dinner and watch a movie or some shit. I’m fuckin exhausted.”  
You smile brightly, shoving down the butterflies that erupt in your stomach, and nod.  
“Sounds good! You order and I’ll find something to put on.” you beam, flopping down on the bed closest to you, deciding that it was going to get messed up anyways. “Just don’t get anything too spicy. I’m not a weakling obviously, but you’re probably going to manage burning off my taste buds one way or another.” 
Bakugou rolls his eyes again, flipping you off and receiving and indignant Hey! from you, walking over to the bedside table to dial room service on the provided phone.  
Flipping through the channels, you surf through various news programs and sports broadcasts, already missing your easily accessible streaming services back home. Finally, you find a cheesy rom com you were familiar with, thankfully the timing was perfect, seeing as the movie’s opening credits roll through. The quality was surprisingly good, you thought happily to yourself, but given that you were staying in such a high-end resort, you shouldn’t be surprised.  
You make yourself comfortable, mentally high fiving yourself for deciding to wear sweatpants and a t-shirt that morning, so you didn’t feel the need to change into your pajamas just yet.  
Bakugou hangs up on the phone with a gruff salutation, sitting on his own bed adjacent to yours and raises his eyebrows at your choice of movie.  
“This one? Really?” he asks, frowning slightly and you quirk up an eyebrow in return.  
“It was all I could find, plus I know you like this one. You have the book copy of it you nerd.” you smile teasingly.  
Bakugou’s ears turn red at the realization that you noticed his guilty pleasure of reading romance novels, chucking a pillow in your direction in retaliation.  
“So what? Movie’s shit.” he grumbles, turning to watch the male lead being introduced. “S’true for all of em. Books are way better.” 
You sigh, disgruntled as the pillow hits you in the face and falls off your bed out of reach. You did really want to throw it back at him, but right now, you were just too lazy. 
“Stop being such a sourpuss.” you gripe, letting your arms dangle off the side of the bed as you lie on your stomach. “Obviously books are more accurate, but just try to enjoy a classic movie as if it were a standalone.” 
The blonde sighs, making himself comfortable on his bed without another word, vermillion eyes locking themselves on the screen, just as the female lead complains to her best friend that her crush won’t like her back. He knew it was a dumb movie, just by looking at the male lead’s interactions with her, it was clear he was in love with her. Were people always so dense when it came to a guy’s feelings? 
His eyes wander in your direction, watching you doze off , face half smushed against the edge of the bed. Sighing, he gets up, grumbling as he realizes his foot fell asleep, but works through the pain as he makes his way to your side, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.  
He places the remote on the bedside table and lifts you gently, adjusting the pillows and rearranging the comforter to safely tuck you in. However you weren’t fully asleep, your eyes blinking blearily as you weakly protest.  
“No...not yet...” you mumble, frowning softly, and Bakugou resists the urge to smooth the cute crinkle between your furrowed eyebrows “Food’s going to waste...” 
The blonde chuckles quietly, eyes softening as he tucks a strand of of loose hair away from your face. “S’not a problem dummy, I didn’t order anything. Knew ya were gonna pull this shit. We'll eat a big breakfast tomorrow.” 
You nod sleepily in agreement, as he turns away to get ready for bed himself, only to be stopped by the feeling on your hand loosely wrapped around his wrist. 
“Bakugou?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I love you.” 
His cheeks are tinted red, clearly flustered, not that you noticed, too tired to pick up on really anything. 
“I...” 
“I love you too dumbass.” 
202 notes · View notes
misstycloud · 1 day
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Can you do yandere boyfriend and yandere in-laws
You and your husband were driving up north to visit your in-laws. They were a nice couple who’d decided to move to a small town after retirement. It made sense to you, after decades of work and stressing over all that life throws at you, who wouldn’t want a little seclusion?
For the entirety of you and your husband’s relationship, he’d talk about his parents and how glad he was to have what they have; he loves you so much. They were his role models in just about everything. It was a bit weird to you how inspired he seemed by his parents relationship, sometimes. He could go on and on about how he was lucky to have you and you two were going to be together forever- like his parents who’s been married for a little over 30 years. He’d also never fail to mention on how he would give you everything and tread you right- again, like his dad does his mom. However, you shook it off as him admiring them and being very close, especially since he’s an only child.
That was not all. From the moment you met them in person, you had a strange underlying feeling regarding them. You hardly believed they were criminals or something of that kind, but there was something. For example, you’d catch his mother watching you from time to time. It could be when you’re outside in the garden and you’d notice her watching from the kitchen window, quickly averting her gaze and busy herself with the dishes. Or when his father insisted to accompany you to the grocery store despite his now-bad leg. You had told him he should stay at the house and that you didn’t need help or anything, but he dismissed your rejections. Not to mention their willingness to help your with just about anything, and your mother-in-law did not spare any expense in the seemingly random gifts she bought you. Mind you, this was back when you and your husband hadn’t even been together that long and you’d barely gone over the official couple threshold.
“We’ll be there soon, honey. It’s not far now.” Your husband said to you, giving you a quick glance before fousing back on the road ahead of you.
You smiled and responded, “That’s good, I can’t wait to get out of this car.” You sighed and looked at the fields passing by outside the car window.
With a frown, he asked, “Are you feeling nauseous? Does your back hurt? Are you sore anywhere? Should I stop?” Immediately he began ranting about your comfortablility like he’s done all through your relationship.
“No!” You exclaimed. “There’s no need to stop, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit cramped up is all. It’ll be better when we’re there.” You explained while grabbing his hand and showing that you’re good.
He side-eyed you for a second, as if he was trying to find evidence you were lying. Then he breathed out in relief, “Okay, I don’t want you to be in any pain or be uncomfortable in any way-especially now.” Your worrying husband let go of you to move his hand over stomach and stroke it in gentle movements. All while still keeping an eye on the road, of course. It wasn’t long until his happy mood bounced back. “I’m so glad we managed to come out here, it’s feels like ages since last time. And I know how anxious my mom has been to see you again.” He chuckled at his mothers attachment to her daughter-in-law. He would almost say she loved you more than him with how she fawned over you. Though, he didn’t mind.
You simply smiled in return.
When you finally were at your in-laws house, your mother-in-law was instantly at your side, trying to help you he out of the car despite you being very capable of doing so yourself. Your father-in-law scolded her and told her to let you be, in which she shushed him.
It wasn’t long until she started pushing gifts in your direction. Although, they were much appreciated this time around considering your current state and needs. The couple treated you to a nice home cooked dinner and the conversation shifted between different topics. After devouring the delicious chocolate cake being served as dessert, you felt it was time for bed. You had already been quite tired during your journey but it the fatigue was really hitting you now. You yawned and told the others you were going to bed, asking your husband if he was going to go with you.
He shook his head. “No, you go to bed first, sweetie. I’ll be right up, soon.” He reassured and kissed you on the forehead as a sign of affection. Then he gently ushered you upstairs and after you were out of sight, went back to his parents seated in the living room.
“Straight to bed, then?” Mother-in-law asked with a smile.
“Yeah.” Your husband answered.
“Oh, I do hope the bed is comfortable enough for her. I bought a new madress since your last visit. Lovely girl, was to afraid to say it made her back hurt. It’s rare to find such polite young people nowadays, wouldn’t you agree, honey?” The elder woman turned to her spouse, who nodded in agreement.
“I’m sure she’ll love it, mom.” Her son said and sat down in a cushioned chair.
“I hope.” she sighed, “She deserves a good nights rest. You’re lucky to have her, son, don’t forget that.” She half-jokingly reminded.
He chuckled and responded with, “Of course not. I love her more than anything. She completes me.” Thinking back to all the wonderful memories, he adorned an elated expression. “Besides, weren’t you the ones to teach me to never let go of what I love?”
“Haha, got me there. In all reality though, you did a good job taking her back. You know, I was a little worried for a moment there, thinking the wedding might be called off. I thought she perhaps found out about your…hobbies.” Mother-in-law raised a brow at her son, leaving the question open.
“No, it was something else. Fortunately.” He added. “But we fixed things and everything is as it should be.” his attention was turned towards his father, who for the first time spoke up.
“Well, relationships have been known to be a bit tricky for us” he referred to their family. “We are known for being somewhat intense with our feelings which may not always be appreciated. However, it is the truest form of love one can give and I’m so lucky to have found a partner who shares this view.” He placed his hand over mother-in-law’s who awed. “You said everything is steady, but you should still be careful. It would not be beneficial for either of you if a last resort has to be used.”
“Of course not.”
There are many stories of evil mother-in-law’s who despised their sons wife for the simplest of reasons. They would be cruel and treat the wife worse than dirt, all while playing innocent whenever someone had payed a little closer attention. She hated those women. How could one treat their child’s one-and-only that way? Though, she knew her view on love and relation did not match the majority of society so that might have something to do with it.
She absolutely adored you. You were simply perfect for her son. Kindness, humility, beauty- these were only a small range of your qualities. In a way, you were like the daughter she wished she had. Of course she wasn’t disheartened with her son’s birth, she would love her child no matter what, but she couldn’t lie and say the thought of a little girl wasn’t tempting. It would be so fun dressing up, doing each others hair, teaching her how to do makeup if she was interested.
She wanted to do those things with you someday. Sadly, she could sense you being a bit apprehensive to her company at times. She knew it was likely due to the excitement she radiated. She couldn’t help it, though! You are just so sweet it makes her want to bite into you like a piece of cake(don’t worry she wouldn’t actually). Mother-in-law has reminded herself to keep things down as to not overwhelm you, but it’s hard. If only she had the level of control her husband did.
Father-in-law is a admirable, hardworking man. He is clear-headed and calm; rarely does anything get to him. Although most would think him somewhat scary and stern, you actually like him a lot. He is not all toughness as he might want you to believe, in fact, he’s been very kind to you. That’s not to say that mother-in-law hasn’t been, but it’s just different with him, somehow. You felt like the two of you had a mutual understanding of kinds, and you also liked that he understood not to smother you.
