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#so i stopped fretting as much and just had fun! :]
chdarling · 2 days
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Ommggg I have so many thoughts on the new chapter I don’t even know where to begin!
I love the consistency with Snape’s twisted morality. Just like later, when he’ll beg Dumbledore to save only Lily, here he’s only concerned with protecting Lily, other innocent students be damned.
The reveal that Lily had been spiked with Felix makes so much sense in retrospect. I even remember thinking that she was so optimistic as soon as James sent Snape away, and thought it must’ve just been James. Excellent foreshadowing.
now I can’t stop thinking of all the things that happened because it was “lucky” for Lily??? Like suddenly needing to send Mary a letter so that she’d overheard Aisha and Florence, and instigate Flormes’ breakup by revealing the James dad thing! And how Sirius and Graham were right in the blast but unharmed. And did she say she was going to the bookshop so someone would rescue Arabella?? So good.
Sirius listening to Lily fret about how he specifically must hate her because it’s her fault that James is hurt as Snuffles is so sad. Like it’s sort of messed up that he’s doing this but it’s also so… sweet? He knows Snuffles brings her comfort in a way Sirius can’t. I can’t stop thinking about what Lily’s going to feel when she realizes this whole time Snuffles has been Sirius. I think at first she’s going to be betrayed, but after the dust settles I think she’s going to realize how much he’s sought her out to comfort her without ever once revealing what she said to anyone, and that will go a long way for their friendship.
UGH LILY NO JUST KISS HIM ITS THE RIGHT TIME I SWEAR.
Jammessss she’s not with Graham!! She never was!!! She only was bc she was sad about YOU you idiot (Me, & Sirius probably)
Such a masterpiece. Thank you for writing as always.
Heheheehee. 😈 Writing all the little ways the Felix made Lily lucky and the consequences of that luck (and those yet to be seen…) was genuinely so fun. And hard. But mostly fun lmao.
Thank you so much for this lovely message ❤️❤️❤️
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bitternace · 4 months
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for the spotify thing 40 and. would you be mad at me if I said zexion again
you can do whatever u want forever!!
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—and i can see myself reflected in your eyes
[ID: a digital drawing of a stylized green eye, reflecting zexion, from kingdom hearts. the image has a blue tint and is lightly rendered. the eye stands in the middle of the image, showing skin and a grey eyebrow where the background isn't transparent, cut off in angular sections around the eye. In the middle of the pupilless eye, is zexion, looking back over his shoulder, with one hand against a wall. a diagonal highlight falls over some of his disheveled hair, face and shoulder, where the lineart is a light purple. his mouth is slightly open, expression lightly upset. his hair is mostly away from his face and the eye that doesn't have light falling over it has a white pupil. /End ID.]
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fairydustblossom · 7 months
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encroaching promises
azriel x reader
summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."
category: angst (i just rly love it)
word count: 4.8k
warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??
notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!
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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.
He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far. 
You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.
You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted. 
Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.
After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?
The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.
It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?
Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time. 
You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated. 
And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal. 
When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.
Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of. 
You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over. 
You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.
“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears. 
“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.
The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before. 
Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at. 
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 
Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.
“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.
“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.
He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.
At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”
You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”
You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?” 
His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.” 
His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.
“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”
You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you? 
“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise. 
“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”
“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release. 
Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.
You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?
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Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.
Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell. 
He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.
Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.
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For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.
You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you. 
You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.
Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said.  “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left. 
Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian. 
You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.
When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.
You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it. 
You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.
You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal. 
All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you. 
“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.” 
When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well. 
He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry” 
He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony. 
“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.” 
You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”
At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”
You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting. 
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It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.
You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no  sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.
Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”
Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”
You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.
 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences. 
You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right. 
“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.
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eightstarr · 9 months
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baby — abby anderson.
summary: you're on patrol with abby and you make her squirt for the first time. you don't mean to make a habit out of distracting her, but in your defense, it's hard to focus on anything else when she looks so pretty all serious and focused on keeping you safe! and you are only so strong!
notes: i don't ever really write smut and it for sure shows but anyway here it is! what no one asked for! yet again! also excuse the surprising amount of feelings that are in this considering it's technically supposed to be porn? it wouldn't be me if someone didn't say i love you at least once tho
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"Do you have a danger kink or something?" Abby asks, trying to sound cool, but her breathing's a little too staggered for that. You've got her backed up against a counter in a random kitchen of a lonesome, old house.
You smooth your tongue over her pulse and feel her shudder, your hands sneaking under her loose shirt to cup her waist, fingers squeezing adoringly. "Can't I have some fun with my girl?"
"Yeah, but—" Abby cuts herself off with a moan that's almost embarrassing considering how little you're touching her. "You did this last time, too. It's like you want to get caught."
"Caught by who?" You scoff, lifting your head to look at her, nodding once as a silent way to say up. She abides without thinking, her palms against the counter as she pushes herself up to sit on top of it. You're needy enough that you don't bother teasing, no 'good girl', no 'what would your soldiers think if they saw you be so obedient?'. You slot yourself between her thighs and continue your assault on her neck, fingers brushing over chest. "There's no one here, baby."
Baby is perhaps your biggest tell. You call her baby when she's been away for too long, when you've had a long day and show up at her door unannounced, in the morning when you've woken up from a dream that left you aching that you refuse to share the details of no matter how much she asks. 'Baby' means you're desperate. And 'baby' makes Abby pull you closer, because nothing makes her need you more than you being desperate for her.
She lifts herself up enough to let you pull her cargo pants and boxers off in one motion, and her heart skips a beat as you sink to your knees, guiding her legs over your shoulders. She used to fret about that, fret about a lot of things— but the admittedly ridiculous thought of accidentally squeezing you to death was up there. You'd made the stupid joke, as anyone would, at least I'd die happy. But when that didn't quite work besides earning a roll of her eyes and a slight smirk to her lips, you'd simply gotten back to work on making her cum on your mouth until she had no choice but to close her legs around you. And when she did, the movement mindless and needy, you groaned and left loving fingerprints on her thighs enough to reassure her that you liked it. Loved it. You loved a lot of things that Abby used to be insecure about.
The point is, she shouldn't be shocked to see you get down on your knees. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sight anymore, you've made sure of that. But even on the first time you fucked, with all the eagerness and want and sense of overdue of your affections, Abby doesn't think she saw you quite this ravenous.
It's like you're drunk on it, like you didn't have her in a way not too different from this just a mere two days ago. You eat her like you're fucking starving. Not pulling away to breathe, your nose brushing against her clit just right, moaning every time she bucks her hips or pulls your hair.
When Abby cums, she feels it in her chest. It sinks on top of her, a lovely heaviness, and then drops off of her all together and leaves her weightless. When you don't stop, she breathes out a chuckle that turns into a broken moan and buries her fingers back in your hair, half expecting you to pull away still. But time passes, drags on and speeds away much too fast all at once, and you don't.
She's saying your name, she thinks, or a sound as close to it as her mind will allow her to formulate. Abby knows she's loud by the way her noises are echoing through the empty room, mocking her. Before she can feel embarrassed by it, as if you can read her mind as easily as anything else, you drag your mouth down and fuck into her with your tongue in a way that she didn't know could feel so good before she met you. As quickly as it came, the shame is gone. Her lips part and her sounds grow louder still, spilling out of her carelessly. You want to reward her, you think somewhere in the back of your mind, want her to know how much you love it. It's a privilege to make Abby Anderson a mess, and it always makes you lightheaded with need.
You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck, and Abby lets go of your head for once to grab onto the counter and make a lame attempt to keep herself still, her knuckles white.
The pressure building in her low abdomen is familiar, but then your hand comes to lay flat against the exact spot and something about the weight of it makes the feeling twist into something different.
Abby gasps quick breaths, her eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion and enough pleasure to drown it out and soothe the meaningless pain of bumping her head back against the wall.
"I'm gonna cum," she warns, barely legible. And it's fine, she thinks, it's just like every other time. But then she feels it start to unravel, finally, and it's the same but also not at all. "Fuck, wait, I think— fuck!" she's panting, shaking and forcing her gaze to refocus just to watch the way your eyes fall closed, the way your eyebrows furrow. You moan against her and the sound is loud even while suffocated, even though you've somehow managed to push your face closer to her, press your tongue deeper. Abby feels it gush out of her and it's nothing like anything she's felt before, so good and so much and she doesn't want it to ever end, even as she blabbers, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
You don't seem to hear her, hungrier than she's ever seen you— you look fucking possessed. You pull back and the sight of you is dizzying, embarrassing, and it's the only thing Abby wants to look at for the rest of her life. Your lips are glistening, yes, but so is your chin, your cheeks, her cum dripping down your neck. Your eyes are dark, more pupils than anything else, and they swallow her whole. You haven't pulled back too far, your breath still hot against her, but it's enough that you can replace your mouth with your fingers and rub on her clit. What's left in her comes out in soft spurtz, dripping onto the floor, and you couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried.
But Abby doesn't know that, doesn't know what you're thinking at all. You're surprised, but is it in a bad way? It must be. Are you disgusted? You're so covered in her that it feels like you'll never be able to wash it off, and Abby can't read your mind like you do hers, so she doesn't know that the thought thrills you, that your heart is fucking pounding in your chest, that your underwear is utterly and completely fucking ruined. You lick your lips and swipe your chin with the back of your hand, absentminded. Abby's thinking, begging, say something.
"Holy fuck," is all you can manage, a quiet mutter, breathless. Your fingers haven't stopped rubbing, but a whine and an especially forceful quiver of her legs makes you blink and you stop like you've just come out of a trance, your hand moving instantly to soothe up and down her thigh.
"I'm sorry," Abby repeats, and then you look at her face like you've just remembered it's there.
Look up at her like she's fucking crazy, like she's grown a second head, mumbling, "What?"
"I didn't— I tried to warn you," she says, even though she doesn't know that she could've. It felt so foreign, she wouldn't have known how to explain it, really.
You lower her trembling thighs from your shoulders carefully, not before pressing a kiss against each one, and then you stand up. Abby wonders if this is where you'll tell her you didn't like that, where you'll help her put her clothes back on and then you'll promise each other to never speak of it again. Instead, your eyes grow impossibly gentle, impossibly loving, and you tuck yourself closer between her legs. The hem of your jeans brushes against her core and she gasps, but doesn't move away. "Baby," you call softly, pecking her lips. "Has this never happened to you before?"
Abby feels a little like she's suffocating, the breeze coming in through the window you'd opened when you first came in not enough to soothe her anymore. But you brush your knuckles over the faint scar on her cheekbone and her shoulders grow limp, her body relaxing except for where she's shaking— fuck, she is still fucking shaking. She remembers your question and shakes her head.
You don't show her how embarrassingly proud that makes you, that you made that happen before anyone else did, because it's not the time. You tuck the feeling in your pocket for later and hum, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, to get back on your knees until they're bruised and make her cum in whatever form she'll give you all over again. "Did it feel good?" You ask, not mocking, but curious.
If she wasn't so embarrassed, Abby would've laughed. It is very possible, and the thought does nothing to ease her shame, that nothing has ever felt so good. But admitting that feels like too much, so instead she whispers, "Yeah."
You smile, happy, genuinely relieved. "Then what are you saying sorry for?" You ask, kissing her again before you can help it. "That's my fucking job. I want you to feel good."
The words alleviate like water to a small fire, and Abby feels silly for having forgotten that it's you who she's with. She's had the thought before, but it suddenly becomes more present than ever, practically breathing down her neck— that she wants to keep you forever. Keep is maybe a bad word for it. She wants to be around you forever, for as long as you'll let her, wants to move into your shitty apartment and make you breakfast and sleep every night in your cropped shirts that fit slightly too tight and make her look ridiculous. She ought to say she loves you more often, she thinks. You say it nearly every time you see her now, like the words have been bubbling inside you for too long and now they can't be kept away. It's a fairly fresh relationship, but the feelings are ancient for both of you, and it shows.
"I love you," Abby sighs, and presses her lips against yours before you can say it back. It's sloppy, she's barely starting to come down from her high, but you don't complain. You kiss her with vigor, like you're trying to spell it out with your tongue, I love you. When you pull apart, her eyes fall from your eyes to your chest and she winces, eyes squeezing shut as her forehead falls on your shoulder.
"What?" You ask, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head immediately, without thought.
"Your shirt," she mumbles against you. You glance down and let out a soft oh. The white fabric of your tank top is soaked, mostly near the neckline, sticking to your skin. You hadn't noticed. Abby lifts her head to look at you, freckled face flushed red, so pretty that you forget about the mess she made of you all over again. "You have to change. We can't go back with you looking like that," she says— or begs, more like.