He thinks you’re a wonderful addition to the family, even if he wouldn’t shout it out for the world to hear. He’d be too embarrassed. You are a good person and great match for his son. You’ll make him happy beyond measure, which is what father-in-law wants. Now that you’re permanently in the family, he often thinks of the things he and his wife taught their son. Now, he doesn’t hope you’ll ever have to find out about them since he’s not sure how you’d respond to that knowledge; most don’t respond positively and it’s likely the same for you. They could damage you forever.
Father-in-law promises to protect you since you’re part of his family now, and he’ll do anything for his family.
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Pas de Deux
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For @glitterypirateduck's May 2024 Ghost challenge (item #100)!
I don't write Ghost, but I love Duck too much to pass it up. <3
You invited your brother, Kyle, to come and watch your performance as Odette in Swan Lake. He makes it to the theatre, but he brings his friends. That's when you fall head over heels for Simon Riley.
You’d begged your brother to come to your final performance. You needed him there, needed to feel him in the crowd, even if you couldn’t see him out there. Kyle promised he would be there, and as you went through your pre-show routine, you hoped he would be true to his word. 
You knew it was difficult for him to get away from work. You’d left him with four tickets, asking him to invite his mates, if that would make it easier. You remember seeing his soft smile as he fanned out the bright gold tickets, inwardly laughing at you for not understanding the contrast between your world and his as he commented,
“These blokes aren’t really keen on ballets, Duck.”
He’d always called you by that stupid nickname. Well, the longer version had been his favorite as a teenage boy: the Ugly Duckling. But, it was fine. You’d called him Vile instead of Kyle most of his life, so you felt like it was an even score. 
“It’s important to me,” you’d insisted. 
“I know,” he nodded, conceding, “I’ll try.”
So, as the lights were warming up and you were applying your third layer of powder, praying for a smooth night, your heart stretched itself out, begging not to be broken, the whining strings of the cellos and violins in the pit below your feet made the sounds that your heartstrings were feeling — too quiet, too off-key. 
“Hey, babe,” one of your fellow dancers hissed at you from behind the backstage door, “Why didn’t you tell us you had a hot brother with a bunch of hot friends?”
“What?” You asked, confused, shaken out of your mental focus.
Then, over her shoulder, you saw Kyle’s face. He beamed at you, giving you a little wave. You leapt up from the floor where you were stretching, not yet in full costume, wrapping yourself in a warm wool sweater, rushing to greet him.
“You came!” You smiled up at him, wrapping him in a big hug. He hugged you back, full of his immense strength. You stood back to get a better look at him. He was all dressed up, and you couldn’t believe it. Someone behind him cleared their throat, getting your attention. 
“Oh, right. Duck, these are my mates,” he pointed them out one by one, “Johnny MacTavish, John Price, and Simon Riley.”
When he pointed to the last one, you felt your breath catch in your throat. It felt as if he was the one who caught it. He was a tower of a man, and his broad, muscular shoulders dwarfed his big friends, making the dancers who were rushing by him back and forth to the stage seem so small. Unlike the other two, his face didn’t light up in a warm smile. His bright eyes simply took you in, drinking you like a long draught, swallowing every piece of you. He studied your makeup, your neck and your shoulders, all the way down your legs, scanning you like he would be given an exam. 
“Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming, seriously. I’ve been trying to get Kyle to show up for months.”
The stocky man with the beard smiled back at you warmly, 
“We love a good ballet, don’t we, lads?”
You didn’t miss the way his elbow jutted out to stab Simon in the ribs, prompting him to speak. 
When he did, his voice was quiet, and although he had a thick Manc accent, his tone was controlled, measured, even, 
“Aye. Big fans.”
“Oh, well,” you couldn’t stop staring at Simon, so you pinned your eyes to the floor instead, “I hope you enjoy it.”
“Drinks after, yeah?” Kyle said, rubbing your arm supportively.
You nodded, watching them head back to the main auditorium. 
A few friends, dancers and stagehands alike, rushed up to you as they left, gushing about how attractive they all were. 
“Who was that bloody blond giant? Dressed in all black. He was lookin’ at you like he was hungry.”
“I want the Scot with the mohawk. I’m not takin’ no for an answer, girlie. Oh, my God. Did you see his kilt?”
“Your brother is so damn fit! What the fuck, babes?”
“I liked the scruffy one the best. Bet that beard feels good between —”
“Okay! It’s almost showtime. Let’s circle up,” you escaped from the prop room, scurrying back onto the main stage, trying to get your head back in the game. 
You went through your warmups with your dancers, and you let your costumers fit you into your opening dress. You needed to think about your work, but you couldn’t get Simon’s sharp gaze out of your mind. He did, in fact, look hungry, and the way his eyes raked over you made you feel every bit like a hot meal. 
As the music began, your mind went blank, blissfully quiet and clear. Your muscle memory took over, and you powered through the motions, enjoying the feeling of your blood rushing through your veins. You trusted yourself to get you through the first act, hitting all of your marks and expecting nothing less than perfection. 
It wasn’t until you put on the black mask for Odile’s dance with the prince that you began to lose your concentration. There was a wildness that took over you when you played the black swan, a ferocity that your studio director gushed about to the press and to anyone else who cared to listen. 
“She’s like an animal! It’s to die for. You must come and see her on stage. It will change this ballet forever!” 
You weren’t sure you appreciated being referred to as an animal, but you had to admit that there was something beastial about your transformation. The mask made you feel like you were a new person. It gave you the ability to become someone else, something else. You were sexual and aggressive, dominant and fearsome. It was just what Odile needed, and you delivered. 
Except, when you put the mask on tonight, you caught a glimpse of him from backstage. He was sitting in the box that you had bought for your brother, and one of the spotlights’ films had lit his cheek. It was a soft light, but it was enough. As you took your first steps on stage, you couldn’t help but look up towards him, and the flash of hunger in his eyes was still there. So, you decided to give him your animalistic side. 
You’d never danced the way you danced that night. The crowd was roaring, and your costar whispered to you,
“Go off, queen. What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered back, lying through your teeth. 
By the time you left the stage, daring to look back over your shoulder, Simon hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for one moment, and his nostrils flared, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself from your display. 
Before you knew it, the curtains closed, and you were bowing, dodging thrown roses and teddy bears, elegantly taking your leave. Your body was dripping sweat, and you rushed over to your bag, scarfing down some power gels and cracking open a nutrition bar, hurrying to bring your body back to normal after its ordeal. You’d be expected to pose for some VIP photos in just a few minutes, so you touched up your makeup, but there was only so much you could do. 
“My star!” Your director burst through the back door, “Beautiful! You were incredible tonight. Bring your masks. I have some people who want to meet you.”
You nodded, scooping up your masks and giving your bag to one of the other dancers to take back to the barre room. 
You schmoozed for a bit, but something itched at the back of your mind. You felt like you were being watched. Then, just while you were taking a photo with someone’s eager six-year-old, you spotted him. Simon stood behind Kyle, staring at you without shame while the other men laughed and joked with a gaggle of dancers. They had swarmed them, fluttering about, insisting to be invited for drinks, and Kyle was eating it up. You didn’t care, though. There was only one thing you wanted — aside from a hot bath and your comfy bed — and that was to enjoy those things with Simon Riley, if he agreed. 
“Excuse me, Madame Savoie. I’m exhausted, and my brother is in town. May I take my leave for the night?”
“Of course!” Your director beamed at you, “After that performance, you can take whatever you want.”
She laughed. Her rich friends laughed. You didn’t, but you managed a smile. 
You made your way through the crowd over to Kyle and broke the news, 
“Kyle, I’m not going to make it to the pub. I’m beat. I think I’ll just walk home.”
“You can’t walk home by yourself, Duckie. You live in bloody Soho.”
“I’ll be alright. I’ll just —”
“I’ll take her,” that Manc accent oozed its way through the din, and almost everyone turned to look at Simon as he offered his services. 
Kyle made a face at you, his arms wrapped around two dancers, one on each side, and he shrugged, 
“Alright, Duck. Tomorrow for breakfast, though. No excuses.” 
You watched as your brother untangled his right arm from one of your swans, and stuck out his hand for Simon to shake. You saw Simon pause, making clear eye contact with your brother, and extending his wide, pale hand. 
You weren’t exactly sure what weird sort of ritual you were witnessing, but it seemed like the two men had an entire conversation in just that short span. Then, Simon’s attention was turned fully back to you. 
“C’mon, then. I just need to get my bag.”
He didn’t say anything, but he did hold the door for you, and his huge stature did help part the crowd like some sort of biblical sea, making sure you had easy access to the exits. 
The barre room was a bright, white open space, and the wooden floors popped and creaked as you walked across them. 
Your impromptu bodyguard followed close behind, but he paused near the door when he was presented with the huge room.
“I’d hate to meet that ballerina,” he chuckled. 
You turned around, confused by his comment, 
“Which one?”
“The one who hit her head on the ceiling to make them build it this bloody high.”
You looked up to where he was pointing, laughing at his odd joke,
“It’s for the piano,” you explained. 
“That’s even scarier,” he grimaced, staring up at the high ceiling as if pianos would start falling from it. 
You laughed harder, then, imagining a flying baby grand. 
“No! No,” you caught your breath, “The sound. It helps us hear the music.”
“Ahh,” he nodded knowingly, conceding to you, “I see. That makes me feel safer.”
You knelt down and started to pack your back, changing your shoes and slipping out of your outer costume, laying the pieces out like you had been trained to do.
“So, which one do you like better?”
“Hm?” You looked up at him, and he bent his knees to squat down in front of you, plucking your white swan mask out of your bag and touching the fine silk bow with his thumb. 
“Which swan?” He asked, his eyes staring at you carefully. You got the sense that your answer really mattered to him.
“Well,” you said carefully, “Every girl wants to be Odette. She’s the star. It’s her story. And she gets to fall in love with a prince. But… once you play Odile, I think you realize that there’s… well, there’s something to be said for falling in love with yourself, too.”
You smiled, grabbing your black mask by the nose and holding it up to your eyes, glaring at him to make your point. 
“Same person on the inside, though,” he commented, looking down at the white mask in his hand. 
You stood up, and you grabbed his hand to help him up, 
“C’mere. I’ll show you.”
“You’re not going to find a tutu that fits me, love.”
“No tutus for you, I promise. Just… stand here. Like that. Put your hand out like this. Good.”
Once he was in position, you grabbed the white mask from him and tied it around your face, willing your sore body back into position. 
“This is Odette,” you said, making your hands and feet flutter to life. You spun into his hand, letting him feel the weightlessness of your body as you moved against him, the soft silken rustle of your leotard against his huge, callused hand. Eventually, you came to rest facing away from him, your thigh brushing his hip in a long, extended arabesque. His hand never moved from your waist, and you leaned into it, letting him balance you, his palm warm against your belly through the thin fabric. 
“And this…” you replaced the white mask with the black one, changing yourself for him, metamorphosing right before his eyes, “...is Odile.”
This time, you challenged him, making him feel your muscles and bones with each spin, pushing against him like a threat. You could feel his uncertainty, but he naturally steeled himself, grabbing you with more power, trying to harness your energy. But, you knew he couldn’t. He didn’t know what do to. All he could do was stand there and feel you as you moved against him, aggressive and virulent. 
As Odile, your final arabesque pressed into him lustfully, translating that fiery rage, your thigh slammed flush with his body, your hips forcing his hand to grip you to keep you from pushing him backwards. 
Then, you stepped away, removing the mask and doing a little bow for effect. 
“I see,” he murmured, seemingly unphased. But, even though he tried to hide it, his slight adjustment in his black dress pants did not slip by you. He stalked closer to you, closing the space that you had opened. His thumb came up to rub your cheek, right at the edge of the black mask, “Does the mask help?”
You dropped your volume to match his, still catching your breath a bit from the turns, 
“Yeah, it reminds me that I can be someone I’m not.”
“Or maybe you can finally be someone you are,” his thumb traced your smooth skin down to your mouth where your lipstick stains and cracked powder were surely a right mess. But, he didn’t care. He pressed the pad of his finger to your bottom lip anyway, moving so carefully and deliberately you felt like you were under his spell. 
“Maybe.” 
“Hm,” he said noncommittally, backing away from you, releasing you from his invisible hold. 
You finished packing, and you made your way into the dark night with him, walking quickly to get out of the spitting rain. He kept his arm around you, wrapping you in his warmth, shielding you from passersby. 
Your mind was racing. You had taken this stranger home with you, no questions asked. It was a risk that you just didn’t take. When was the last time you even had a bloke in your flat, much less one that you desperately wanted to snog? At least you had cleaned yesterday. It was too small of a place not to pick up at least a little bit each day. There was no room for you to be messy. 
“This is me,” you jingled your keys and pointed up to the tall, modern apartment building, gleaming in glass and steel amidst the historical Soho houses and businesses. 
Every floor was the same. It was all modern and white, almost sterile. You felt like you lived in a museum. 
“Mm, posh,” he commented, a little disgruntled. 
“Free,” you rolled your eyes, “The ballet company houses all of us here.”
“Why can’t my free accommodations ever look this good?”
You cracked open the door to your flat and let him inside. Your cat, Mustard, immediately began her figure-eight dance between his legs, her favorite hello to every person who dared enter her domain. 
“What do your accommodations usually look like, then?” You asked, pouring out some kibble for the cat and hanging your bag on its hook.
“Usually a tent, sometimes a cave. They even gave us a house once, no windows in it, but hey. You win some, you lose some.”
“I worry about Kyle, you know. You lads don’t have an easy job.”
“He’ll be alright. He’s a good one.”
“I know,” you smiled softly, staring up into Simon’s eyes, then you remembered your manners, “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, I’m alright,” he smiled back, turning his head to look around your flat. 
You gave him the short tour,
“Bathroom’s in there, and here’s my bedroom slash office slash den… Only enough room for the bed, really. I’m not here very much.”
“And…” He spoke slowly, carefully, no joviality in his tone this time, “Is it alright that I’m here, love?”
He eyed you cautiously, moving toward you, towering over your small frame, his hulking shoulders curling in on you, casting dark shadows across your vision, keeping you from the light. 
You peered up at him, ignoring his question,
“Do you want to shower with me? I’d fucking murder someone for a hot shower.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, bending forward so that he could press his soft lips to your mouth, kissing you as gently as you’d ever been kissed. But, you could tell, just by the way he moved his jaw, letting his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, there was so much more fervor under his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Right now, he was Odette, on his best behavior. 
But, you wanted to see his Black Swan. Where was the beast that you knew must lurk within?
He pulled away from you, smiling a bit, and you giggled softly, dragging him along by his wrist, ducking into your spacious bathroom. It was the one thing you loved about this place. There was no living room to speak of, but damn if the bathroom wasn’t perfect. The huge glass shower was enough for a party of four, and the dual shower heads made you feel like some sort of royalty. You couldn’t wait to let your muscles soak under the cascade. Maybe tall, blond and handsome could put those strong hands of his to work and rub you down. 
You stood in the mirror together, looking at each other, and you started to undress. He twisted a finger under the collar of your sweater until he could feel your skin. Then, he slipped it off of your shoulder. You dropped your arm, letting it slide to the floor. Then, as slowly as he could, you watched as he writhed his finger under your leotard’s strap, pulling it down your arm. When it got to be too taut, you helped him, removing your arms and rolling the soft nylon down your aching body. 
Your wig was still on, but you weren’t about to wear it to bed, so you took it off in front of him, running your fingers through your short curls, letting your close-cut fingernails scratch your scalp.
Now, as you stood in the low light of your bathroom mirror, you were naked in front of him, standing with your back to him, covering your breasts in the mirror. Simon bent his head down so he could kiss your neck, and you felt him wrap a big hand around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. His kisses felt hot, and they were deeper than before, more hungry, pressing into you with more power. 
You sighed, enjoying his mouth as it worked on you, but well-aware of just how caked on the sweat and the makeup were after a show, making excuses for yourself,
“I’m sweaty,” you whispered.
“I know,” he smiled, sticking out his fat, pink tongue and licking his way up to your ear, just to make his point. 
He wrapped his arms around you, retreating for a moment, looking at you in the mirror. Then, when he saw you covering yourself, he gently pushed your arms away, making you reveal your bare breasts to him. 
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised you, kissing your scalp chastely. 
You turned your back to the looking glass to face him, and you tangled your fingers between the buttons of his dress shirt. You weren’t in any hurry to peel him apart, but as you did, you saw more and more evidence of his hard life. His enormous muscles were inked with old tattoos, war scenes etched into his creamy flesh in black and gray. But, carved across his skin were tens of deep, jagged scars, standing as proof of the cruelty he’d endured. 
You let your mouth fall to his chest, kissing him indiscriminately, licking when you wanted to, nibbling when you wanted to, giving in to your hedonism fully. 
He untucked his shirt for you, peeling it off of his shoulders, and you watched as his muscles rippled and bent around his bones, stretching under his will. You worked on his belt, and he watched you take him apart, both of your heads craned down, staring at your hands as you freed him from his trousers. The zipper fell smoothly, and all that was left were his boxer briefs, underneath which hung a very girthy cock. 
You touched him through the fabric, and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief. 
“You’re a big man, Mr. Riley,” you teased, playing with his head through the thin fabric, meeting his gaze and finding him fully unraveled. His eyes were hooded and lustful, and it made you wonder how he liked to be touched so you could keep him like this, under your spell.
He tucked his thumbs in his pants and pulled them down, bare with you, and he held your body flush to his in a warm hug. You could feel his cock trapped between you, wet and warm on your belly, and his big hands came down to grab two handfuls of your ass, prying you apart so that the cold air of the room would hit your pussy and tell you how wet you were, enjoying the feel of your meat between his fingers. 
“Good thing you’ve got a bloody big shower, love. Might actually be able to stand under the tap, me. Can’t believe it.”
You watched him step into the large glass box and turn on the stream, the heat making him sigh. You joined him, jealous of the feeling, and let your own shower head beat your muscles into submission. 
You hissed in pain and he heard it, snapping his attention to you like a dog with a bone.
“What is it?”
“Sore. End of the week is hard.”
He poured some of your soap into his hand, way too much, but you didn’t correct him, and he commented as he bathed you,
“I read about it before we came, you know. Read about the story. About what you have to do to be the star. Hard work, that.”
“There are harder things,” You said in a low voice, tracing a particularly suspicious-looking wound in the shape of a bullet on his right hip.  
“Not many. Turn around,” he commanded. You were pleasantly surprised how much you liked it when he took control. 
Here, in the warm nest of the shower, you gave him your weakness and let him take care of you. He massaged your shoulders and your back unprompted, rubbing slick suds all over your skin, and he washed your hair. You moisturized on your own, letting him smell all of your tonics and potions, washing your face as he fondled your ass again, enjoying you fully. 
You felt like time had stopped. 
You washed him, letting your hands roam, caring for him as he had cared for you, and when you were both clean, you couldn’t help but linger on each other a bit. He reached between your legs and explored you for a moment, swiping his huge finger through your curls. When he found your warmth, so different from the steam of the shower, and a different wetness, too, he sighed. 
“Is it alright if I stay the night?” He asked. 
It surprised you. You assumed that getting naked and showering in front of a man who would be immediately boxed up and shipped back to Khandor on the next flight out would have stayed without asking. He would have assumed that his presence was his invitation. 
You nodded, 
“Please stay, Simon.”