"I didn't bring anything else with me," you tell her, humming appreciatively as you look back down at your chest, grinning. "Besides, this is my favorite shirt now."
Abby groans, the kind of whiney, timid sound that you could've never imagined her making before you become her girlfriend. The kind of sound that makes you weak in the fucking knees, needy and cotton-mouthed. "It's not funny," she hides her face in her hands and huffs, "'S embarrassing."
You're chuckling, but biting into your lip to stifle it when she lowers her head further down, chin against her chest. With careful touch, you wrap your fingers around her wrists and guide her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her skin is hot beneath your lips, and you hum at the feeling of it. She's usually so cold, your Abby, freezing fingers sneaking under your shirt at night and making you shudder. It's a pleasure to make her warm, an honor to see her shy. You love her so much it tugs at you, a constant reminder.
"You're a dream, Abby. Fucking perfect," you say, as clearly as you can while dragging your lips down her neck. She's the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on, so beautiful that sometimes you can't sleep, too excited that she's there next to you to ever close your eyes. And you need her to know, but you're not really one with words, so all that comes out is, "Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants, you know that?"
Abby moans. Her breath gets caught in her throat as you suck marks into her neck and she finds that she couldn't care less right now, about the evidence that'll be left on her skin or your stupid wet shirt. She guides your face up with a hand on the back of your neck, and kisses her flavor off your lips until she can't anymore, until her lungs burn and her lips tingle. Your voice echoes in her head. Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants. Nearly, she thinks. That doesn't sound very fair.
Thick fingers make quick work of your zipper, trailing over your lower tummy and sneaking under your underwear. She's a little fast, but you've never minded. Sometimes she'll notice and force herself to slow down, to savor, but most of the time her mind doesn't let her catch up to it. Like now. She can't worry about looking clumsy or overly-enthusiastic, because she just needs to feel you. Because she wants to check that you weren't lying, that she could've made you cum without ever touching you— and it's there, the overwhelming fucking truth of it soaking her hand. You gasp at the contact, and Abby's thighs squeeze you in place, as if you'd ever leave. "Jesus Christ," she pants. She finds herself saying it a lot lately. Jesus Christ. Oh my fucking God. Calling upon figures she doesn't believe in, delusional enough to think for a second that they'll bring some kind of comfort, release her of her sins.
You're so wet that it doesn't take more than a minute for her confidence to slowly grow back, so wet that it doesn't take more than two to make you cum. It's the fastest she's ever seen you fall apart, and it wouldn't be Abby if her immediate thought (right after that was so fucking hot) wasn't bet I can make it quicker. Her ego fizzles in her chest, warm and euphoric. Abby thinks she doesn't remember the last time she felt as proud about something as she does every time she makes you feel good. Isaac's occasional pat on her shoulder and mutter of 'good job' is laughable in comparison, as is the high of working herself till she's covered head to toe in sweat at the gym, as is everything else.
It might be the honeymoon phase the movies talk about. You slowly catch your breath and raise your head from her shoulder to look at her with the same adoration as you did when she kissed you for the first time, and Abby has a hard time believing that the feeling will ever go away. Movies get a lot of things wrong, anyway.
She's walking slower than usual on your way back home, her steps sluggish, and you're sweet enough to only make fun of her for it a little bit. One comment here and there, earning a scoff when you lean closer and offer to carry her bride style, a badly stifled laugh when you hum thoughtfully and wonder out loud about what Owen must be doing right now.
Her fingers are interlaced with yours and normally she would've let go by now, a little sheepish to show that much vulnerability in front of the people who are supposed to respect her, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind. You crack another stupid joke and she giggles like she did when she was a kid, silly and sweet, tugging your hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.
Manny looks you up and down as soon as you cross the gates, dark eyebrows raised. "The fuck happened to you?" He asks. You look at him with a confused frown and wait for him to clarify, "You're wet."
Abby's stiff as a board where she stands next to you, her quick blinking the only evidence that she hasn't actually been frozen in place by some kind of magic spell.
You're much more casual. "It's fucking hot. I poured some water on myself to cool off."
Manny hums. He's seen you do it before, maybe that's why he doesn't question it. He does note, though, the suspicious way in which Abby walks silently and swiftly past him with her eyes pointedly on the floor. Her hand is tight around yours still, and you follow because— well, of course you do.
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ghouljams · 3 months
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I can just imagine the first time König meets his darling goes a little like; he steps on one of her flowers and out of nowhere this woman appears and starts giving him the dressing down of his life for being "such a clumsy, unobservant oaf," but the whole time he's just starting at her with heart eyes.
She could also keep the name Bee, because she's buzzing about the flowers all day. Though, perhaps she's a bit more like a hornet with that fiery personality she has.
Yeah that's pretty much how it happens.
König has never cared much for plants, he walks through the garden with advisors in tow, grumbling and growling until he finally rounds on them to leave him the hell alone for two goddamn minutes. Christ he didn't become king so he could deal with all this mundanity, he became king because his father was weak and the kingdom was going to shit. Corruption was a hydra, each head he chopped off just sprouted three more. He needed people he could trust, not power hungry nobles that only sought to elevate their own status by joining his cabinet. He may have to look outside the kingdom for that.
König stops at the edge of a wide flower bed, well tended, but in his way. The garden is full of winding paths, ones meant to draw people in to the scenery and inspire admiration in whatever flora is blooming. As previously stated, König has never cared much for plants. He steps off the path and into the bed, not so carefully trampling over the blooms and delicate stems that live there. He's king, these are his gardens, he can destroy what he wishes. Actually it's sort of nice to destroy something after a long day of signing laws and reviewing tax nonsense. He steps more purposefully onto a rose bush, eyes wide and pleased at the way the thorns drag against his clothes and attempt to prick him. Good, he hopes they draw a little blood for the trouble it's causing to walk through them. He even hears them yelp.
Oh no, that was a human. He stops grinding his boot into the woody stems and glances back at you. You look horrified. You look mad. Oh you look mad. He feels the emotion sink down his spin like warm honey, your eyes are furious as you pick your way through the trampled flowers. Actually you stop and gasp in horror at one of the bushes he'd destroyed crouching to fret over the stems and cup the delicate petals. König takes that as his sign to continue his walk. He doesn't expect you to stand in front of him or push your hands against his chest to yell at him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You ask him, fury edging your voice, his eyes dart between yours enjoying the fire in them, "Do you have any idea the work I've had to put in to make the hydrangeas that color? The soil has to be exactly right or they won't be red enough and look at what you're doing to my roses!" You push at him again, he tips his head to properly stare down at you.
"Move." He commands, and you push him again. Something shakes in his eyes, makes the world feel like it's trembling on the edge of insanity.
"You are supposed to stay on the path," You insist, "You move!"
"I am your king," König threatens, "Move or I will move you."
It hardly seems to make you do more than glare. He'd think you were stupid if he hadn't decided you were crazy. You point at the path he's made for himself. "This is my garden, and my flowers, and you-" You jab a finger against his chest, "-are going to apologize for ruining it."
König grabs your wrist and drags you, kicking, the rest of the way across the flower bed. You do your best, but he's sure to make you trample some of your precious flowers same as him. He tosses you onto the path and, though you stumble, you manage to keep yourself upright, glaring as he steps over the stone edging and back onto the path. You clench your hands into fists, and he hopes maybe you'll cry. He likes when that happens, it's fun seeing the waterworks. Instead you slap him, and all his anger and annoyance fall into the pit of his stomach as the chainmail mask stings both his cheek and your hand.
You seem to realize you've just struck the king almost as quickly as König realizes it. Though your reaction and his are miles apart. You freeze and he, decidedly doesn't. König grabs your arms and squeezes you, leaning in close to look you in the eye. You can smell the metal of his mask, see the almost reddish color of his irises. The mad dog that killed his father rather than wait for a throne that was already his. He's going to kill me, you think to yourself, watching the heave of his shoulders as he breathes.
"Do it again," He squeezes you tighter and your fear flips to confusion, "mein Herz, mein liebe, do it again Liebling."
Who are you to deny an order from your king?
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redclercs · 11 months
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we were something, don’t you think so?
— or, the where lewis didn't know what he had until it was gone.
✐ (former) lewis hamilton x reader x carlos sainz
✐ requested, social media au, fc: simone ashley.
✐ warnings: taylor swift references (one day i might stop) (not really), angsty(?).
✐ to the lovely anon who requested this, i hope this is to your liking! if you wanted something else don't hesitate to let me know though♡
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tagged: yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, maxverstappen1 and others.
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landonorris vivan los novioooooos
yourusername ❤️❤️
chilisainz55 TALK ABOUT HARD LAUNCHING!!!
charlos516 i just know someone is listening to happier by olivia rodrigo on repeat
liked by pierregasly
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carlossainz55 mi preciosa🤍 (my precious)
yourusername i love you❤️
ham1ltonlws and it would have been fun, if you would've been the one😭😭
merc3descrier LEWIS LIKED THIS OH I AM SOBBING THIS IS MORE DRAMA THAN MY HEART CAN TAKE
russellseyes do we think lewis is letting go just like that because??? no???
liked by lewishamilton
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─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! i would love to know your thoughts! comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. also, look at me working on requests! if you have made a request and it's not out yet, don't fret! some requests take more time than others and all i do is ask for your patience pretty please♡❞
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priestessofuniverse · 3 months
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What do people think of you ?
Today's pick a card reading is quite simple. 👌 Pick a pile from the pictures , the pile numbers are written to the left . Follow that and find your reading below. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't. This is just a general reading and is meant for fun.
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LET'S GET STARTED 💪✨️
Pile 1 -
You are revered as the pillar of discipline, hardwork and success . In simpler words you're someone who is willing to put in the discipline amd commitment required to achieve a goal. And guess what ? You achieve it too . No stone is left unturned by you when you're trying amd that's what makes people admire you . You're like a shining Star , invoking awe in people. You have a dream for yourself , a Vision that you aspire to be like or have and you're willing to do anything to get to that stage. (Pile 1 I love you guys) You guys are excellent motivators. People start to get their shit together when they see you succeeding in all your ventures.
Advice - Try not let this success get into your head . Stay grounded and humble. Keep yourselves aligned with your vision and you'll succeed at all that stops you . Do not hold on to your failures . Let go and fly high . ✨️
Pile 2 -
You are the very epitome of luck aren't you ? That's what people think. They think you're tremendously lucky. People see you as someone who is literally guided by the heavens towards your dreams and desires while they have to struggle hard. People see you as someone who loves to love and enjoys every little moment of all that life has to offer . People see you as someone who isn't willignto let their failures set them back and is focused on their goal. Most people see your successes but not your struggles . They do not see all the time you had to stumble to finally climb the mountain. But do not fret , their perception of you is quite right. You truly are divinely guided towards what's for you . So let go of all worries and let the divine guide you to all and more .
Advice - Ask and it shall be given. The Divine is with you . Do not hesitate to seek help or support from them . Your spirit guides want you to connect to them a bit more.
Pile 3 -
People believe you're a true leader who knows what to prioritize. You're able to lead everyone in an organized manner . The wheel of fortune helps turn all adversaries into your favor . Sometimes you may feel like you lack strength to go forward but you do not let people see that . You are a true visionary and guide , helped by the universe . People admire you and find your guidance to be quiet influential.
Advice - Do not let your fears hold you back. You truly have the world cheering on for you. 💓
I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THE READING.
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS HOW MUCH OF IT RESONATED .
MAKE SURE TO FOLLOW FOR MORE READINGS.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Adult Education Part 21 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jake works to secure his future with Jessica while also being supportive of her. She is dreading Brian's return to work, but she recognizes that she finally has the friends she deserves.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, language, 18+
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jessica had never been hungover during the week before, but all the celebratory champagne and rough sex had definitely gone to her head a little bit. She groaned when she felt Jake's hand on her shoulder. "Baby, you have to get up," he said, voice hoarse next to her ear. "We have to go to work."
"Oh, god," she groaned, rolling over away from him. "No."
"You have to," he repeated. "It's your first day with tenure, Reedy. You have to go."
A smile spread across her lips in spite of her headache, and she whispered, "Tenure. I have tenure."
"You sure do," Jake drawled softly, and she finally opened her eyes to see him grinning at her. "If you get up now, I'll make you breakfast."
Her stomach growled so loudly they both laughed, and then she pouted playfully. "But I don't have a waffle iron."
He kissed her forehead. "No. But I do. And you told me you weren't going to renew your lease."
"I'm not," she whispered as her heart swelled with happiness. 
"Well, soon enough you'll have daily access to waffles," he whispered, kissing her just below her ear. "I guess I better start cleaning out my closet to make room for your lingerie collection."