He touched your breast, plucking at your nipple softly, seeming like he was uncertain despite your answer. You pried,
“Are you worried about Kyle? Did he say something —”
“No,” Simon smiled, “He knows you’re a big girl. It’s just been awhile… for me.”
“If you want to go…” You let your hands spread wide across his chest, purposely avoiding his cock, not wanting to sway him in a covinous way. 
He shook his head,
“No. I just want you to be sure. I can’t… We leave again, and I can’t make promises.”
“No promises. I know what you do. I know who you are because I know who Kyle is. You aren’t misleading me here, Simon. But, if you don’t take me to bed, I might lose my bloody mind.”
The smile that spread across his face then was a true one. It couldn’t hide. It squeezed his cheeks up into his eyes and wrinkled their edges like a paper fan. His full lips pulled tight across those white teeth, his incisors long like fangs and just as sharp. And he blushed, that pale skin giving away his feelings to you. 
He kissed your forehead and turned off the taps, retrieving two towels and bundling you in one, on your way back to bed, you snatched your lotion and started to put it on in a half-assed way, hurrying for his benefit. 
“Hey, stealin’ my duties?”
Simon plucked the lotion out of your head and nodded to the bed. You lay down for him, waiting for what he had in store. He pumped the lotion into his hand, less this time, you noticed, and began at your thighs. His wide palms rubbed and massaged you until he had covered you, paying attention to your hands and feet, before commanding you again:
“Flip over, love.”
You gladly did, sighing and moaning shamelessly as he rubbed lotion all over your back and legs. When he got to your round, plump ass, he took more of his time. 
“Watchin’ you move up there on that stage, tryin’ to seduce the bloody prince, fuck… it made me feel like you were dancing for me. The way you move… your body… I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”
“I was,” you confessed. 
“What?” He stopped massaging you, putting the lotion on your table and crawling into the bed with you. 
You waited until you were under the covers with your head firmly planted on his chest before admitting it to him, 
“I was dancing for you tonight. When I saw you with my brother… you were all I could think about. I could see you in the box, when I was Odile, and I wanted you to look at me.”
“I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
You weren’t sure who kissed who, but you were now trapped within each other, sucking at each others’ mouths, moaning and writhing in each others’ arms. Snogging like you were dying. 
His cock was already hard, but you felt its smooth, silky body pressing and throbbing against your belly as he held you close, hungry for your wet hole, eager to be the one to fill it. 
You let your hand fall between you, jerking him off, rubbing slick circles around his head until he had to break your kiss to cry out for you. You raised your leg over his hip and moved to put him inside you, but he shook his head and started chanting in short, breathless whispers,
“Wait, wait, wait…”
Then, he disappeared, leaving you at the top of the duvet alone, licking and sucking his way down your body until he reached your pussy. As he began to eat you, he also spread you apart. You’d never felt so exposed before, but he wanted to lick your petals, slurping them into his mouth like the lobes of a sweet orange, one by one devouring you in your sensitive state. 
Your hands scratched at his scalp, which he seemed to enjoy. You watched his eyes flutter with pleasure after a particularly vigorous passthrough. 
“Taste so fuckin’ good. Gimme that come, baby,” he growled, gently circling your entrance with two thick fingers before fitting them into you with a wet, slick sound. 
“Oh!” You called out, staring down at him as he planted his mouth over your clit, suckling at its swollen body, razing your nerves to ashes. 
It didn’t take long before he had you coming for him, and when he felt you tense up beneath his hands, that true smile was back. He sat up on his knees and helped you come back down, slowing his movements just enough to calm your breathing, but keeping you precariously balanced on the edge where he wanted you. 
“Turn over on your belly, love.”
For some reason, it made you feel incredibly vulnerable to have him behind you, and your body shivered from the tension. He noticed, and he lay himself over you, soothing you, whispering right into your ear,
“I’ve got you, love. You wanna stop, we’ll stop. No problem. That clear?”
You nodded your head, and he met your eyes, making damn sure. Then, satisfied, you heard him digging around in his discarded dress pants, the crinkle of the foil condom, and then the slick roll of the barrier slipping over his head. 
“Thank fuck for condoms,” he laughed, “Might give me a chance to last more than a few minutes in this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”
You laughed with him, shrugging,
“You come, we try again. I’m not bothered.”
“Mm,” he nuzzled your ear, laying his body over yours and letting you feel his weight. His cockhead was tickling your entrance, but he didn’t go any further, saying, “This must be my white swan I have beneath me. Sweet on me, huh?”
“Mmhm,” you nodded, reeling from the sensation of his tip rolling around your hole’s entrance, desperately grinding for more. 
“What would the black swan say to me, huh?”
You looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his eyes, and just like you had in the barre room, you showed him your other side. When he saw the flash in your eyes of your wildness, he knew he’d gotten his wish. You shoved your hips down, spearing yourself onto him before he was ready for you, making him gasp as your pussy slaked over the first few inches of his cock. 
“Give me your cock, Simon.”
He recovered, biting his lip and thrusting into you, stuffing himself inside of you deeper and deeper, 
“There she is. My girl…”
The power that he used to fuck you was beyond anything that any other man had dared give you. You didn’t know this was a possibility. Your whole body was trapped beneath him, being kissed and crushed and fucked into a wet, submissive mess. His arms were planted beside you, pinning you in, and honestly, you had never felt so safe. 
You could smell your coconut body wash on him, mixing with whatever it was that made him a man, musky and dark, a hint of his Camel Blues. You wanted to bathe in him, just as he had washed you with his hands. Instead of soap, you wanted it to be him, smearing himself all over you, caking you in his essence. 
“Fuck, you are so tight. Squeezin’ me. Fuck…”
He was off of you in a flash, and before you knew it, he’d flipped you over. He spread open your legs and played with you for a moment, trying to stop himself from coming. His cock was in his other hand like a vice, and you watched him struggle with no small sense of pride. 
You decided it was your turn to lead this dance, and you sat up, kissing him full on the mouth, letting your tongue loll against his, sensuous and warm. Then, you wrapped your knees around him and shoved him back toward the foot of the bed, riding him down. When you caught your balance, you reached behind you to feed him into your pussy again, pressing into him with your weight. 
“Wait! Oh, fuckin’ hell.”
Simon’s hands went to your hips and then immediately to cover his mouth, stopping himself from gasping from the sensation. You ignored him, bucking against his huge cock, discovering you could take him even deeper. As you began to grind against him, you let your hands play in your folds, vibrating your clit and driving yourself wild. Your other hand went to his balls, rolling them gently in your hands behind your back.
“Ungh… You are gonna make me come, love.”
As soon as you heard his confession, you released him from your hand and paused at the top of your thrust, hovering on his tip in midair, teasing him ruthlessly. 
“Oh… you —” Simon never finished his sentence because he grabbed you around your hips and dropped you back to the bed, prowling over you and huffing like a stuck bull. You were laughing in gasping breaths from the shock of his strength, and you almost missed the moment when he began to press his swollen rod back inside of you, spearing you mercilessly. 
You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck like a lifeline.
“Mmm,” he purred proudly, “She needs me, now. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, letting him kiss you languidly with soft, pliant lips.
“Needs me like this, huh? Tell me.”
“I need you, Si—”
“Tell. Me.”
“I need you so bad! Please, please… fuck me like this. Fuck —”
He covered your mouth with his own and chased down your orgasm like a thief, watching as your eyes got wide, pulling away so he could hear you keen. 
“Yes, yes, yes…” He chanted in your face, not moving away for a second, unwilling to miss even one moment of it. 
“Simon…” You whined, feeling the shock of your release and the afterburn of your pleasure as it flooded through your core, messy and salacious. 
“Feel so good, baby,” he was barely speaking above a whisper, sounding like he was drunk, struggling to keep his rhythm.
“You gonna come in me?”
Hope and bliss flashed across his face, and he kissed you again, pressing his nose right beside your nose and muttering into your mouth, 
“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
As he came, he held his breath, locked, frozen in time, his eyes wrenched shut and his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You held his head in your arms, keeping him close to you, keeping him safe like he had kept you.
When he finally took a breath, it was ragged and gravelly. He panted like a tired hound, sucking in air and leaning against you to recover. For a while, you just lay together, his big body draped over yours, healing in you, using your wet come as a salve. 
Then, he slipped away, leaving you bereft at the loss. 
He pulled you into his arms, making sure you were covered and warm in your bed, finding your eyes and kissing your cheek, wordlessly thanking you for what he had done to you.
“Do you want me to go?” He whispered, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t face the answer.
“Please, stay. Don’t leave me, Simon. Not yet.”
“C’mere,” he sighed, curling his body around yours, securing you in his arms, breathing with you until you both tumbled into a deep, dark sleep.
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AO3 Link
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sweetmilkespresso · 18 hours
Text
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Treat You Better | CS55-> ? Fic & SMAU
order: Ex!Carlos x ChronicIll!Fem!Reader x Mystery Driver
flavor: angst
ingredients: angst, chronic illness, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, and fluff
You can't help but look at your past relationship and compare it to the one you have now.
bariata's note: Hi, this is my first real fic in the f1 fandom. It's more of test to see if people would be interested in more like this. I hope you enjoy what I've brewed up for you.
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Sometimes you can't help but think about what you used to have.
Back when you and Carlos first got together you felt ontop of the world. You were in love and it felt like nothing could stop the rush you felt everytime you touched. You knew in your heart you loved him. You knew in your heart that he loved you too. Well, until you got sick.
It had started with the migraines.
They happened every few weeks coming and going like a tidal wave.
Eventually the migraines got closer and closer together until you got them daily.
They made you nauseous and every light became a potential trigger for a flare up.
You went from following Carlos from race to race to laying alone in the dark of your Monnaco apartment, in far too much pain to do anything.
That's when your relationship began to crumble.
It started with little things.
Carlos would complain about your constant rainchecks and I-Owe-Yous.
Next was the eyeroles and frowns whenever you mentioned your pain.
Overtime your body started to decline. Fatigue and exhaustion plagued your every waking moment. The aches and pains more pronounced as each day passed.
It was hard to stand and walk on your own.
As your body started to deteriorate so did your relationship.
What was originally little quips and snide remarks turned into white hot arguments.
Soon he was referring to you as:
"Too much" and "Exhausting"
You shot back that he was acting childish.
Not everything revolved around him and his needs. Things like this don't suddenly disappear because others find it tiring.
Until one day he'd had enough.
He'd locked you out of the apartment and threw out your things.
The two of you were done.
----
Looking back at that time you had felt so alone.
After you had broken up you moved into a little studio apartment that barely seemed fit for a person let alone a person with needs like yours.
Everything was too cramped and there was little you could do accessibility wise. You were renting the place after all.
----
But then he walked into your life.
It had been gradual at first.
He'd message or call you asking for an update since you'd went quiet on all your socials.
Soon enough he was inviting you over or coming to your place to visit.
It was incredibly cramped with the two of you in your little studio but you made it work.
He was so considerate of what you were feeling.
Whenever you cancelled he would just smile and say "Okay, there's always next time."
He was brazen and open about what he felt.
How he sat you down and point-blank made his intentions of "courting" you very clear.
You remember your first kiss.
You remembered how he cupped your cheek and asked permission before gently pressing your lips together in a chaste kiss.
He'd asked you to move in with him only a few months into your new relationship.
You agreed wholeheartedly. Your lease on your old studio apartment had been coming up anyways.
He happily helped you move in.
He didn't let you lift a single finger. Every little thing was taken care of. He hired a crew to move your stuff from your old studio to his place.
He was certainly full of surprises.
----
"Hey, y/n. Can you come over here and tell me if this is sturdy enough?" He asked you from the tile floor of the bathroom as he screwed a hand rail into the walls.
"What do you think about this one?" He asked as he passed you an ipad with plans for renovating the place.
"We can get the counters lowered and widen the space here so you can wheel your chair through and reach."
He installed ramps for all the doors.
He attached a wheel chair rack to every car he owned.
Since the house was two stories he even hired a guy to build a chair lift so you could reach the second floor.
Once your hands started shaking he would kneel down and tie your shoes for you.
Every little action was full of adoration.
He made it so easy to love him.
----
You're brought back to the present by a loud snore from right next to you.
Looking to your left you are met with the sleeping face of the love of your life.
You thumb over the pictures in your phone.
Smiling at the pictures you press post.
y/ninstagram
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y/ninstagram In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
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gglitch1dd · 4 hours
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Oh how I loved him
Past Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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Context: You reminisce about your time with Katsuki
Note: Reader is currently married to Dilf Izuku but was with Katsuki in the past. Kane is Katsuki's son who is living with the Midoriyas.
"Did you love my dad?"
You paused at your crotcheting as you looked up at Kane. The blond boy held the TV remote as he sat on the couch near you, Koda sitting on his lap. You blinked, surprised that he would ask such a question.
Kane quickly got pink in the face, his ears glowing, realising what he had just asked you. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. I-"
"I did." Your answer silenced him as he turned to look at you, his crimson eyes, so much like Katsuki's, wide and innocent. Beautiful and passionate. You smiled gently as you set down your needles in your lap. You sighed. "Your father wasn't a bad person. Not at all. He was loud sometimes, petty as a donkey, grumpy at least half the time, always complaining about something, would never shut up about wanting to be number one but..." You leaned back in your husband's recliner as you smiled as you stared up at the ceiling, old memories about your ex-boyfriend flooding you. "Oh... how I loved Bakugou Katsuki."
"You... you did?" You turned to look at Kane who looked eager to know but was keeping himself seated for the sake of the little four year old green haired boy that napped in his lap.
You nodded your head. "He was a good boyfriend, a good man, despite how he seemed." You started. "And I've actually been meaning to show you something." You motioned for him to pass the TV remote, which he did. You easily caught it as you connected your phone to the TV and easily moved to your Cloud storage trying to find something. "Where is.... Ah! There it is." You tapped a photo.
On the screen was a picture of you much younger than you were now. A huge smile was on your face as you were dressed in Katsuki's large black skull t-shirt as he stood behind you shirtless. The both of you were a mess of flour but a huge smile that one couldn't have known possible, was on Katsuki's face. You caressed his cheek as you leaned against him.
"Your father has such a small heart, but when he gives it to you, its the warmest thing you'll ever feel in your life."
You lay on the bed, your phone facing down as you sat with a book in your hand. You heard the front door of your apartment open but you didn't bother to get up off the bed and go and see your boyfriend who had just arrived. You flipped the page as you tried to resubmerge yourself in the story.
With a heavy sound of his feet, Katsuki pushed open the door to see you sitting on your shared bed. The blond ProHero frowned as you didn't even look up at him. He held the strap of his work bag on his shoulder tighter as he settled his crimson eyes on you. "Y/N." His gruff voice came out.
"Hm?" You let out with a hum, only glancing up at him for less than a second before looking back down into your lap. "Hello Katsuki."
Katsuki's frown deepened. "Come on Y/N, I'm sorry." He apologised. "Is that what you want me to say?" You didn't answer him as you flipped the page of your book. Katsuki let out a frustrated groan as he moved to drop his bag inside his closet before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Admittedly, Katsuki had had a bad day at work (and everyone in the DynaRiot agency could feel it). The reason for his bad day was because you were mad at him. Katsuki had spent another overnight shift when he had promised to spend time with you. By the time he had come back home at an unholy hour of the night, candles were burnt out, your favourite shared snacks were still on the coffee table and you were nowhere to be found but in bed, far away from Katsuki's side.
Katsuki admits, he had been so focused on chasing the Number One spot on the rankings, having just entered the Top ten with Deku, that he was putting time with you in the back burner. He would also admit that he had promised you multiple times this month to spend time with you but hadn't put in the effort.
You had every right to be mad at him.
Hell, Katsuki was mad at him.
Which was why he decided to try.
Katsuki wasn't sure half the time what he was supposed to do as a boyfriend, but he tried. Which is how he found himself in the kitchen setting things up and putting on an apron around himself. You hadn't move from outside the bedroom, no matter anything that Katsuki did, so now he was determined to try and spend time with you.
With the counter having everything you would need, Katsuki marched to the bedroom to where you were.
The door opened and Katsuki made a bee-line to you. You looked up from your book, a raised eyebrow coming onto your face. Before you could even speak, you felt large hands grab at you and hoist you up from bed. "KATSUKI!" You shouted as he hauled you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marched straight out of the room. You wiggled, trying to get him to put you down, beating against his back to do so. "PUT ME DOWN! WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU TAKING ME!" You shouted.
Katsuki went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen. He put you down on the tiled floor on your own two feet. He grabbed your apron, tying it around you before motioning to the counter.
You noticed eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla essance, everything you would need to make.... "Katsuki, what-"
"We're making cupcakes." He told you with a serious look on his face, not a hint of a joke on his lips. Then again, Katsuki was never good at joking.
Your face fell as you looked at him, not pleased by his attempt of bridging the gap between you. "And who said I want to make cupcakes with you?"
"Me." He stated as he grabbed the whisk and handed it to you. He moved over to the counter. "Now do you want vanilla or chocolate cupcakes?" He asked, minding himself as he grabbed two eggs and began to crack them.
You rolled your eyes. "I don't want cupcakes, Katsuki."
"Chocolate it is."
"Katsuki, are you listening to me?" You asked as you put your hands on your hips.
Katsuki moved to grab the milk and butter. "Pass me the flour, babe."
"Katsuki!" You frowned as you looked at the stubborn blond that seemed set on spending time with you this way. You looked at the open bag of flour. You grabbed a fist full. "Here's your stupid flour!" You shouted as you threw it at him, making Katsuki pause as white cake flour landed on his face and shoulder.
Your face fell as you realised what you did. You quickly slapped your other hand over your face as he slowly turned to you. He stared at you unblinkingly making you snort. You couldn't help the giggles that went through you as you tried not to laugh.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Oh so you think this is funny huh?" He asked unamused.
"Katsuki I-" You giggled. "I'm so sorry. I-" You were interupted by a egg yoke landing straight at your chest making you freeze.
Katsuki stood with a wet hand that scooped up the eggs he had put in the bowl. He stood with a smug face as he stared at you. He tilted his head to the side, blond tufts of hair letting sprinkles of flour fall. "You know, I think I like you like this." You glared at him. You quickly lunged to the flour but Katsuki saw your plan. "Oh no you don't!"
You managed to grab a handful before he grabbed more. You threw it straight at his hair, making his hair more pale than blond. He threw the flour right back at you, making you gasp in shock. He quickly grabbed you and held you in his arms to stop you from grabbing more flour. You couldn't help but giggle as you took his hands and tickled your middrift.
"AH! Katsuki! KA- TSUKI LET GO OF ME! HAHAHA! OW! LET GO!"
"It's not funny now is it?" He asked with a loud laugh as he tickled you and held you in his strong big arms, lifting you off the ground so that you felt helpless. He managed to find the spot that had you squealing and squirming.
"AAHHHH!"
He laughed at you as he held you. "Say it! Say it!"
You tried to hold back but the tears in your eyes said otherwise. "I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!"
"and..."
"I FORGIVE YOU! AH- KATSUKI!"
He chuckled as he stopped tickling you, leaving you a giggling mess in his arms as he spun you to have your chest against his. He had a broad smile on your face as he watched the restless giggles and snorts leave your mouth.
He bent down to put his forehead against yours, allowing you to calm down as his thumb brushed at your hips. You opened your eyes to look into his own. You could tell his was sorry, you could tell that he was apologetic. You smiled as you cupped the side of his face, kissing his nose making him hum as he leaned in to kiss your lips.
Katsuki sometimes didn't have the words to say what he wanted to say. But his eyes and actions spoke enough for him.