Now she wanted to move in with him as soon as possible. She could already picture herself organizing all of her pretty pieces in his nice closet while modeling a few of them for him. She still had some things he'd never seen her in, and it was going to be so much fun to tease him. 
"Get up," he said, patting her butt as he climbed out of bed. "I'll make some eggs."
Jessica went through her morning routine only after taking some Advil, and she had to drink two mugs of coffee before she really felt human. She also left her apartment a good fifteen minutes after than she usually did. "You'll be late," she fretted, running toward her car which was parked next to Jake's truck. "You'll get in trouble."
"Nah," he replied, "Bradshaw will cover for me." He kissed Jessica as she tried to push him toward his truck, stumbling in her high heels.
"Go to work. Goodbye. I love you," she said quickly. "I'll see you tonight!" 
"See you tonight, tenured Dr. Reed," he called out as she climbed into her car and started the engine. 
Jessica barely had time to get to her office before she had to grab her notebooks and head back downstairs to give her first lecture of the day. But it felt so damn good to stand there in front of her students. Dr. Rosenthal wouldn't be stopping in, because he didn't need to. Because she had tenure. And now that her headache was virtually gone and the breakfast that Jake made was sitting nicely in her belly, she kind of felt like screaming about it from the rooftops. 
But she settled for screaming about it at lunchtime when she grabbed the little container of food Jake made and took it over to the math building. After one knock on her friend's office door, it swung open revealing a bright smile. Jessica screeched quietly and hugged her. 
"I have tenure," she whispered.
"Well, obviously," Advanced Calculus replied. "There was never any doubt in my mind."
Jessica set her lunch down on the desk while her friend closed the door. "I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me. Helping me set everything up with Rosenthal and giving up so much of your free time and everything," she gushed. "Just... thank you. And I hope you had a nice time at the library with Bradley."
She snorted in response as she opened her tie dye lunchbox. "Bradley had a great time at the library, as per usual. And once again, I don't think you appreciate how very much I want to see Brian go down like a sinking ship. In fact, I volunteered for another special project."
"What kind of project?" Jessica asked as she watched her friend dip a carrot stick into some hummus. 
"I can't talk about it quite yet. I have another meeting with Dean Walters in an hour, but I think it's a project that you'll fully support." Then she bit into the carrot like a woman who was in complete control of her surroundings, and Jessica couldn't think of a single reason why she couldn't be the same way.
"If you think I'll appreciate your new project, then I can't wait to hear about it later," she said, taking a bite of the delicious food Jake made for her. 
"I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can."
After lunch, Jessica took some time to gather her scattered notes to teach Brian's senior studies class for the last time. She learned as much about chemistry from the students as they had from her, and after she worked a few problems out on the board with them, she asked, "If you have any other questions for me, please let me know now. This is the last time I'll be covering this class."
"What do you mean?" one of the students asked, leaning forward in his seat. 
"Dr. Conley will be back for class next week," she explained, and then she heard an outraged sigh followed by some muttering. "It'll be okay though," she said in a tone she hoped was reassuring. "You've all been doing so well, and you're so close to graduation now!"
"But Dr. Conley doesn't even show up to class."
"He doesn't help us with anything."
"Is there any way you can stay until the end of the semester?"
"What about the practice problems you give us?"
The sudden influx of comments and questions made Jessica feel better and also so much worse at the same time. She let them all get their concerns out of their system before she said, "My office hours are always available for you. And you can still email me if you want to. I can even try to make more practice problems, but honestly, all of you are much better at chemistry than I am. Maybe you can run the class yourselves if Dr. Conley isn't here?"
She hated Brian. She actually still hated him. But more so for these students now than on her own behalf. They all looked concerned and apprehensive, and she spent another ten minutes talking to them until they were calm enough to head to their next class. She wished she could finish teaching them for the rest of the semester, and she decided she would ask Dean Walters if there was any chance she could teach her own senior studies class for physics majors next school year.
-----------------------------
Jake was already home and showered with dinner in the oven, eating some chips on the couch while he waited for Jessica. He was keeping a running tally of things he still needed to give her since he'd already willingly handed over his heart. His spare key was sitting next to his feet which were propped up on the coffee table. He had already cleaned out half of his closet and consolidated his stuff to make some room. And he wanted to pay for the flights to Massachusetts and Texas for her once she approved the dates. 
When his phone lit up with a text letting him know she was here, he ran down to her car in just his sweatpants and slippers with his spare key ring looped around his finger. "Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her overnight bag from her hand as she locked her car.
"I did," she replied quietly. "I left so late, because I talked to the dean about teaching my own senior studies class next term."
"And?"
She smiled as they walked to his condo. "He said it's a good possibility now that I have tenure."
"There's nothing you can't do." Jake kissed her and pressed the key ring into her hand.
"What's this?" she asked, looking at it as she stood outside the front door. "Oh!" She slipped it into the lock and let them both inside as she blushed. "You want me to have it now? Even though I'm not moving in quite yet?"
"Please," he replied as he walked inside, his eyes catching on the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. "You can come and go as you want, but I hope you'll be here more often than not."
Jake watched as she took her keys out again and added his ring to them. "Thank you." She was fiddling with them a little bit when she looked up at him as she stepped out of her high heels. "Brian will be back tomorrow," she said softly. "That's what Dr. Rosenthal told me when I ran into him. And if he doesn't know I have tenure by now, he'll find out soon enough."
Jake collected her in his arms. "He can't do anything about it now, Reedy. It's a done deal. And unless you fuck up spectacularly at work, which you definitely won't, he's not entitled to say anything about it."
She nodded against him. "I know that. I do know that, but I still don't want to have to see him and hear his stupid, condescending voice complain about me."
He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her before he whispered, "You wear your tenure like a shield. And if he can't figure out how to shut his mouth, you let me know, and I'll be there in an instant."
Jessica shivered in his arms. "That shouldn't sound as sexy as it does. You know..." she mused, "none of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brian in the face the first time. So I guess I really have you to thank."
"How so?" Jake asked as he led her to the kitchen where the oven timer was going off. 
"You punched Brian, and then his wife saw his messed up face. And then she came to campus looking for answers and found him with the teaching assistant. And then he took a leave of absence." When Jake set down the baking dish and glanced over his shoulder, she was smiling brightly. "Jake, you literally saved my career with your fist!"
He shrugged and shook off his oven mitts. "All I did was punch someone who was trying to intimidate my girlfriend. I'll do it again if I have to. Now, would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on top of your dinner?" he asked as he cut into the casserole. He ended up with Jessica in his arms. 
----------------------------
Jessica heard the whispers all day on Thursday. If Dr. Rosenthal hadn't told her that Brian was coming back, she would have chalked it up to everyone at the university being addicted to their daily gossip, but she half expected to see him lurking around every corner. She kind of wanted to go right to Brian's office, knock on the door and tell him that she got tenure just to get it over with. But when she thought about seeing his face, she shook her head in disgust. 
She hadn't heard much from Jake all day, and Advanced Calculus was scarce as well. But when she went to the lounge to make a sad cup of coffee before her office hours started, the teaching assistant that Brian had been sleeping with was in there along with another one that Jessica wasn't familiar with. They must not have seen her at first as they were clearly talking about Brian.
"He looks terrible, honestly. Like he hasn't slept. I'm sure he's going to ask me if I want to mess around again, especially since his wife left."
"I don't know. I heard he's actually pretty upset that she took the kids. But I really want to know who broke his nose in the first place."
Jessica considered sneaking back out of the room, but it was too late. They had seen her, and they both snapped their mouths closed. Had Sabrina Conley really taken their kids? Was she gone for good? Jessica thought she'd probably be better off without her husband. She also wanted to ask the TA if she knew Brian was married when they were messing around before, but it was really none of her business. 
"Hi," she greeted evenly, strolling toward the coffee maker. The only sound in the small room was her high heels tapping against the floor as she walked. But neither of them said a word in response before they turned and left. Maybe they were embarrassed about being caught talking about Brian, or maybe Jessica still had a bad reputation in the science department. Either way, she was going to take her coffee upstairs and wait for Luca to stop by before spending the night cuddled up with Jake. 
When she finished stirring her drink and turned toward the door, she almost spilled her coffee all over herself. "Brian," she gasped, taking an awkward step backwards so her hip hit the edge of the counter a bit painfully. He looked so angry, she immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest as her nerves took over. 
"Call me Dr. Conley," he snapped, and she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she stood there silently. 
Jessica's hands shook as she tried to walk to the door, but he didn't budge from his spot blocking her exit path. "Excuse me," she said, trying her best to sound stronger than she felt. 
"I don't even want to know how badly your lesson plans have gone off course over the past few weeks," he practically growled. "You're going to need to schedule a meeting with me to go over everything. The sooner the better."
"No."
Brian looked surprised by her response. "Yes," he replied with a sarcastic laugh. "I know you think you really did something special by getting that asshole to punch me in the face, but your days here are fucking numbered. Understand?"
"No," Jessica repeated as Jake's voice in her mind kept telling her to wear her tenure like a shield. Plus, she could clearly picture the paperwork she signed with Dr. Rosenthal since she read over it a dozen times. "I don't have to answer to you about my curriculum choices any longer."
He laughed. "Okay, so now you're unreliable, slutty, and stupid?"
"I have tenure," she said firmly, gripping the coffee a little tighter while his eyes bugged out in anger. 
He shook his head. "You can't get tenure unless you get it through me," he snarled.
Jessica looked at his crooked nose and miserable expression, and if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she might have laughed. "You can ask Dean Walters for a copy of my signed paperwork. And if you have concerns about my curriculum, then you can take it up with him." She tried to duck past him through the doorway, certain her resolve was almost gone now. 
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded loudly, and she jumped back. "Explain yourself right fucking now."
"Dr. Conley!" came a familiar voice from the hallway, and then Dr. Rosenthal was poking his head in the lounge door. "You shouldn't be raising your voice like that to Dr. Reed, especially since you're on probation."
"Probation?" Jessica whispered, and Brian's face soured further.
"Mind your own business, Rosenthal," he snapped, and under his breath he added, "you should have retired a decade ago."
"Yes. Probation," came another familiar voice as Advanced Calculus strolled in with a notebook in her hand like she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped right in front of Brian with her back to Jessica, acting almost like a buffer. "He's in a lot of trouble," she said in a voice that bordered on teasing, and Brian's face grew pink.
"What do you mean?" Jessica whispered, and the other woman smirked at her over her shoulder.
"He's on probation for a history of behavioral issues, and I volunteered to be his probation officer of sorts," she replied before turning back toward Brian. "Don't forget, Dean Walters asked to check in with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I'll be dropping by your classes to make sure you actually show up to them. Oh, and I'll have to add to my report that you raised your voice to a professor with tenure while she was just trying to make a cup of coffee." She tapped her notebook. "It's not looking good, Brian."
Jessica watched Dr. Rosenthal shuffle away after he cleared his throat, and Brian spun on his heel to follow suit. "Is this for real?" Jessica asked, looking around the room to try and tell if she was in a dream.
"Yep. He's my new volunteer project. I think Dean Walters could just tell that I have a lot of experience taming fuckboys. But Brian takes the cake, let me tell you. He's been skipping out on his classes to meet up with different women."
Jessica adjusted her glasses and looked at the floor as she whispered, "I never missed my classes when he and I were...."
"Of course not," she said blandly. "That's why you were given tenure instead of being put on probation. You actually do your job. He doesn't. Now, I was thinking about Chippy's tomorrow night? Kind of a celebration?"
Jessica just blinked at her. "A celebration for what?"
"You! A tenure party! Fratraiser part deux as Bradley has been calling it. You know what, I'll take care of the whole thing. Don't even stress about it."
Jessica had been planning on spending the weekend cleaning out her apartment before she started to move a few things to Jake's place. But going out for a bit could be fun. She had more friends in San Diego now than she ever dreamed she would. "What were you thinking? Like a double date?"
"Something like that," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "How about tomorrow night at eight?"
"Let me check with Jake," she said right away.
"Oh, Jake already knows."
--------------------------------
"We'll just stay for a little bit and then head home again," Jessica whispered as she and Jake made their way slowly from his truck to Chippy's. He was fucking obsessed with the way she just called his condo home. He was obsessed with everything about her as he pressed her up against the side of Chippy's out on the sidewalk. She'd let him dress her for the night by turning it into a game, and he had chosen a black lace bodysuit paired with a mini skirt and denim jacket.
"I made a mistake," he whispered, voice rough with need as he let his hand slip underneath the skirt. Then he moaned, "A huge mistake."
She laughed as he bumped her glasses with his nose while he kissed her ear. "Did you?"
Jake was uncomfortably hard in his jeans. "Baby, I really want to fuck you. And your outfit is not helping," he added as he squeezed her bare thigh.
"That's your fault," she whispered with a grin while he whined. "Seriously, we'll just stay for a drink or two. It'll be like a double date. And then we can do whatever you want, okay?"
Jake took her hand in his, kissed her fingers and said, "On the way home, you're ordering those toys from that dirty website you found. I think we need all of them."
He could tell she was blushing in the darkness by the warmth of her cheeks against his lips. "Okay," she agreed softly, and Jake had to adjust himself in his jeans before they could walk inside. 
"Holy shit," he gasped when a crowd of people cheered Congratulations! to his girlfriend. Bradshaw's wife didn't mention there would be this many people in attendance. He saw Bradshaw with his backwards hat and hideous tie dye shirt with his arms wrapped around his wife, but all of the other aviators were there, too. Jake spotted a much older man in a sweater vest sipping a beer, and he assumed that must have been Rosenthal. And of course someone had invited Dev.
"You okay?" Jake asked Jessica as she just stood next to him with happy tears in her eyes. She nodded and sniffed as she read the banner that was hanging above Chippy behind the bar. 
CONGRATS, REEDY!
"Yeah, I'm okay," she whispered, burying herself against Jake as he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm just surprised so many people cared enough to be here."
"Don't cry, Jess!" Bradley shouted over the music and conversation as his wife headed over. "It's a happy occasion! It's not like you're in a relationship with Jake or something horrible. Oh... wait...."
Jake shot him a nasty look while he laughed hysterically, and he watched Jessica hug everyone in attendance, thanking all of them individually for coming to her party. Jake briefly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as he asked, "You want a Sam Adams, Baby?"
"Yes," she replied, but then she added, "but I want to thank Chippy, too." And with that, Jessica walked right behind the bar and gave the grouchy bar owner a hug, and Jake saw a rare smile break out on his face. "Thank you for always welcoming me here," she told him softly while Jake leaned on the bar. "I felt safe here when I didn't really feel safe anywhere else."
Chippy patted her on the head and then started to push her away as he got a little emotional himself. "You're always welcome here, Reedy," he told her before he started to reach for some bowls to fill them with peanuts, and Jessica walked back around the bar and into Jake's arms. Chippy poured a few beers, and set them down in front of Jake as he growled, "So I guess you're sticking around then?"
"Looks that way," Jake replied, leaning down to kiss Jessica's cheek. "Until this one comes to her senses."
"I told you I wouldn't," she replied with a laugh. Then she turned to Chippy and said, "He's not so bad. And he's sweet to me."
"Then I guess he can stay," Chippy replied with a shrug, still glaring slightly. 
Jake picked up two beers and led the way to a table near the others while Jessica carried the peanuts. "I think he finally tolerates me," Jake boasted. 
"It only took you several months," she replied with a smirk. "Chippy didn't fall for your charms as quickly as I did."
Jake set the beers down next to the peanuts and pulled Jessica closer to him. "You made me work hard for it. Ever since the first night I met you when you brought me here for a three dollar beer."
She reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "I had to know for sure. That you really wanted me."
Jake kissed her rough on the lips right in front of everyone. "I need you, Jessica," he promised, making her smile. "I love you."
"Okay, that's enough of that," Bradshaw's wife said, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "I just have a few words I want to say." She looked a little emotional as she started. "Jessica, you've become one of my very best friends in just a few short months. I know that your time at San Diego State started off a little rocky for you, and I'm sincerely sorry from the bottom of my heart that I didn't take the time to get to know you last semester when you really needed a friend in your corner. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I have ever met in my life."
Jake held Jessica as she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm the one who should be saying nice things to you!" she replied, swiping at her tears behind her glasses. "You've done so much to help me."
"And you've done so much by taking Jake off our hands for us," Bradley added loudly as everyone started laughing. 
"That's fair," Jake admitted with a grin as he pressed his lips to Jessica's hair.
Then Bradshaw's wife lifted her pint glass in the air, and everyone else did as well. "Congratulations on your tenure, Dr. Reed!"
The bar erupted in loud cheers, and Bradley shook up a bottle of champagne. Jake spent the rest of the night kissing the sticky sweetness from Jessica's face and making sure Dev kept his hands to himself. He made sure his girlfriend always had a Sam Adams in her hand and that her denim jacket was neatly buttoned over that bodysuit that he was dying to get his hands on. 
He didn't mind sharing Jessica with everyone else for the evening, especially since she'd made such a good friend in Bradshaw's wife. But much later, when Jessica turned and looked at him while she intentionally unbuttoned her jacket, he was more than ready to get her alone. 
"Take me home, Jake," she said sweetly, reaching for his hand. "I'm ready to go home."
He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her. "Let's get out of here, Smart Girl."
---------------------------
I hope you loved reading this as much as I have loved writing it! There will not be just one, but TWO epilogues! Stay tuned for those and pegging! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 22
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miinatozakiii · 18 days
Text
i fall in love too fast
kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader (remastered) ; part two; fluff
summary: your niece needs to stop watching so many romance movies because what the hell she's five and sana... well sana thinks she's crushing on someone's mother.
wc: 3.9k
warnings: mentions of food ; not proofreaddd
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a few customers held you up, you were supposed to be in your car earlier, supposed to be at hana’s school early – but of course, someone had to order six drinks during a rush, keeping you at work for a few more minutes than you’d like. 
once you make it to the car, you rush to startthe engine and get out your parking spot. tapping your finger on the steering wheel as you drive, you glance at the car's screen. the time reads '3:11 pm,' which means hana will be out in about four minutes. you make a guess that you'll arrive in a few minutes late. the worry that hana might be confused about where you are runs through your mind, but you convince yourself not to fret. after all, she's strong, and you know it – she’s your niece after all. 
somehow you manage to make it to the entrance just before hana is supposed to be out. fiddling with the collar of your white button-up shirt that you still have on from work, you anxiously await for when the bell will ring, anticipating the kids to start spilling out of the entrance doors to reunite with their families – eagerly waiting to see hana again.
you check your watch, reading the 3:15 pm, and seconds later – the bell rings.
it was only a minute later that you started to see groups of kids being led out by various teachers. you scanned the area for a bit, thankful that your height allowed you to see over some of the parents' heads. finally, you spot your little niece standing with a group of kids, holding each other by the little hook-like fabric on top of their bags to stay connected.
amidst the sea of parents and children, your eyes also locked onto sana, effortlessly standing out even in the crowd of chaos. her gentle hand held that of a child at the front of the group, a caring smile gracing her features.
you made your way over to where hana stood, her eager eyes scanning the crowd until they finally landed on you. without hesitation, she dashed towards you, her arms outstretched in anticipation of the hug she knew was coming. for a five-year-old, her determination was astonishing, and the way she almost knocked you off balance was comparable to a linebacker (well, close enough. maybe a linebacker on the youth team). as she crashed into you with surprising force, you couldn't help but marvel at her energy, laughing, and wonder if she should consider joining a football team someday. yeah, definitely her dad’s genes.
"y/n!" her grin widened as she approached, and you quickly knelt down to her level, wrapping her in a warm hug. "i missed you, y/n!"
“hey, hi,” you feel her squeezing you tighter as you hug her, kissing the side of her head as you do. “i missed you too!” you greet happily, voice muffled a bit. pulling away, you brush some of her hair out of her face, hair looking a little more ruffled than this morning. “seem’s like someone had a fun day at school.”
“so much fun! today ms. minatozaki let us paint and! and! she gave me more stickers for being good! they're sharks too!” the little girl beams, making you smile. “and then we had recess and i played a lot and ran a lot and– oh! ms. minatozaki said i was good today!”
you laugh. “is that so?”
“yes! does this mean we can go to the cafe? please? i was good i promise.” hana pleads, tugging at your rolled sleeve. 
huming as you think to yourself, you her teacher in the corner of your eye. “hmm, we’ll have to ask ms. minatozaki to make sure, won’t we?” you’re really just saying that as an excuse to talk to your niece's teacher again.
you steal a glance at sana, who is smiling and waving to a set of parents, the dad carrying their child on his shoulders. her eyes sparkle with surprise and delight as they meet yours, her cheeks gradually tinting a shade of pink. unaware of her reaction, you remain lost in admiration as you stare.
sana bids a final goodbye to the parents and the kid before you and your niece make your way over to her.
"hana, hello there, sweetie," sana greets your niece warmly. then, her gaze shifts to you, her smile widening even further. "it's wonderful to see you again, y/n," she adds, her words sending a warm flutter through your chest, your heart skipping a beat.
she still looks as beautiful as she did in the morning, maybe even prettier. that voice of hers is still soft and sweet when she greets you with joy; her face lights up the same way.
"it's wonderful to see you too," 
without thinking, you straighten your shirt and adjust your pleated pants to appear more presentable. a smile graces both your lips and sana's. a brief silence ensues as you lock eyes with each other, and you feel a warmth rising in your ears, gradually spreading to your cheeks like a small fire.
trying to clear the tension, you clear your throat and tug at your collar, then respond, “how was hana today?” 
hana looks up at her teacher with hopeful, puppy eyes, silently pleading for a positive response. sana chuckles softly to herself, amused by hana's adorable expression.
“she was great today, and really helpful too,” sana assures, earning a sigh of relief from hana.
“is that so?” you question – sana hums in response.
“she helped me put the paintbrushes back, as well as the markers. she’s a sweet girl, big help.” sana explains.
hana tugs at your hand, “i told you! i told you i was good! so can we go to the cafe? please?” 
chuckling again, you nod at the little girl, then bring your gaze back to the woman in front of you.
“i guess we should get going then…” you begin, your gaze tearing away from sana reluctantly to look back down at the girl beside you. “why don’t you say bye to your teacher, hana?” 
hana nods and you watch as sana crouches down to meet the girl's level, placing a hand on her head before sliding it down to the girls cheek. hana puts her smaller hand on sana’s before she hugs her, and for a moment you think to yourself: gosh, i wish that were me. 
sana parts from hana, standing back up and fixing loose hair that falls over her face. you steal another glance at the young teacher before hana goes back to you to hold your hand and tug you away. 
the last look you and sana share has this weird sense  of longing, there’s an unspoken desire to get to know each other more, to maybe get a few extra minutes to, well, maybe just stare at each other’s faces until someone decides to say something.
 but then, letting go, you finally wave to her with a smile, and she shoots you and your niece a toothy grin “goodbye.” 
-
"alright, time to head home," you announce, grabbing hana's tiny school bag and placing it in the front seat. after securing her in the car seat, you close the door and settle into the driver's seat. 
with a turn of the key, the engine roars to life, but before you can even back up, hana beams, “buckle up!”
“of course, i wouldn’t forget the most important step.” 
a jazz favorite from months ago begins to play after you hit shuffle on one of the playlists you made with your niece. adjusting the volume to create a soft background melody, you listen along as hana starts to hum along.
you pull into your regular spot by the side of the cafe and turn off the engine. grabbing hana's bag from the passenger seat, you step out of the car and hold the door to the backseats open for her to hop out. her eyes light up at the sight of the cafe's exterior, and she wastes no time in darting towards the entrance. 
“hana wait! be careful!” you call out, hurriedly shutting the door and fumbling with the keys to lock your car before running after the excited five-year-old.
entering the cafe, you're greeted by the familiar and inviting atmosphere. the air carries the aroma of freshly baked pastries mingled with the rich scent of espresso shots being pulled. the cozy ambiance of the cafe envelops you both, lifting both your spirits.
thankfully, it’s not too busy at the moment. you spot a few adults in their work clothing sitting and chatting at the table for four near the window, sipping on their drinks – looks like a couple of lattes and americanos. the dim corner to the right is lit up by a small lamp hanging from above, occupied by a few high school students laughing. they seem to be treating themselves to a small cake, a little candle is at the side – probably for someone's birthday.
you scan the area, shifting your look over to where the familiar baker and barista are. the baker notices you and stops what she’s doing to wave happily.
“ah, y/n! you’re back, did you miss me that much?” dahyun jokes, “oh, and you brought my favorite customer too.” she adds, redirecting her gaze to meet hana. hana gives the dark-haired woman a big, gummy, and toothy smile before going to hug the woman as she walks out from behind the counter.
“ms. dahyun! today was my first day of school! my teacher says i was great!” hana boasts, and dahyun laughs before ruffling her hair up a bit.
“wow, i’m impressed. hmm… maybe i should give you the special treat i prepared then.”