He hummed as he leaned back. "You're my everything." He let out lowly.
You giggled as you nodded. "I know. You can't live without me."
"I can't."
"I'm glad we both agree." You grinned with soft giggles stumbling out of your chest making him laugh as he pulled you into his arms again.
You chuckled as you leaned back. "He was so petty! I honestly don't know what is up with me and falling in love with petty men." You recalled making Kane laugh.
"What about petty men?" Izuku stepped in, dressed in home clothes but holding his work bag as he was now in sight.
You smiled. "Izuku! How was work? I was just telling Kane some stories about his father." You told your husband.
You watched your husband's eyebrows raise. Kane hadn't spoken a word about his father or how he was feeling towards Katsuki since he had moved in with your family after being kicked out. He glanced between you and the blond boy on the couch. He smiled easy, not feeling worried at all. "Let me put down my things. I should tell him about the time me and Kacchan got caught fighting in Delta in the middle of the night for the fourth time by Sensei Aizawa."
"Fourth time!?" Kane asked shocked.
You giggled as you leaned back. "Izuku was a problem child."
"Hey! I wasn't a problem child I was just..." He walked over to you, leaning down. "Different." He offered up. You looked at him not convinced making him chuckle as he leaned down and kissed your lips. He smiled as he walked over to Kane ruffling his blond hair, making the blond scowl. "To be fair, your father started it."
-Glitch1d
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paddockbunny · 1 day
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Fraternisation Clause
Summary : Working for McLaren is hard, being Lando’s PR girl is even harder….so maybe you need to make a tough decision that will be even harder yet Rating : 16+ Pairing: Lando x Reader Word Count : 1474 words Trigger Warnings : language but clean Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : there are probably a few bits in here that aren’t exactly how things are in the actual paddock / McLaren hierarchy so just ignore it and take it for the work of fiction it is ☺️
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Abu Dhabi ‘23
It was time to go. You knew that. Everything you could accomplish in your role, you had. The opportunity being offered to you was too great to pass up and if you were honest the move truly excited (and somewhat scared) you. But, it was a step up the ladder and it was a ladder that you really wanted to climb. As you swiped your credentials on the paddock barriers you saw your colleagues and friends awaiting you. Leaving them all behind was exceptionally tough as really, you had all become a little family. You enjoyed pizza nights, drunken karaoke, practical jokes and laughter and tears with them during your four year tenure. As they looked at you with a mixture of smiles and pouting lips it really hit you how tough it was to be leaving and even worse how you wouldn’t be a part of the gang anymore. For twenty four weeks of the year you guys were going to be in the exact same place and yet not be as close anymore. It was such a bittersweet feeling. But, you remembered as some of your new team mates walked past in their crisp white shirts, when Mercedes come a calling, you answer the call.
The night sky was illuminated by an array of bright explosions of colour as fireworks crescendoed overhead. You were already down awaiting Lando to begin media duties so couldn’t really engage in the end of session celebrations like you would have liked. But still it was nice to imagine the pretty illuminations overhead were all for you.
As you waited for Lando to be weighed and take his helmet and balaclava off you couldn’t help but smile. He finished P5 and P7 in the overall standings. An excellent effort and he could be extremely proud he equalled himself for the previous 22 season - considering how tough the car had been, it was fantastic. It had been a long, sometimes stressful, crazy ride being Lando Norris’ PR officer but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed every single last millisecond of it. At the start you had an immature, slightly naive guy who matured into a funny, charismatic, caring man. You smirked knowing it couldn’t have been easy for him working with you at the start either. You weren’t as regimented as you had become and he was often late, missing caps or passes, he even got fined for being late to the national anthem ceremony once because you forgot to fetch him, but you were fresh out of university and learning right along side him. It was a baptism of fire and you loved it. And honestly, you couldn’t have imagined anyone else being your F1 virginity stealer.
However, as you waited for him and reminisced you felt overcome by a horrible sadness. See you thought Lando would have been happy for you to move on and be promoted - go on to bigger better things - but he wasn’t. After accepting Mercedes offer and putting in your formal notice, Lando was the first person you told and boy, it did go well. He immedietly told you you were doing the wrong thing and joining Mercedes wasn’t the right move. He passionately attempted to deter you from moving and even got angry when you tried to calm him down. You had never before seen Lando upset like what he was that night - sure during a race or whatnot but that was because he was competitive - So it was totally unexpected. He asked if it were the pay making you leave and even offered to pay you more from his own wages (which insulted you). He asked if you were being forced out, if something had happened with another member of the team (which it hadn’t). Then he asked if it was because you didn’t want to work with him anymore and it caught somewhere in your throat.
If this had been ‘22 you would haven’t hesitated to laugh at the insinuation and make a quip about him being cocksure of himself. But it wasn’t. It was the end of 2023 and you knew yourself things had shifted between the pair of you. In the past 12 months Lando and you had come close to blurring the professional lines and you were able to realise how dangerous that truly was. Nothing had ever happened that could have been considered inappropriate but you couldn’t be one hundred percent you didn’t want it too. And that was what scared you. McLaren had an employee fraternisation clause which clearly stated that employees could not carry out romantic or sexual relationships between other employees particularly those where one employee is in a higher up position. And it didn’t take the brain of Britain to know Lando was their “star” and you were just another foot soldier. There was no way they would keep you over their superstar driver. And besides, it was known amongst the PR team that Lando had a little thing for you as way back as 2020 when you first started working with him but you had always laughed it off, rolled you eyes and played it down.
“He’s just a kid, don’t be daft” you would be heard quipping back. But for some reason, after the prior year, you spend the season pretending you didn’t know he was staring at you, that he was making you laugh on purpose, that he was finding any reason to touch you, be close to you and even invite you to things without anyone else from the team being there. You knew it would only be a matter of time before Lando would try to move things in a different direction - in particular, you knew he would do something stupid like try and kiss you and you would do something even more stupid and kiss him back.
So you walked away. You took the call and accepted the Mercedes offer of becoming a PR Manager (instead of PR officer). You had thought about it at length, toiled over it. And while you knew he might not understand why, you thought he would still be happy for you. You hadn’t expected the attitude he had shown to you over the course of the past three races. The silence, the grunting for responses, not even looking at you as you were talking to him.
You looked up to find him almost in front of you as the fireworks continued overhead. He held out his hand for his water bottle and little bag full of promotional bracelets and watch. “Well done, it’s been a good year.” You tried to tell him but he either didn’t hear you from the loud bangs and the start of the podium celebrations or he was deliberately ignoring you. You swallowed, wishing this was all different. You really could do with a Lando hug right now but as you started off toward the media pen, neither of you said a word to each other. And then after media he announced he had a plane waiting so he wouldn’t be hanging around. You wanted to remind him you were leaving and it was your last day so it would mean a lot if he could hang around for just 10 minutes but before you could muster up the courage to do it, he ducked into his drivers room while you were busy on a call and that was it. You looked for him to say goodbye (at bare minimum) and wish him a happy holidays but he was gone. He didn’t care. He didn’t even want to be your friend anymore.
Things were being wrapped up. Everyone was excited to get going. People wanted to party, celebrate the end of another year. They wanted to call their families and say they would be home soon and make plans for their time off. So when you walked into the McLaren hospitality suite to a riotous round of applause and hollering you were left a gasp and the tears started flowing. You hadn’t expected anyone outside of your small little trackside PR team to care you were off, but that was downright idiotic to think they would let you slink off. That wasn’t McLarens style. But still you didn’t expect all the hullabaloo. The room was packed with different people across each discipline. The mechanics you knew were there, the strat guys, chefs from the kitchens, office folk and even Zak was standing front and centre. So many people across the whole garage came to say goodbye. There was a cake and a “Bon voyage” banner. Your smile erupted across your face as your friends came rushing toward you to engulf you in a huge hug. The earlier sadness due to your strained friendship with Lando was pushed straight to the back of your mind. Right now, you felt special. You felt loved.
You couldn’t help but wish Lando was here too. You wished he had stayed to say goodbye.
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luvfy0dor · 3 days
Note
congratulations on 600 follows yay!! always love reading your works🫶
can i request first and neck kisses with chuuya?
so sorry if im reading the rules wrong, thank you in advance!
Chuuya Nakahara + First and Neck Kisses ♡⁠˖
Warnings; probably ooc
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Chuuya had been in a few relationships before he got into one with you, but no matter how many first kisses he shared with people, he always felt some anxiety form in the pit of his stomach. He knew you liked him just as much as he liked you, but the little voice in his head constantly brought up the possiblity that you'd grimace and run away like a kid anytime he thought about kissing you. Currently he sat in his office, trying to hype himself up to ask you for a kiss that night. You were gonna come over and he'd suggest you watch a romantic movie, and then he'd improvise from there on. 'A brilliant plan!' He thought, 'feels a little sleazy though, like somethin' the mackerel would do..' he shrugged and stood up, pushing his chair in and rounding his stuff up to head home. He hopped on his motorcycle and drove through the streets of Yokohama or his residence, taking the elevator up to his penthouse. His eyes widened when he found you already waiting there for him, sitting at the island in the kitchen. "Chuuya, you're home!" You say enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to give him a hug. He practically dropped everything to open his arms for your embrace, pulling you in and resting his head on his shoulder. Anticipation was building up in his stomach, giving him butterflies and making him feel silly and stupid for literally planning out his first kiss with you. He didn't care though and pulled away from the hug with a smile. "How was work?" You asked him, brushing his bangs away from his face. He stared at you with a smile but not a single thought behind his eyes. You raised a brow. "Chuuya?" You asked again, readying yourself to wave a hand in front of his face to take him out of whatever haze he was in, but he seemed to have snapped out of it on his own. "Oh, uh, it was pretty good, how was work for you?" He asked in return, his eyes staring directly at your lips, his cheeks getting a little pinker with each passing second. "It was good, my least favorite coworker was out." You tell him. "Can I kiss you?"