“please please please please please please-”
“alright, alright. a special treat for my favorite customer coming up! my favorite new student.” dahyun says cheerfully. the shorter woman heads behind the counter, and you lift hana onto the chair near the counter.
you make your way behind the counter as well, right over to where the taller barista works. he’s busy measuring the coffee grinds for an espresso shot, furrowing his brows as he takes a small portion of the ground coffee out from the portafilter.
“chaemin,”
he jumps a little and you laugh teasingly.
“my god! don’t do that!”
“oops.” you shrug. “can i steam some milk real quick? i need to make something for my niece.”
“you’re giving espresso to a five-year-old?” chaemin asks, visibly concerned. he turns his body to you fully, raises his brows, and looks down at you in disbelief.
“of course not, she’s already a handful without the caffeine. i’m just gonna make her a hot chocolate.”
“i see, okay. good.” he says before bringing his attention back to the portafilter and tamping the coffee grinds. “by the way, where’s johnny? i thought he would be the one taking hana to school – or picking her up – you know, since he's her dad and all.”
“he wanted to, but he had this last-minute business trip. the way he complained in person and over the phone was… rough – but he’ll be back in two days.”
“i see.”
you and chaemin continue to engage in some small talk about whether it was busy or anything while you were gone for those few minutes while you make the hot chocolate.
dahyun has already given the giddy five-year-old her cream-filled croissant with a variety of fruits inside, along with a drizzle of milk chocolate syrup on top. 
 dahyun pushes the plate toward the girl. “i made it just for you, i even added extra strawberries and chocolate since you like them so much.”
“ms. dahyun you’re the best! it looks really yummy! thank you thank you thank you!” she says excitedly, then dahyun pats her shoulder.
“anything for the young scholar.”
“you never make me anything like that.” you mumble as you make a design with the steamed milk and chocolate.
“you’re not a scholar, y/n. you lack a lot up there actually.” she jokes, poking you right in the forehead.
“ouch.” you respond, looking at her with a pout and setting down the hot chocolate with the heart design you made with the steamed milk. hana smiles, looking at the drink and pastry eagerly, but just as she is about to dig in–
“phone eats first.” you halt her actions, forcing her to pose and smile for the family group chat. she groans in response before dahyun encourages her to grin for the camera, giving her a thumbs up. 
you sit beside hana and watch her eat while you hold your head in your palm, smiling at her. dahyun goes back to rolling whatever dough she was working on before, and you scroll through the family group chat, texting your brother and mom.
“these are so good, thank you aunt y/n,” hana says with a mouth full of the croissant.
“you should thank dahyun for that, but i’m glad you like them. also, don’t talk while you have so much food in your mouth!” you scold playfully before taking a sip of the iced americano chaemin had made you. hana sticks her tongue out at you and you pinch her nose lightly, making the two of you laugh.
hana gulps down the bite she had just chewed up, then mumbles, “aunt y/n, can i ask you something?”
you raise a brow. “what is it?”
“do you… do you like my teacher?”
“oh, of course. she’s sweet and takes good care of you, i’m fond of her. she seems great.” you answer before taking another sip of your coffee.
“no, do you like like her? like in the movies? the lovey dovey ones where they kiss–” 
“w-what? why- where did this come from?” you question, sitting straight up. hana’s directness nearly makes you choke on your coffee. chaemin overhears the conversation and his eyes land on the two of you.
“you like your niece's teacher?” he says in disbelief, a hand on his hip and a brow raised. you look at your co-worker and then back to your niece, waving your hand to shut down these bold (but pretty reasonable) allegations.
“no, no – it’s not like that,” you start, trying to keep your voice and tone relaxed. chaemin and the little girl don’t seem to be fooled. “she’s just nice, we’re just friendly. she’s your teacher, of course i’m going to be friendly with her.”
“ok, then why did you look at her like that? you looked all lovey-dovey and your ears turned red!”
“oh? what is this i’m hearing?” dahyun interjects, which earns her a glare from you before you look back at your niece.
“i- no, it’s not like that! we just met hana, don’t be ridiculous.” you say defensively, and then hana’s smile grows, it makes you uneasy.
“your ears are turning red again, just like in those cartoons and movies!”
“what movies are you watching? you’re like, five! shouldn’t you be watching some normal cartoons? like something with mermaids or superheroes or something?” you groan, growing more defensive as dahyun and chaemin team up with hana to poke at you.
you roll your eyes at them, but the thought of sana tugs at your heartstrings.
you don't buy into the idea of love at first sight; it seems too simplistic, too much like something out of a disney movie. however, you can't deny the impact the woman who will be teaching your daughter every day has had on you. she’s shot an arrow through your heart just like cupid.
she’s undeniably beautiful, but it's more than just that. you find yourself thinking about her infectious smile, her contagious smile, and the way her nose scrunches up when she does both. the memory of her holding your hand when you greeted her lingers in your mind, even as you're teased and poked fun at by those around you. god, you’ve just met her.
you won’t admit it outloud, but this woman did have an effect on you, and you were scared that it would be harder to hide that the more you saw her.
“look, i just think she’s a nice person okay,” you shrug, and then you begin (or at least try) to change the topic. “anyways… how was your first day of school? what else did you do?”
dahyun laughs at your attempt to change the subject and decides to give you a break by returning to what she was doing. she shoots chaemin a cheeky look, which you ignore, choosing instead to focus all your attention on hana.
“it was great! you were right y/n, i made a friend! her name is jiyeong, she’s taller than me by this much,” hana shows you the height difference by pinching her fingers down, except there’s an inch of space in between. “also,” hana begins, “ms. minatozaki read us a story, she’s super nice. she smiled and laughed a lot, she smiles like a princess. she kind of looks like one." hana adds, and you certainly agree with that statement. hana thinks to herself a bit, then adds her final remark, "she also helped everyone with their paintings, she’s so cool! i like her a lot.”
you grin at the girl and take her empty plate, pushing it to the other side of the counter for chaemin to take.
 “i’m really glad you made a friend, i told you my genes were passed on to you!” you mess with her hair. “and i’m glad you like ms. minatozaki, it’s important that you have nice and caring teachers.”
“and pretty teachers too, right?” she teases, and you laugh, messing with her hair once more.
“alright smarty pants, finish up your hot chocolate so we can get going.” you sigh, rolling your eyes playfully before walking behind the counter to wash hana’s dish. 
-
“how was work?” jihyo asks.
she backs her car out of the parking spot in front of the school. sana has never been one to drive herself, always relying on the bus or getting a ride from a friend. however, this year she's in luck, since she'll likely be getting regular rides home from both her best friend and the mother of one of her students – one of the best drivers of the century.
sana sighs and smiles, then sets her head down against the headrest of the passenger seat. “it was really good, the students are all great. your daughter did well too.”
jihyo smiles upon hearing this. “i’m glad jiyeong was good,” then she looks at her daughter through the mirror. “jiyeong, sweetheart, how was school?” 
“good mom! i had lots of fun and ms. minatozaki is really nice! i made a new friend too.” the little girl in the backseat responds. “her name is hana, she’s cool and nice and funny and i like her a lot. we promised to be best friends this year!” 
sana tenses up at the mention of hana, and she thinks of the girl’s captivating mother–you. sana starts to zone out whilst jihyo talks with her daughter, and she really just thinks about you. she replays the memory of shaking your hand–big, soft, nice to hold, the small peak of ink under your wrist, the bracelets, and wow she is a mess from just the interaction–and about your cheery grin, as well as your caring nature. the look you had given her this morning replays in her head, the small dimple you had, how perfect your teeth were, and the sparkle of your eyes as you looked at sana.
she daydreams of you the whole way back to her place, pushing aside the fact that you’re a mother, probably not single considering how charming and cute you are.
her heart sinks a little at the thought of that, and she tells herself to compose herself, there are always others, right? other fish in the sea? 
(but none that were as cute as you.)
"alright, we're here. say bye to your teacher jiyeong." jihyo insists, adjusting the gear stick so the car is parked in front of the apartment complex. sana smiles at jihyo and steps out of the car, closing the door behind her. she waves at jihyo and her daughter through the window.
“thank you ms. minatozaki! see you tomorrow!”
“bye jiyeong, i hope you have a good night. you too, jihyo, thank you again.”
“it’s no problem, your place is on the way to our house anyway, have a good night sha.”
jihyo waves once more before rolling the passenger seat window up and driving away. sana clutches her work back and starts to walk towards her apartment.
the young teacher unlocks the apartment door and sets her bag on the hook to the right of the door. with a sigh, she kicks off her shoes, feeling the weight of the day starting to lift. as she moves into the kitchen, she finds herself drawn to the familiar routine of making a cup of tea. it's a comforting ritual, one that helps her unwind and transition from the demands of her day to the peace of her home. kids are amazing, wonderful, and adorable–but they’re also draining, very draining.
she leans against the counter in her work clothes, staring at the cup in her hand.
the thought of you reaches back, invading her mind, her. 
you’re cute, you’re effortlessly cute with everything you do. sana thinks of the first glance, remembering how bells started to ring and imaginary petals started to fall after she made eye contact and– god she needs to stop watching those stupid dramas jihyo keeps reccomending her because they’re starting to turn her into some hopeless romantic. this can’t be, it’s only been one day, hell, not even an hour of being in the same room of you.
sana feels her cheeks warming up, cursing herself mentally. 
you’re a mother, whether that be biologically or not, you’re a mother. it would (most likely–well, very_ unprofessional to pursue someones mother, especially if you have a husband or anything like that. she can’t pine over someone who’s taken, not again, she’s learned from her junior in high school already, she can’t possibly live through that again.
sana sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “i really have to talk to jihyo about this.” 
taking out her phone, she finds jihyo’s contact and pauses, letting out another small sigh. the thought of having to navigate through the year while constantly encountering your pretty face and charming personality fills her with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. there's a part of her that can't help but look forward to the interactions and moments shared even if you’re taken. 
(it’s not like she can’t control how she feels, so if she’s able to at least hide it–then that should be fine.
right?)
she clicks on the little phone icon, and after a few rings, it's answered by jihyo. the sound of her voice comes through the line, accompanied by the faint background noise of what seems like the opening of a door.
"sana? hello? what is it? everything okay?” 
"jihyo."
jihyo blinks, letting her daughter into the house before answering in a slightly concerned tone, "yes?"
“on a scale of one 1-10–and be honest–how wrong is it to have a crush on your students' mother?”
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enviedear · 7 months
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is it real ⟶ anakin skywalker
description ⌙ it's easier to hate him than it is to be honest in how much you care for him, but anakin makes a mission of making hating him near impossible. pairing ⌙ anakin x fem!reader warnings ⌙ saber graze, tending to a wound, a petty argument, a little angst. word count ⌙ 2.8k
— request | masterlist
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totally inspired by this masterpiece of a song that i can't get out of my head. it's so ani coded i had to indulge.
"there's a med-pack by the table." anakin's voice is soft, enough so to distract slightly from the searing pain emitting from the saber graze at your ribs.
"can you, fuck, help?" you barely make it to his bed before your knees give.
at your falter he rushes to you, eyes wide, "c'mere, let me see."
you don't fight him when he rips your tunics off, exposing the large gash at your ribcage. you take in a breath at the sight of it. far larger and worse than you had previously thought.
"obi-wan was right," he grabs for the med-pack before kneeling down to you, "you have to stop trying to fight all on your own."
you want to roll your eyes, you want to smack him upside the head. for as long as you've known the boy, he's had an annoying tendency of fretting over you, acting as though you were delicate.
when you were younger, it was easier for you to accept such behavior. but as the two of you grew, it became far harder to ignore the way his kindness caused your mind to drift toward something utterly wrong. friendship had since turned into acquaintanceship.
it was so much easier this way.
"says you, skywalker." your voice is gritty, watching his mechanic hand begin to clean the wound.
he ignores your irritation, "maybe if you'd let me help you—"
you interrupt him, eyes narrowed, "i'm letting you help right now, aren't i?"
his hand stills for a second before continuing its work, "you know what i mean."
you're not sure you do. in truth, there could be a million things he could mean. you rarely lean on your fellow jedi, especially not anakin. not when being around him makes your heart race faster than a speeder.
you try to avoid him as much as possible. you'd rather eat at a crowded table than with him at his empty one, rather fight a group of enemies alone than beside him, rather keep your thoughts locked away in your own head than divulge them to him.
for as great and divinely chosen as he was in others' eyes, he was a lingering distraction for you. his gaze is etched into your mind, and you find it frightening how much you draw up the vision.
if you're the means, he will always be your end.
"it's not that bad, i've seen you take worse." you try to steady your voice as you speak.
his non-dominant hand finds its way to your bent knee, sending a shock throughout your body, "doesn't mean you have to." you waver slightly at his words, zoning in on the way his lips quirk up at the sentiment.
rolling your eyes, you grab for the bandages and gauze, "i can do the rest myself."
he draws away from you but you can feel him watching you. you can tell he wants to say more— wants to press you further.
you try to ignore the way his presence affects you as you wrap your wound. it's easier that way, to brush him off. maker forbid you ever gave him the notion that you feel the way you do.
if he knew— he'd be on you like ants to honey, all-consuming. anakin was devotional, it was a flaw you enjoyed pointing out to him. you'd mock him for it, calling it the opposite of the jedi way. because it's easier to pick fun at the attribute than to imagine the way it would feel to be at the receiving end of such a trait.
it'd be sacred, surely.
you finish dressing the saber graze and hold tight to the fresh application before grabbing your tunics. it's a painful struggle to put them back on, and you wince at the stretch you have to do to pull them back over your head.
anakin, now leaning against his door, watches you in condemnation, "it wouldn't hurt so much if you just let me help you, y/n."
you make your way toward him, "i'm fine. now, can you let me leave."
he glowers at you, "no."
"what do you mean, no?" your eyes slim.
"i want you to be honest for once," he clenches his jaw before continuing, "i mean, i’m trying to help you, and you act like a brat. what's your problem?"
you stare at him, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you. he is so adept at getting under your skin and making you feel things that are far better left unexplored.
"my problem?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "my problem is that i'm sick and tired of being treated like a child by everyone around here. including you."
anakin's eyes widen in surprise for just a moment before they darken with anger, "i treat you like an equal, you know that." he spits out through gritted teeth.
"you don't!" you exclaim, the dam finally breaking inside of you. "you act like i can't handle anything on my own."
"that's because half the time it seems like-"
"like what?" you interrupt him, taking a step closer despite yourself.
"like…like maybe sometimes," his voice softens as he speaks now—almost pleadingly, "you could use some help."
you take one hand and shove him against the door, fingers digging into his robes, "i don't need your help. i don't need anything from you," you watch him sneer down at you, "and if you want honesty, then the truth is that i'd be far better off without you trailing around me all the time."
he gives an unamused laugh, "you know what i think?"
you don't dignify him with an answer prompting him to go on, "i think you shut down because you're scared," he grabs hold of your wrist, pulling you even closer to him, "i can sense it, you know. every time i see you all that radiates is fear. you're not even strong enough to hide it. what are you so damn afraid of, y/n?”
you pull away from him and shoot daggers before shoving him out of your path and exiting his room.
you rush to your own room, heart thudding in your chest. you attempt to stop yourself from thinking any further on what had just happened. sitting on the edge of your bed, you take deep breaths before burying you face in your hands. he was right—you were scared; scared of opening up and admitting how deeply you've grown to care for him.
he was beautiful, tragically so. and off limits in ways that made your chest feel heavy. you've tried to forget the way he makes you feel for years now. you've tried to tell yourself that what you feel isn't real. it can't be, not when you've sworn an oath against such notions.
yet, he remains a pertinent figure living in the back of your mind. a fantasy you indulge solely in the safety of seclusion.
the evening drags along slowly, and you take note his absence at dinner. his usual seat left empty, causing you to worry for him. it's futile to try and stop the obvious impact he has over you, especially after the fight.
he has a way of sowing himself indelibly to you.
though he remains so obvious in his fruitless kinship for you— you do the contrary. you keep your worries to yourself, and in the times you've been anything other than unemotional to him, you've reacted before thinking more than you care to admit.
you were mean, and even if he'd never know, it did hurt you to act in such a way. especially when all you really want is to see those blue eyes looking down on you with a loving gaze.
you push your food around on your plate, lost in thought, only to have a warm hand on your shoulder.
looking up, you find obi-wan, eyebrows drawn together is deliberation.
you try and push your thoughts away, masking your fears, "yes, master?"
he removes his previous look, replacing it with a soft smile, "y/n, i wanted to make sure you were okay. you took quite a blow today."
you have trouble meeting his eyes, "i'm fine master, just a small cut."
he lets his hand drop, "of course. i hope to see you for meditation tomorrow morning. it just may be of service."
he's gone before you can reply, leaving you alone with your unwanted dinner and thoughts.
hours pass by without you noticing them go. you attempt to train but your practice moves fall short. until, finally, it's late enough that even one of yoda's animated lessons couldn't keep someone from seeking sleep.
you make your way back to your room as fatigue sets in. your senses full of the one thing that refuses to ease its grip over you— anakin.
the exchange with him earlier continues to replay on a loop inside your mind, making it nearly impossible to drift off peacefully. you toss and turn for what feels like hours, restlessly upset.
abruptly, loud knocks echo through your room, interrupting your silent brooding whilst stirring the half slumber you’d found yourself in.
you can sense the familiar force signature, and you know it's anakin pounding away at your door. his energy seems off, less guarded and more haphazard. the feeling of it has you tensing.
nervous, you get out of bed and make your way to the door, still feeling hints of your previous anger and anxiety. you swing it open to find him standing on the other side, breathing heavily as if he had been running.
"what do you want?" you ask, trying your best to keep your voice level.
"i'm sorry," he says simply, not meeting your eyes.
you're taken aback by his apology, not expecting it, "for what?" you ask, confused.
"for the way i've been treating you," he says with a sigh. "i've been so focused on keeping you safe that i haven't been treating you like the equal that you are. and for what i said earlier… i didn't mean it. i just wanted to get a rise out of you."
you stare at him for a moment, trying to process his words. anakin has never been one to apologize easily, and you can sense that this is challenging for him.
slowly, you start to soften towards him, "come in." you say finally, and step aside to let him into your room.
he steps in and closes the door behind him, turning to face you. "i know we fight more often than we get along," he says tentatively. "but i don't want to lose you completely. i miss you. we used to be so... different."
you feel a lump in your throat at his words. despite everything that had happened with him, you know deep down that you don’t want to lose him either. but something is still stopping you from stating your full truth.
"well things are different now," you admit quietly. "we're different."
anakin looks at you, his eyes searching your face for meaning while his mouth forms a thin line. "why?" he asks finally.
you try to find the words but all that comes out is an half-baked excuse, "because that's just what happens, anakin."
"it doesn’t have to…" anakin presses gently and takes a step closer towards you. the heat from him fills up the room making it difficult to think straight let alone answer him honestly. you look away trying to avoid eye contact. with each second that passes by, your denial seems more insufferable.
he seems to notice this and steps even closer so now only inches are between the two of you before asking, "is it because…" his voice catches as he leans in “is it because you can tell how much i care for you. how easily you've become more to me. i tried so hard to hide, y/n, but i can’t anymore.”
you're taken aback by how easily the words leave anakin's lips despite not being able to ever even think of being as honest as him.
but at his admission, something cracks inside of you, allowing you to gain confidence, “no, i never knew you felt—” you falter at the way he's looking you down, face full of anticipation, "i never knew you felt that way. i thought it was only me."
anakin steps even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "never, i've always felt like this," he confesses, his voice low and gravelly. "from the moment i met you. maker, you've had me around your finger for years, i couldn't help but fall for you."
you feel your heart race as his words wash over you, mingled with the warmth of his body so close to yours. you can't deny the attraction that you've always felt— the electricity that seemed to spark whenever your eyes met, the way your skin tingled whenever he brushed past you.
"don't say that, ani," you whisper, feeling a rush, "this isn’t right, it could mean the worst for us, you know that."
anakin takes another step towards you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. "don't be scared, i’m not," he whispers, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm here for you. whatever happens, you know that."
time seems to still as you lean into his touch, getting lost in the heat of the moment despite yourself. you can feel his words through the softness of his touch.
and then suddenly his lips are on your own— fiercely and passionately. all of your warning thoughts fly out of your head as you surrender into him.
in that moment, there is nothing else but the two of you - lost in each other's embrace and finally free to show all the attachment that's been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
but then as quickly as it came, anakin pulls away and apologizes for the sudden kiss, visibly embarrassed by his impulsivity.
he takes a step back from you in an attempt to put some distance between you while he runs a hand through his hair nervously.
"sorry," he says softly, looking anywhere but your eyes, filled with surprise and confusion.
"i shouldn't have done that." he pauses before continuing in something barely more than a whisper this time, “i just… i'm sorry."
you stand there, still in shock from the sudden kiss but unable to deny the fluttering feeling in your heart. you want to tell him that it's okay, that you feel the same way, but you can't find the words.
anakin seems to read your thoughts, his eyes locking onto yours as he steps back once again. "i know this is a lot to take in," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "but i just needed you to know how i feel."
you nod, finally finding your voice. "i…i don't know what to say," you admit, feeling vulnerable and exposed.
for so long you’ve dreaded the idea of anakin knowing how you felt. you’ve been so afraid of rejection, that you’ve never considered the possibility of the inverse happening.
anakin reaches out, taking your hand, sending shivers down your spine with his touch, “you don't have to say anything," he says softly. "just know that i care about you…more than anything."
the two of you stand there for a second longer, lost in each other's eyes and the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
finally, anakin breaks the silence. "i should go," he says reluctantly. "we can talk more about this later if you want…but only if you're ready."
you nod once more, still unsure of what to say or do. as anakin turns to leave, you find yourself calling out to him.
"ani…wait."
he turns back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.
"i care about you too, i'm not afraid of it anymore. i just want you." you whisper, feeling a weight lifted off of your shoulders.
anakin looks at you, a mix of shock and pure elation written on his face. he doesn't say anything, he just walks back towards you, taking your face in his hands before pressing his lips onto yours once again.
this time the kiss is even more intense than before, all of the the passion and desire that you've both kept buried for all these years flaring out. your hands make their way to his chest to you pull him closer to you.
anakin deepens the kiss as he wraps his arms around you, tugging you into an embrace that will no doubt carve itself into your very soul. you can feel the beat of his heart against you, matching the pace of your own rapid heartbeats.
when he finally pulls away, gasping for air, you can't stop the smile spreading on your face.
"i've always wanted this," anakin whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours. "i just didn't know how to tell you."
"i'm glad you did," you reply softly, running your fingers through his hair. "i didn't know how to say either."
the two of you stand there for a few moments longer before anakin finally pulls away. "i should go," he says reluctantly. "i'll see you tomorrow?"
you nod, feeling content and happy for the first time in a long time. as anakin leaves your room, you lay down on your bed with a smile on your face— grateful to be the aspect of his devotion.
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blushweddinggowns · 5 months
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Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff
Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.
He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.
Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.
As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.
It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.
God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.
Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"
"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."
Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"
"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."
"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"
"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"
"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."
"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."
The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."
"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."
"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"
"... maybe?"
"Babe."
"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."
"Is my bitching your bed time story?"
He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"
Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.
And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.
Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.
But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.
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curatoroffiction · 1 year
Text
What You’ve Hidden Part 2
This is a continuation of a story I started writing in response to a post made here. (Which is where you’ll find Part 1 of this story) This is based off of @underqualified-human’s post on their “? Yuu AU” concept, and was really fun to write! I definitely love harassing Crowley. I know I write a lot of anti-Crowley propaganda, but I fuckin’ love his character. He’s such a slimeball and I love it. XD Storytime stops before Idia’s chapter because it hasn’t been released to the English version yet.
----- Story is reader-insert, gender-neutral, and is also a continuation of an existing chunk of story I already wrote. The boys discuss how much they really know the Ramshackle Prefect. That is, until the prefect arrives on the scene and begins to explain themself.
----- The conversation quickly moved from a lighthearted conversation about the Ramshackle prefect to a cautious journey embarking through the group's delicate notions of trust.
"I don't buy it - ___ can't lie. They're too honest." Ruggie shrugs. He's never seen you lie in a way that mattered. You were always so straightforward with him and everyone else in Savannaclaw, even when it probably would've benefitted you to lie. "They're not a goody two-shoes, but they sure aren't about to pull off a scheme."
Jamil on the other hand is now rethinking everything he knows about you. "On the contrary, I've found them to be quite.. Crafty, when they needed to be." He shakes his head thinking back to how you so easily would sneak out of containment prior to his overblot. How you could escape and even collect help. He starts connecting the dots on how you always seem to know just where to look or who to talk to in order to collect help. One could say it's fate, but it was hard for him to believe in fate after meeting you.
"... They *are* capable of lying.. Lying well, at that.." Riddle murmurs, not comfortable with the conversation's route, but incapable of stopping himself from treading into these waters as people talk more about it. "When Ace and Deuce want something kept hidden, they're very good at hiding things from people." His brow furrows as he thinks on the last dorm inspection.
"Well that at least tells us they're loyal to their friends!" Kalim smiles big, refusing to fret. "And that's all I need to know to enjoy their company."