The words took your breath away momentarily and your eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, go right ahead-" and that's exactly what he did, gently guiding your face towards his with his gloved hand. His heart swelled in his chest as your lips finally touched like he had wanted them to for a while now. He felt your hand entangle in his slightly messy hair and pull him in closer, just to have to pull away seconds later for air. Chuuyas breath was unsteady and his cheeks, nose, and lips were all red when he peered up at you through his long lashes. You grinned. "That was super eager, Chuuya. It's okay though, I've wanted to kiss you for a while now too." His ears visibly perk up and he can't help but smile a tad bit at your words, though he tries to fight it. "Have you really?" You nod. He sighs and hugs you, burying his head in the crook of your neck and pressing some soft kisses on your skin there. You smiled and rubbed his back, drawing small hearts into the fabric of his jacket while he continued to kiss all over your neck. He eventually sighs and just rests his head on your shoulder, his body relaxing under your gentle touch. "This feels like a whole different Chuuya." You tease. "Oh, shut up, I've wanted to kiss ya for a while, it's nothin' new." He says with a grimace. It makes you giggle and you lean in to kiss him again, tracing his sharp jawline with your thumb. He's a little caught off guard but quickly leans into it like second nature, putting his hands on your hips. "It's okay Chuuya, I love you just the same." He rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, sweetheart...I love you too, though."
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A/n; AHHHHH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH MWAH 💖💖 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! It might be a little out of character but I hope it's not too bad, thank you for the request!!
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norr1ssturni0lo · 1 day
Text
FA cup champ
Mason Mount x fem!reader
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word count: 1.5k
warnings: some strong language, maybe some spelling mistakes, nothing other than that, lmk if I missed anything.
requested: yes/no
summary: Y/N surprises Mason at the FA cup final
A/N: shoutout to my fave mase acc on tumblr @mountttmase for convincing me to write this❤️enjoy everyone!🫶🏻
❗️semi proof-read❗️
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Today was the day, May 25th, FA cup final, Manchester derby. Y/N was nervous to say the least, having grown up a Man United fan, knowing the boys were playing arguably one of the team's biggest rivals made those nerves worse. She wanted nothing more than her club to win, especially for her boyfriend of 3 years, Mason Mount. 
She was currently in the car with Mason’s family on the way to Wembley, next to the Y/H/C woman sat Summer, who was asleep in her car seat and on the other side of the sleeping girl was Jaz, Mase’s older sister and Lewis sat behind the three girls with a sleeping Mila next to him. Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder, she looked behind at Lewis. He leaned forward as much as the seat belt would allow him. 
“Does he know you’re coming?” The older man asked. She shook her head. 
“No, I told him I had to work, but I managed to convince my manager to let me have today off, thought it’d be a nice surprise.” She replied. He nodded his head in agreement and sat back in his seat. 
*little time skip*  
They had arrived at Wembley and Y/N had the job of waking summer up while Jaz quickly changed Mila’s nappy before they all headed into the stadium. 
“Sum, wake up sweetheart. We’re here.” She whispered softly to the little girl and summer stirred in her car seat. She opened her eyes and held her arms out to her auntie. Y/N picked her up out her car seat and rested the girl on her hip until she was more awake and wanted to walk. 
The adults had collectively agreed to get some food first before heading into the stadium since everyone was hungry and they were earlier than expected so they found a little restaurant up the road from the stadium and they made their way to the restaurant and had some delicious food. 
*around 2:30* 
After they finished their food, they made their way back to the stadium and headed up the stairs. As she walked up the stairs to the entrance of the stadium, all she wanted to do was go and wait for Mason to arrive but she had to stop herself so she didn’t ruin the surprise.  
“You excited to see uncle Masey?” Y/N asked summer who was holding her hand. She looked up and nodded enthusiastically with a smile on her face and a skip in her step knowing she was soon going to see her uncle. 
*time skip to kick off* 
She watched as the teams made their way out of the tunnel, she smiled at the sight of her childhood team, on the pitch ready to play and win the FA cup. Y/N and Lewis leaned forward in their seats as the whistle blew for kick off and watched intently. 
30th minute
She cheered with the United fans as Garnacho tapped the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the match. She certainly started feeling more confident as she watched the reds play with all they could give. 
39th minute
She bit her nails as she watched Bruno beautifully pass to Kobbie and Mainoo kicked it into the back of the net, making the score 2-0 to United before half time, she shot up and cheered once again, feeling pride fill her body at how well her team was doing. 
90+2 minute
She clapped and smiled as Mase made his way onto the pitch being subbed on alongside Lindelof for McTominay and Garnacho. She was silently praying that city wouldn’t not score again and cause the match to go to extra time, she was too nervous for that. Next to the woman, she heard chants of ‘Masey’ coming from Summer. She smiled at the young girl and picked her up and rested her on her hips so that she had a slightly better view of the game. 
*time skip to full time*  
She let out a cheer with and gently jumped up and down with summer still on her hip. Man United had won the FA cup!! She was beaming with pride for Mase and her team, she was so proud of them all.  
She already had tears in her eyes from the sight of Mase lifting the trophy with the biggest grin on his face, reaching from ear to ear and his pearly whites on show, now she was crying even more seeing her team lift the trophy behind the FA cup winner banner and confetti and champagne covering them all head to toe. She physically couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. She put summer down and quickly wiped her eyes before they headed down to the pitch, she could finally see her boy and tell him just how proud she was.  
*on the pitch*  
The players had now spread out across the pitch heading to their respective families and friends. Her Y/E/C eyes landed on the love of her life, who she’d been dying to see all day. Before anyone could catch her, summer bolted towards her uncle Masey.  
“MASEY!” Summer screamed out as she ran towards him. He turned around and smiled at the sight of his niece, he opened his arms and picked her up and spun her around before sitting her on his hip. 
“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” Mason spoke softly to her. Summer nodded and smiled at him.  
Y/N stayed behind slightly to give Mason a moment with his family. She watched with a soft smile as Mason passed Summer over to Jaz so he could hug everyone else.
“There’s someone here darling.” Debbie whispered in his ear as she hugged him. The 25 year old looked around and his brown eyes locked with the Y/E/C he fell in love with 3 years ago. He made a beeline for his girl and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s torso and lifted her off the ground, she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck, placing kisses all over his face, the last one being his lips, he deepened the kiss ever so slightly and his hands made home on her hips. 
She looked up at him with a breathtaking smile, one that he immediately reciprocated. 
“I’m so fucking proud of you mase!” The woman exclaimed. He pulled her back in for another hug. One hand cupping the back of her head and the other resting on her back, he rested his head in the crook of her neck, planting sporadic kisses to her neck.  
“Thank you, baby. I’m so glad we won!” He replied, voice slightly watery with emotion. 
He lifted his head up to look at the love of his life and he smiled at her before placing a final kiss on his favourite pair of lips. It finally set in that his girl was here and not at work like she said she would be today. He looked down at Y/N and squeezed her waist slightly. 
“I thought you had work anyway cheeky. I thought your asshole of a manager wouldn’t give you the day off?” He spoke with a confused tone, Y/N let out a little laugh at the sight of her boyfriend looking like a confused puppy. 
“I managed to convince him to give me the day off, so I thought I’d surprise you.” she replied, smiling up at her winner. 
“Cheeky.” Mase chuckled, slapping her butt gently. “But thank you darling, it means the world to me for you to be here with my family” he added on, still smiling, his cheeks had started to hurt from all the smiling he’d done in the last hour. 
Interrupting their moment, Rasmus ran over to the couple, he gave Y/N a quick hug as the older woman congratulated him. 
“We gotta get going to the after party soon mase, you coming Y/N/N?” The younger man spoke with excitement in his voice.  
“Mase we gotta get to Monaco for the Grand Prix.” she spoke looking between the two footballers.  
“Love, the race isn’t until 3 we’ll be able to fly tomorrow morning and make it for the race.” Mason reassured the woman.  
“Come on Y/N let’s have a party!” Rasmus spoke in a sing song tone causing her to laugh at him. 
“What do you say baby?” Mase looked at the girl for confirmation, she threw her head back dramatically sighing.  
“Fuck it, why not.” She replied laughing as the boys cheered and wrapped their arms around her shoulders. 
“Jaz, Lew, you coming to the after party?” The siblings nodded almost immediately.  
“Mum? Dad? You coming?” Jaz looked between her parents. 
“No it’s okay, we’ll get the girls home and in bed, you kids go have fun!” Tony replied, smiling at the younger adults. Jaz passed summer to Debbie and Tony already had Mila in his arms, they left with the young girls, and the adults all made travel arrangements to get to the after party. Y/N, Lewis and Jaz got an uber and Mason and Rasmus made their way to the party on the team coach.  
They all danced the entire night. Y/N and Mason being slightly more conscious with drinking than Rasmus as they had to travel the next morning. They all laughed at Rasmus singing Abba. Y/N made a mental note to message the younger man in the morning to see how he was feeling knowing he’d he hungover. 
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dragon-kazansky · 2 days
Text
Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season Two
Chapter Nineteen - Together again
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You had sat your mother down when you got home. She called for tea, and you sat down beside her, wondering how you were going to tell her the news. Your poor mother had been stressing out since she revived the letter from your uncle, your father's brother, about taking back his money to support you both while in London.
"Mother, I... Our situation may have come up with the Bridgerton's earlier, and I have recieved a very generous offer from them." You start slowly.
"Are you to wed one of them?" She sits up in her seat, looking at you eagerly. Of course she would assume that.
"Um, no."
She looks rather deflated with your answer. "What is it then?"
"The Viscount has offered to take me under his wing and set me a dowry aside. We don't need to rush to find me a husband. Anthony will look after us. Violet had offered to help find a suitor."
Your mother now looks elated. "Oh, darling, that'd wonderful!" She hugs you.
You smile. You feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
"Oh, this is wonderful! I must send the Dowergess something in return. My gratitude to that family will be forever endless."