"Are they loyal to their friends? Or are they just loyal to their resources?" Azul once again steers the conversation into the depths.
"Friends! If they were just looking for power, they wouldn't have helped Ace and Deuce when they got in trouble with you, right?" Kalim cocks his head to the side, looking to Azul with genuine confusion. It wasn't hard to imagine what motivated you in his eyes.
"Mmm.. I'm not so sure about that." Jade starts delving into this thought exercise. "Through those two, ___ got a chance to interact with Riddle, which dragged him into their scuffle with Leona - Which was the primary reason it wasn't a disaster. Leona helped with Azul, Azul helped with Jamil, Jamil helped with Vil, and so on..." Many of the dormleaders had never heard of the intertwining threads of their interactions with the prefect, or how perfectly it all seemed to meld together.
This starts to garner some genuine concern, causing even Malleus and Kalim to think on the coincidental nature. It's a little too perfect.
The guys are quiet as they feel themselves consumed with the idea that you might actually be a complete stranger. Someone who has come so close to them all, snaking your way in with ulterior motives. However, they each process the concept very differently.
Riddle just flat out refuses to believe it. He thinks Azul's being paranoid and that you'd have no real reason to lie to him. And even if his overblot put you off from him, you'd have no real reason to lie to Ace and Deuce. No, Azul's the one being paranoid here, and he won't get dragged down with it.
Trey feels like it's a nonsense consideration. Even if you weren't genuine when you first met everyone here, you surely warmed up with time - Isn't that just how being a social person works? No one puts all their cards out on the table without reason. He's got no reason to doubt you.
Leona on the other hand, lets his mind dance on the edge of the idea. He'd seen firsthand how you can change your tune if you need or want to. You're not above forcing people's hands, but.. You also don't really subscribe to the "Work smarter not harder" mantra that it really takes to scheme. You put too much effort into the things you do to be someone who isn't, on some level, genuine. Still, he underestimated you once, and doesn't make mistakes like that twice.
Ruggie on the other OTHER hand figures there's no reason to worry. Hell, he's fake as hell when he wants to be. As far as he's concerned, everyone's got a grift, and it'd be nice to hear you had one too. Even if your friendship was founded on a lie, he doesn't care. You've never treated him like he owed you, and you saved his life from Leona lashing out at him. As far as he's concerned, that makes you someone worthy of respect at the least.
Jade himself doesn't really care either which way. He likes you and is amused by you, but whether you value him as a friend or not matters very little to him. If he wants to deal with you, he will. He doesn't need an invitation or prior rapport. Still, he likes to think he knows you well. Even if he doesn't know your real name, he knows how to poke and prod you to get desired responses, and at the end of the day, isn't that enough?
Kalim's bothered by the prospect. He shakes his head outright refusing to even consider a world where you were disingenuous. Still, his mind thinks on Jamil. Someone he's held dear to his heart since he was a very young child was able to fool him and use him and control him. ... He doesn't like the idea that there could be secrets you keep from him. Still, if you do have secrets, maybe there's a good reason for it. Maybe you're afraid? Or you just need a safe place to open up? Maybe he just needs to be a better friend.
Jamil furrows his brow in thought. He'd overlooked you once, only to be surprised, and much like Leona, he doesn't make that mistake twice. But unlike Leona, he has to care as far as Kalim's wellbeing is concerned. He doesn't think you'd ever do anything to hurt Kalim, considering you once tracked him down to give him treasure that Kalim tried to sneak to you. If you were in it for the money, you'd have never done that. Plus, there were plenty of times that you could have hurt Kalim by now and you didn't. If you were some kind of physical threat, you'd have struck by now. But if it's a power grab, what kind of power triumphs over money?
Vil's not intensely bothered by the idea of you using every tool in your arsenal to collect strength. If you really were so quietly calculated, it'd be something to applaude. A fake smile here, a warm grin there, you're bound to make useful connections. It's no surprise to him that you were able to make useful connections that echoed forward. He finds himself annoyed with Azul's persistence on the matter, figuring that Azul himself has been bothered by this and is now trying to make it everyone else's problem. People often try to project their insecurities onto the people around them.
Rook on the other hand is delighted at the prospect. If you suddenly showed yourself to have a side that even he couldn't see coming, what a rush that would give! Maybe he should poke and prod you more. Maybe he needs to test the waters and see what really makes you tick? People often let the most real facets of themselves surface under pressure..
Idia already had like 20 fears centered around dealing with people going into this conversation - Most of which had to do with them lying to him already. This machiavelean web of social warfare that Azul is painting just gives him a headache. It's like when the business man thinks he's onto something in boardgame club and just won't relent. Idia may not have a high social self esteem, but he knows Azul well enough to not let this get under his skin. At least, that's what he tells himself. It's hard to not be bothered by the idea, but he won't get taken for one of Azul's wild rides.
Ortho's only bothered by this line of conversation because it implies that you could lie in a way that tricks his censors - And that just isn't like you at all! But any attempt to protect your good name is just met with Azul shrugging and saying 'Anything is possible, I suppose.'
Malleus is the only one who is really torn asunder by this conversation. At first, he was offended that anyone could think that way about you, being your fiercest protector in the matter, but then it hit him that you've always been a bit weird. You've never been scared of him - Was that an act? How could he ever really know? He knew he wasn't just a means to an end, but he had no clue if you befriended him genuinely or not. Did you really not know who he was when you met? Or was that a ploy? Whatever the case could be, he's gutted at the idea that you could be anything less than a friend.
Lilia isn't bothered by the idea. He pretends to be someone he isn't all the time. It's good fun! Even people who've spent their lives hiding their true selves in favor of a false self give away truths. He is, however, bothered by the dark look on Malleus' face coupled by the thunder of the rolling clouds outside. "I mean, everyone has something to hide, don't they, Azul?" His tone is more pointed, as though he'd uncover Azul's secrets for all to see if he answers incorrectly.
A shiver runs down Azul's spine at Lilia's sharper gaze, surprising him with the reaction. ".... Yes, but when someone knows all of our secrets, shouldn't we get to know at least SOME of their's?" He looks to the others to back him up, but isn't getting much help.
He can't be the only one bothered by this, right?
---
The group is deep in thought when you arrive. You step into the room and all eyes are on you. Grim gulps from your shoulder, looking at all the staring eyes. Even he can't ignore the palpable energy of the room. ".. Did we miss somethin'?" He asks tentatively.
Azul takes the lead, snaking his way beside you with a big smile. "Of course not! We were just discussing how we don't seem to know anything about you, ___. Tell us about yourself?"
You take a glance around the room, which seems to confirm Azul's claim that the room is waiting for you to talk about yourself. "...." You blink. ".. What do you wanna know?"
"Well, your name, where's it come from? What's it mean? Tell us about it."
Your eyes narrow as you look at the businessman, who laughs off your suspicions. With Azul, there's always an angle. They must've had a bet about your name. Your eyes relax as you look around the room of your friends. Riddle looks annoyed with the octopus man. Trey gives a quiet shrug like 'I dunno why this guy is being weird'. Leona looks more annoyed with Azul than he does with you, but Ruggie seems interested in hearing you explain your answer. Azul is frevently awaiting an answer, Jade making his biggest creepiest smile to the side as his eyes won't budge from you. Kalim looks somewhere between distressed and excited. Jamil looks like he's trying his hardest to look indifferent, but you know by the way he glances at you that he's invested in your answer.
Vil actually moves to shoo Azul away from your shoulder as he takes over the conversation. "Azul's been 'kind' enough to express that we don't know much about you or where you came from. You came here so abruptly, and you had so little to your name in ways of protection. It's still an amazing mystery to us as to how you adapted so well." Quite the improv actor, Vil smoothly transitions you into the conversation with the grace of a socialite. While he's not bothered by the idea of you being cunning and cutthroat, he IS bothered by the idea that Azul might slip up and make it appear as though the entire group is worried. Besides, any chance to get to know you better is a gift.
Rook smiles delightedly as Vil takes over. If there's anything you're hiding, they'll surely be able to sense it. "Ah yes, Trickster, you fascinate with how otherworldly you are! Please tell us more about yourself. How DID you acclimate so well?"
Idia feels sick to his stomach. More social nonsense is piling up. And on the one day Ortho convinced him to come in-person to one of these meetings. He can't just check out and play a game as things are heating up, so he's stuck just looking visually awkward and avoiding your gaze. Ortho looks determined, but happy to see you. He waved when you first came in, which signaled everyone that you were there in the first place. Now that things are getting weird, he's just excited to have a chance to monitor your vitals while you're under questioning, so he can prove to the others that you're not lying.
If you're lying, he'll know.
Malleus looks like he's stuck in his own head and upset over something. Deep in thought - When he finally looks to you, his eyes melt a little and the storm temporarily relaxes. Lilia's more concerned with how strong Malleus' reaction to this than whatever you could possibly hide from them. He does find it amusing that he could scare Azul with just a judgemental glance though, and files that away as something fun to do if the young octopus man's antics cause Malleus or you grief. He's got thousands of years of judgemental dad looks stashed away for such an occasion.
"Well, uh.." You're not sure what question to answer, so you just answer Vil's because he's less creepy about it. "I just did what I could to survive. I'm as surprised as anyone that I've been able to last this long." And it's true - Everything you've done has been on the fly. Ever since arriving in Wonderland, you've found yourself in increasingly strange circumstances. You shrug, sorry that you don't have a better answer.
"But surely, you must have had something - Skills you've relied on, plans you've laid out. Things that helped you survive through the messes you've encountered?" This time, it's Rook speaking up, trying to coax more out of you.
"Not really, no. I showed up and had a flaming monster thrown at me, I held him up by the scruff of his neck and Crowley dubbed me as his handler. I was given a job as a janitor, and I'd have done it just fine, but Grim wasn't having it and threw a fit. We got in trouble for it and got a bigger workload with Ace. Then he dragged Deuce into the mess and we all got expelled.." You recount your first week here at Night Raven College.
No one ever really heard the story of what happened when you got here before.
You were a janitor? Crowley didn't let you be a student? But you came through the mirror! You couldn't even go home! The frustration of the fear that you're anything but genuine slowly bubbles away as they begin to find themselves annoyed with Crowley and his handling of the situation.
"If I got expelled, Crowley was gonna throw me out, and I had nothing, so I had to do what he told me to in order to stick around. We went to the mines, fought an overblot monster that seemed ancient, and got a magestone to replace the one we broke. From there, I was pretty ride or die for Ace and Deuce." You shrug.
Azul isn't having it though. "That explains why you got involved when they had trouble with Riddle, by why did you get involved when Savanaclaw was scheming?" He won't forget that you've somehow endeared everyone here to you.
"Crowley showed up at my door and told me to figure out why students were getting hurt. When I told him 'Nah', he blackmailed me with my food budget."
The room's stunned to silence.
".... Crowley.. *blackmailed* you?" Riddle's the first to speak up, and he's appalled and pissed. That whole ordeal was incredibly dangerous! He knew Crowley was slimy from time to time, but you didn't even have magic! That goes against several regulations!
"With your food budget no less.." Trey looks disturbed. Ruggie's big grin from earlier is gone.
You shrugged once again, desensitized to the idea. "I didn't want to get involved, but then I had to."
None of them can sense a lie off of you, but they're all listening attentively. They need to know more. How do the threads of fate connect you to them?
"What about after that? You didn't really need to help Ace and Deuce when Azul's plans came to fruition." Jade now speaks up, curious. "Surely, if you were scraping to survive at that point, it would have been easier to just ignore and let them fall to their own stupidity. It would even be a great lesson for them, yes?"
"I wasn't gonna get involved that time either - You're right, they deserved a lesson. Even Grim got in trouble there, but I was so tired at that point."
"So what happened??" Kalim asks eagerly, moving closer to listen, like his ears can't hear you if he can't see you well enough.
"Crowley again. Said faculty couldn't get involved because Azul wasn't technically breaking any rules, and he needed the problem fixed. Once again, I told him no and he threatened my housing security."
Malleus' eyes narrow. The storm outside is slowly building again, but this time for a very different reason. Azul feels sheepish. At every turn, you were being threatened and forced into involving yourself in the lives of the other students. So then why were you still so friendly? Ortho's eyes have gotten frustrated at the idea of what you're telling them. He's visibly upset. Rook is stone silent as you have every ounce of his attention.
"And with Jamil..?" Ruggie jabs a thumb in the direction of the long-haired boy from the sands.
"Crowley told me I had to keep the school's heating running while everyone was away, and I barely was able to remind him to get me food for the winter break. Even then, he held it as a reward I had to earn. He gave me a cellphone in case there was an emergency, but the damn thing was on the worst possible plan, and he never picked up when I called him. Kalim invited us to the dorm for a feast, and Grim and I were so hungry that I decided to let him treat us. When we got there, we got roped into everything.."
"But you escaped. You could have just stayed away at that point." Jamil finally speaks up, remembering the events. He's embarrassed by his actions, but he needs to know why you came back.
You throw a thumb towards Azul. "Yeah, but I only escaped because I accidentally flew the magic carpet into Octavinelle, and Azul made me take him back because he had his own agenda. I didn't wanna be indebted to him for the damage the carpet did, and I didn't trust him enough to return the carpet safely, so I begrudgingly obliged and got roped into bullshit again."
Azul looks embarrassed as once again the attention's all on him. This conversation is more exposing him for his shady bullshit than you for yours.
Luckily, he's saved by Vil speaking up once again; "With my.. incident - You were pushed into it by Crowley again, yes?"
"Yeah. Your troupe needed a place to stay, and my dorm was the only one equipped for it. I wanted to stay as far out of your way as possible, but it was kind of impossible when I was named as the manager and you knew where I slept. You whipped everyone into shape, and even pushed me to do my best, lest I find my snacks.. uh.."
"Tampered with as punishment." Jamil nods, remembering the spell Vil had been using. You were in a tough situation, and once again you made the call that allowed you your best chance of survival.
---
Before you can explain anything further, a familiar voice can be heard.
---
"Hello my gracious students! Thank you all for coming to this meeting!" Crowley has finally arrived. Half an hour late. He opens his eyes from his delight to find several people staring at him with malice. He blinks and gulps down his nerves. "... I seem to have missed something." ----- If you like stories like this, check out the rest of my collection in my Masterlist on my profile, or check out my stuff on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuratorOfFiction
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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months
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Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind
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Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Fandom: Enola Holmes series
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.
Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie
A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist 
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You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house. 
Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week. 
You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.
You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.
In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.
You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.
More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him. 
Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.
It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts. 
So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him? 
You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting. 
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You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.
As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?” 
“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes…but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.
“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.
So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.
What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.
Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.
In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 
His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.
His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.
You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.
“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.
“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”
Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace. 
Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.
Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.
“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel…”
“This pretty pussy belongs to me now…”
“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you…”
“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you…”
“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good…for me. Fuck, so close!”
“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words. 
Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release. 
And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.
Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.
He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.
You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.
You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.
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A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.
A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.
**Tag List**
@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67
@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102
Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁
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ottoslab · 1 year
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here’s a fun fact! My psychonauts timeskip au is over a year old as of March 28th! How wild is that!
This wasn’t really made to commemorate that, though the timeline works out pretty well! I just had to strong urge to see if I could get all of my camper designs in a lineup without fretting too much over poses and details and stuff. The answer was apparently yes! My bones hurt! This was so many characters!
had to stop myself from going too far otherwise I was never going to get this posted, but I did do a little collage-ish sketch of whereabouts they all end up in the future
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Ok! Ok! Thank you. I’m going to go try and make sure I don’t draw for at least 24 hours to give my hands a rest
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cozage · 8 months
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Hello!
Firstly, I love your work ❤️❤️
Secondly, I saw your 2k follower milestone post.
Could you do Trafalgar Law as a girl dad? Like with a black wife (I'm black and I want this man so bad lol)
Maybe with him finding out she's pregnant, then finding out it's a girl. Just how he'd take the news and how he'd treat their daughter.
And, if you have the time, maybe when she's older and wants to date somebody. Idk I feel like he's a protective loving father 🥲🥲
A/N: I could go on and on about Trafalgar Law as a Girl Dad. He was made to have a daughter.  Characters: female reader x Law Cw: some talk about infertility and diseases, little bit of angst. Total word count:770
Girl Dad
Trafalgar Law was not expecting a positive pregnancy test. All signs had pointed he was infertile, a result of Amber Lead Sickness he had as a child. 
Even despite that prognosis and you all being careful, the test in front of him was positive. He was going to be a father. 
A part of him was ecstatic. The two of you had talked about kids before, through adoption or other options. But this child growing inside your womb was his child, made of DNA from him and his favorite person in the whole world. 
He spirals a few times, alone in his office. What if the baby had Amber Lead Poisoning? What is the life expectancy of a child in this generation? What if the child spreads the disease to you and you get sick? Some nights he can’t sleep; he’s just up thinking about What-ifs.
He frets over everything during your pregnancy. If your BPM or heart rate is even slightly elevated, if your bloodwork is just slightly off, he starts to worry. He runs test after test, just to make sure everything is okay
Even things like the way the nursery room is set up stresses him out. If the bed is too big or if the blankets will be a problem, the risk of certain paints or old furniture. This man has studied so many medical diseases that he’s paranoid about anything and everything.
At week twenty he’s running a weekly scan and finds out it’s a girl. He breaks down in tears, thinking of his mother and his sister. He wished they could be here to celebrate with you all. But it’s only the two of you in his little doctor's office. 
He wanted to find a more fun way to tell you the news, but his tears of joy tell you everything you need to know. Of course it’s a girl. You always knew he would make the best father for a little girl. 
When she’s finally brought into the world, Law cannot stop staring at her. She has your skin and his eyes, and you’ve never seen a more beautiful combination for a human being.
Sometimes you’ll wake up in the middle of the night just to find Law holding her while she sleeps, completely transfixed on her. He’s always smiling like an idiot, just watching her sleep.
He is always whispering in her ear, telling her how much he loves her and how special she is. She grows up constantly hearing how much she is loved by everyone on the ship. 
As she gets older, Law has a hard time saying no to her. She wants that cute princess dress? Of course she can have it. You’ve never seen this man bend his will so easily to another human. But he'd give her the moon if she asked.
He will dress up in tiaras and have tea parties. Everyone on the ship will! Sometimes you’ll be walking around and it will be strangely quiet, and you just know you’re little princess has gotten those boys doing her bidding in some way or another. 
He sets up a little desk for her in his office when she turns three, and you are BAFFLED. The man never lets anyone in his office! And now your daughter has a DESK in there, full of crayons and coloring books and journals.
She has a knack for medicine too and loves to make her own “potions” (aka dyed water. Law isn’t THAT crazy) in the lab. He starts teaching her how to use pipettes and measure out liquids. Once she turns 8, he shows her how to run tests and read medical data. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 
On the ship, she has full reign. Whatever she wants to do, she’s welcome to do it. Law only ever raises his voice at her when she’s in danger or when he’s scared. 
On island visits, it’s a little bit different. He doesn’t like her to leave his side, even as she creeps into her teenage and young adult years. 
He has a really hard time letting her have her freedom. He knows what kind of people wait around the corner of islands on the Grand Line, eager to get a girl of her stature and her beauty. He’s trained her how to fight, but he’s still desperate to protect her from the world.
It’s hard sometimes, having a husband who loves so deeply and wants to protect so much. You often have to be the mediator, reminding Law to be gentle and reminding your daughter that he just wants to protect her. 
But you’re a family, and you always love each other and forgive each other. It’s not always perfect, but you would never trade it, and neither would Law.
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harleehazbinfics · 3 months
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Home is where my Heart is.
Chapter 3: The First Time Table of Contents | Profile
Word Count: 1100+ Warning: implied rape and abuse A/N: idk i feel weird that he's kinda ooc; tbf he is very different here in this ff BUT LISTEN crazy meets sweet, ITS KINDA CUTE also also, imma take a break and continue my devout!reader ff, you can check it out here. thanky!
mmmmm i changed so much dialogue i wonder how this'll go. (edited as of Feb 20)
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It had been quite a few months after Alastor and I have started going out. Nothing drastically different happened when we were still friends then transitioning to lovers.
Both of us would mind our own business, however, that didn’t really mean that we weren’t thinking about each other. If Alastor went on radio, I would listen to him while doing mundane chores, listening to his voice through the vintage filter of the stereo, I'd even retort to his witty commentary as if he was in the room with me. While, I would be out doing shows across the city, ranging from clubs and cafes to the early television programs.
Today was one of those days, where I would be waiting for Alastor to pick me up after performing a show, as he promised to bring me out to drink for our date. I stood at a lamp post waiting for him, looking down at my shadow.
“Well, look who it is. Lil’ Mel out in town?” a raspy voice said to me, “Must be nice to finally get out of that orphanage, huh? How’ve you been liking it so far? Missed me?”
Hearing this familiar insistent voice sent shivers down my spine, having flashbacks of my days in the orphanage. I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Go away, Aidan. I don’t want to talk to you,” I announced, fear creeping up on me.
“Oh, don’t be like that, babe!” he said putting his hand on my shoulder, “Don’t you remember all our fun times?”
I wriggled out of his grasp and angrily answered, “Fun? Hah, you’re insane. And never call me babe! Goodbye.”
I tightened my grasp on my sling bag and briskly walked away, looking for a more crowded area. But I never got too far when he suddenly had my arm in a tight grip making me squeal in pain. He covered my mouth with his other hand hushing me, and placing his knee between my legs. This scenario was all too familiar that tears welled up in my eyes automatically, but I gathered all my courage tensing my body and biting his hand, frustration clear on my face.
Meanwhile, Alastor was already a few buildings close to your arranged meeting place when he stopped when he heard a familiar voice.
“I told you to let go of me!”
This shout reaches his ears following a thud, fearing the worst he then bolts toward Miledy’s direction.
“Miledy!” he yells however freezes when he sees a man looming over her with a metal pipe in his hands.
“AL!” she screamed scared out of her wits.
Without a second thought, he lunges at the man throwing the both of them to the side leaving me on the floor. I looked at Alastor in fear for him when I saw him struggling to wrestle the larger man off of him.
“STOP! GET OFF HIM!”
Aidan seemed to falter when he heard me, creating an opening for Alastor and managing to stab him through his chest. Aidan gathered the last of his strength to wrap his hand around Alastor’s neck. I panicked and grabbed the forgotten pipe and bashed him over the head, making him go limp on top of Al.
Alastor moved the body to the side and with a relieved look on his face, he moves forwards and pulls me in a tight hug.
“I was so scared. Did you get hurt?” he frets over me.
“You’re not scared of me? I just killed a-a person, Al,” I asked afraid of his reaction.
“Heavens no! I’m more relieved you’re not hurt,” he replied letting go of the hug and placing his hand to the side of my face.
Relieved that Alastor didn’t leave her despite her sins, she finally broke down as she recounted the traumatic events that had happened, including the times where she comforted herself to sleep crying after Aidan was done playing with her, causing all these bottled up grievances to burst out. While Alastor did his best to comfort her in an embrace.
“We should probably leave now. It won’t take long before someone calls the police,” he explained holding on to her shoulder. I only nodded my head shakily still rattled and followed his lead.
He covered the body and lifted it over his shoulder keeping it steady while his free grabbed my hand and ran far far away. We eventually ended in a forest where we buried the body. I wiped the sweat off my brow breathing deeply from all the extraneous activities. After that was all done, Alastor led me to a cabin outside the hunting grounds.
“Where are we?” I asked while looking at the old furniture and the floorboards that creaked.
“My house,” he stated simply offering me a glass of water. I took and drank all of it without a second thought making Alastor tug a very subtle smile on his lips at how she completely trusted him.
“Al, we just killed a man and buried him. What if they figure out that we did it? What will happen to us?” I ramble, face going pale from different scenarios going through my mind.
He kneels in front of me a frown adorning his face when he saw how distraught I was and replied, “I’ll never let them hurt you. I promise, they will never know.”
“What about you, Al! What if they take you away from me. I don’t want to be separated from you!” I yelled hoping he’d care about his own well-being.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said reading through me and holding my face in his hands, “I’ll never ever leave you, not if I can’t help it.”
My eyebrows furrowed still unconvinced, “How can you be so sure?”
His eyebrows drooped and a wry smile takes place while putting his hands on my knees obediently, “I’ve been hiding from them for years now. They haven’t had any idea that it was me. Knowing a lot of people surely has its perks.” I looked at him confused. “The first person killed was when I was 16, on the day that my mother died, and I’ve been running ever since.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you. But I never wanted you to be involved in this dirty past of mine,” he apologizes. “But I swear on my life that I never had any bad intention towards you. All I want is for you to be safe and free from worry.”
It took a very long time before one of us did or said anything. I took his hand, stood up and walked him towards the balcony that we walked past getting here. And just watched as the sun slowly rose hand in hand.
“I guess this is how we live for the rest of our lives now,” I uttered just above a whisper to the wind.
“I’ll protect you. No matter what.”
“Me too. You can depend on me… I love you, Al.”
“Thank you, Miledy.”
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