You chuckle at how excited your mother is. You haven't seen her this cheerful in quite some time. It felt good to see her smile again.
"Flowers! I shall send her an abundance of flowers!" Your mother rises from her chair and goes off in search of a maid who she can send down to the flower shop. You roll your eyes with a smile.
Things were looking up again.
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A couple of days later, you're at the Bridgerton house. It's as lively as you remember it being last year. Eloise was practising some dancing with Gregory while Violet watched on. Gregory didn't seem to mind dancing with his sister, but Eloise seemed to mind quite a lot. You knew how she felt about this whole thing.
Benedict was sitting on the couch nearby. You were sitting opposite him, watching them the two siblings dance.
"I do not think she is very good," Hyacinth says, coming over to sit with you.
"I believe she can hear you," Benedict says to her in response.
"I can hear you," Eloise confirms.
"Ow! Watch my feet!" Gregory looks up at his sister after she steps on his foot.
"Might we be done?" Eloise asks.
"If you are to catch the queen's eye after that interruption, you must be perfection." Violet states.
"I believe it was the interruption that was perfection," Eloise sighs.
"Shocking that Eloise Bridgerton was not named the season diamond, was it not?" Benedict says casually.
At that exact moment, Anthony comes strolling in. "Was anyone else aware that dear Colin has decided to add Albania or some such place to his itinerary as he gads about the world?"
"How wonderful it must be to travel," you say softly.
"I rather prefer the comfort of the countryside," Benedict comments.
"I do miss the country."
Benedict looks up from his sketchbook, of which he has been working very hard on, to look at you. "Then you need to come to our family estate."
You find yourself looking away shyly. He's still disappointed he didn't see you all summer.
"How lucky for him that he can simply decide to do that," Eloise remarks.
"Joining us for tea, Anthony?" Violet asks.
"Uh, I'm afraid I must pass. Too many calls on my funds today. Now that the season has started, I need to fill your coffers at the modiste and oversee the hiring of extra staff. And your ring. When you get the chance, I need it."
You look at Anthony silently. He was serious.
"The fields by Ferryhallow. I was thinking we might hold off on leasing them due to the hard frost." Anthony continues.
"I beg your pardon?" Violet looks at her eldest son.
"The frost hardens the soil, saps it of nutrients," he explains. "That is very well, but you requested my ring?"
"Father's betrothal ring."
"Did someone catch your eye at the presentation, Brother?" Benedict asks with a grin.
"I thought all the young ladies looked beautiful," Hyacinth chimes in.
"Not particularly. And all the young ladies looked the same. Like young ladies. I'd simply like to be prepared for when the opportunity presents itself," Anthony clarifies.
"The opportunity?" Violet asks.
"I've already compiled an index of the season's eligible misses and arranged interviews."
You look at Anthony in disbelief. He was serious. Those poor ladies.
"Interviews!" Violet chuckles. "Dearest, I shall be more than happy to give you my ring when you find someone with whom you are very much in love. Besides, it is in safekeeping at Aubrey Hall."
"Very well."
Violet slides up to the sofa Benedict is lounging on and looks at him. "See that he is quite well."
"Me?" Benedict asks, looking up at her.
"I'm not in need of coddling," Anthony says from across the room. "I assure you all, everything is in order."
Anthony checks his pocket watch and then takes his leave rather quickly. Everyone watches him go in silence. You turn to look at Benedict once Anthony is gone, and he just sighs, looking back at you.
Anthony Bridgerton was a stubborn fool.
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Later that afternoon, while Eloise went to the market with Penelope, an endeavour you were not invited to take part in, you spent the hours with Benedict in his makeshift studio. He called it a studio, but it was merely a room he came in to sketch quietly away from his family.
You liked that about Benedict. The way he finds comfort in his own little bubble. He cared very little for society and all its trails. He was more tranquil.
You watch him sketch away, his attention deep into the pages in the book. Last year, he granted you the privilege to come see his hobby. He shared his work with you, and you complimented it. Even now, you had had no idea just how much you had impacted him and his art.
He rubs gently at the charcoal on the page, smudging it carefully. You watch with great interest as he examines his work. He pulls a slight face. While he decides if he likes it or not, you admire him.
Benedict Bridgerton is handsome, kind, funny, and gentle. He has an eye for detail and a smile to charm any lady who is lucky enough to witness it.
He would have no trouble finding a wife of he wanted to.
The thought makes you look down at the table quietly. It would be so easy for him to find a perfect match. Someone who compliments him and would look after him. You are not so lucky.
Though you hope to catch someone's eye at the ball tomorrow night, you won't hold your breath. You're not a pretty Bridgerton.
"Are you alright?"
You look up and meet his beautiful blue eyes. You swear you've never seen a shade like them before.
"Yes. Sorry. I've just been thinking."
"I can see that," he chuckles.
You smile softly and turn your eyes back to his book so you won't have to look at him again. "Do you ever plan on getting married?"
"Has mother put you up to this?" He teases.
"No, I just... You'd make a good husband."
"Is that what you've been thinking about?" He chuckles. "If I can help it, I'll remain a bachelor."
"I see." You sigh softly. You shouldn't be surprised. You won't mention marriage again to him.
Benedict watches you for a moment and then turns the page in his sketchbook. He sketches away quietly, glancing at you every so often. You don't even notice, too caught up in your thoughts again.
You were so beautiful when you were loat in your mind. No. You were beautiful all the time. Benedict hoped you knew that.
He did the best he could in a short span of time, taking in as many details as possible. You were a vision in his eyes. When he was sat fired with the sketch, he put his book down on the table and slid it over to you, nudging you out of your thoughts.
You look down at the book and see the sketch of you looking back.
"Benedict... you're so talented."
He chuckled softly. "I just want you to see yourself the way I do. I know how important it is to you that you find a husband and look after your mother. You'll find someone."
You look into those beautiful blue eyes and for just a moment with that he would be the one.
You look away. "Thank you."
Benedict also finds himself looking away. Perhaps he had been a little too forward there. However, he doesn't regret telling you what he thought.
You only sit there a few moments more before excusing yourself and heading home. It felt a little strange staying there for any longer.
Benedict sat alone in that room, unable to draw anymore. His mind was preoccupied now.
He wished you had stayed.
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When you got home, your mother noticed how quiet you were. She watched you retreat upstairs alone. You wanted to call out to you and check you were alright, but she didn't.
You stayed up in your room for the rest of the afternoon. Only coming down for dinner. Your mother didn't ask why you had become so quiet. You would tell her if you wanted to.
It wasn't until you finished dinner that you spoke up. "Mother?"
"Yes, dear?"
"I'm going to make you proud. You know that, don't you?"
Your mother smile. "You always make me proud."
You smile back. You knew she meant it. Despite everything you and she had been through with losing your father, losing the country house, your uncle backing out of looking after you, you still had each other and you would make her proud. Every single day.
"I'm going to look after you," you tell her.
"You don't need to worry about me."
"I always do."
You both smile at each silently.
You swore to yourself there, and then that this year, you would do better. This year, you will find your place in the world.
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theotherbuckley · 3 days
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Love your page! Do you take fic requests? Really wanting an angsty fic where Tommy is hurt and an ignorant hospital worker tries to keep Buck from seeing him.
Thank you for the kind words anon💜 here's the fic:
i thought it would be me
bucktommy | 3.7K | T
Buck really thought he would be the one to get hurt first. He’s pretty sure the universe is out to get him, and he’s had a near-death experience every other year, so he really expected he’d be the one in the hospital.
He should have known his bad luck would lead to Tommy being in that position instead—because that hurts more.
Getting a call at three AM is far less unusual than it should be, and yet, it still doesn’t prevent his heart from working overtime, pounding in his ears as he reaches to grab his phone from the nightstand.
He’d thought Tommy would be home by now.
Buck’s at his place, in his bed, wrapped in his sheet because they had plans tomorrow, and Tommy had told him to just spend the night, that way they could wake up together.
They’ve been dating for a little over four months now—and Buck has his key.
He still can’t believe it. It makes him feel a little giddy every time he remembers—he has to take his keys out of his pocket every time just to stare at them and smile.
With Tommy, everything feels so right. It’s not weird that he’s in Tommy’s bed because it’s just normal. He loves how Tommy enters the room, trying to be as quiet as possible, but Buck wakes up anyway. He loves the way Tommy creeps into bed and hugs Buck to his chest. It’s always the best sleep he ever has.
Except tonight, as it’s three AM, and Tommy’s shift was supposed to finish at twelve, and Buck’s alone, in a bed that suddenly feels all too big and much too cold.
His phone is still ringing in his palm.
His hand shakes because he knows what they’re going to tell him, but he wants to delay the inevitable for as long as he can.
It feels like an hour has passed when Buck finally accepts the call. He doesn’t even manage to let out a shaky “hello” before there’s yelling on the other end of the line.
“Where the fuck are you?” Smith’s voice practically growls through the phone.
He’s confused, but the ringing in his ears doesn’t let up. Smith is one of Tommy’s coworkers. He seems like a cool guy, not that Buck’s spent much time around him. Tommy tells him that he’s one of the best, the first person at harbour to really make Tommy feel like he could be himself.
“Uh…” Buck says eloquently, his voice breaking through layers of sleep.
“I told the hospital to call you three hours ago, so where the hell are you?” Smith seethes.
The word “hospital” stabs through Buck’s chest like a knife.
The ringing in his ears reaches its peak until the only thing Buck can hear is “hospital” over and over and over again.
It’s like tunnel vision in his brain—he can’t hear Smith still speaking through the line—can’t think—can’t blink—can’t breathe.
His breaths are too shallow. He tries to ask Smith what he’s talking about, but only a pained whimper leaves his throat.
He closes his eyes, tries to focus on the tinny voice coming from his phone. Then, patting his lips together, he forces his mouth to work, and says, “What—what happened?”
continue reading on ao3
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