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#i could barely sleep last night thinking about all of this lmao
chelseeebe · 2 months
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just a taste
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18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
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eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 
“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 
“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 
“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 
“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
“now?” 
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 
eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 
“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 
-
eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 
“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 
two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 
not if you were sleeping in his bed. 
it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 
“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 
“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 
“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 
“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 
-
when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 
tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 
and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 
you land on edward scissorhands. 
not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 
in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 
he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 
“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 
he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 
unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 
it’s torturous. 
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 
so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 
though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 
eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 
“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 
“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 
“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 
“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 
there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 
“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 
eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 
“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 
“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 
you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 
“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 
“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 
“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 
if only she knew. 
eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 
-
eddie can’t take it anymore. 
he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 
but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 
he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 
“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 
robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 
he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 
“you want some help with that?” 
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 
it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 
“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 
eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 
“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 
you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 
eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 
it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 
“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  
“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
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juniperskye · 6 days
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That’ll Show Them.
Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!
Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 3569
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.
Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.
“I heard he works for the FBI!”
“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”
“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”
“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”
“Did you see his hands?”
“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”
They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.
Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.
You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.
Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.
It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.
“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”
“What a sad way to get his attention.”
“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”
“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”
This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.
“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.
“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.
“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.
“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.
“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.
“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.
“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.
So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.
Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.
You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.
A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?
Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?
A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?
Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?
A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.
Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!
A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.
The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.
“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”
“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.
“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.
“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.
“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.
“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.
Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.
After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.
When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.
“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.
“Coming mom!” Millie called.
You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.
“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.
“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.
“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”
“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.
Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.
Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.
“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”
“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.
“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”
Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”
“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.
It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.
“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”
He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.
“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.
“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.
A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?
Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”
“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”
“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”
“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”
“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”
With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.
Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.
You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.
Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.
The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.
“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.
“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.
“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”
“Dad!”
Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.
“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”
Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.
“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.
“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.
“Don’t you like him?”
“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”
“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.
“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.
“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.
“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”
“Okay.”
That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.
Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.
Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.
You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.
“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.
“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.
“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.
“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”
“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.
Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.
“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.
“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”
“Yes! Of course!”
Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.
“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.
Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”
“I can do that!”
You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”
“Will you eventually be my mom then?”
“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.
“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.
Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.
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queenofwands89 · 2 months
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Stolen Hearts and Cuddles
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader
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Summary: While cuddling, Jake tells Y/N that she made him believe in love at first sight.
Warning: Tooth rotting fluff.
Notes: Hello, this is my first Jake fic. I just watched twisters with my family last week, and it got me back in my Glen Powell feels (Always been down bad for him the movie just reignited that spark lmao), so yeah I hope you enjoy byeeee.
The sun has set, and the soft glow from the table lamp casts a warm, cozy light across the living room. You’re nestled together on the plush leather couch, your head resting on Jake's chest as you listen to the gentle hum of the city outside your window. The faint aroma of popcorn lingers in the air, remnants of your impromptu movie night.
Jake's arm is draped protectively around you, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your shoulder. You find solace in these moments – the simplicity of being close to him, away from the chaos of the naval base and the pressure of his duties as a aviator.
“Y’know,” Jake's voice breaks the comfortable silence, a confident lilt even in his softer moments, “I used to think love at first sight was just a myth. A fairytale people tell themselves to make life seem a little more magical.”
Tilting your head slightly, you look up at him, your curious eyes meeting his green, mischievous yet earnest gaze. “Oh really?” you tease, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “The great Lieutenant Jake Seresin, charmer extraordinaire, didn’t believe in love?”
A chuckle rumbles from his chest, making you vibrate with the sound. “Hard to believe, huh?” he smirks. “But yeah, I was always about the next mission, the next challenge. Love seemed like a distraction.”
Your fingers play with the hem of his navy blue T-shirt, your touch sending electric shivers down his spine. “So, what changed?” you ask softly, genuinely intrigued.
Jake’s expression softens, the cockiness melting away to reveal the depth of his feelings. He gently cups your face with his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You,” he says simply. “You changed everything.”
Your heart flutters at his words, and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your skin. “How?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
Jake’s eyes lock with yours, reflecting a sincerity that’s often hidden behind his confident exterior. “The first time I saw you, it felt like someone had flipped a switch inside me. Suddenly, life wasn't just about flying high and chasing adrenaline. It was about finding a way to keep you by my side, to protect you, to love you.”
He takes a deep breath, as if steadying himself to say something deeply personal. “You didn’t just capture my attention, Y/N. You stole my heart. Completely and irrevocably. And for the first time, I realized that love isn’t a distraction. It’s what makes all the risks worth taking.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your emotions welling up at his heartfelt confession. “Jake…” you begin, but he gently hushes you, his gaze soft yet intense.
“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re my everything. My whole world. The one I’d sacrifice everything for,” he continues, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss. Each touch, each breath seems to reaffirm your bond, a silent promise of the future you will build together.
When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your heart racing. “I love you, Jake. More than words can say.”
“I love you more baby,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur in the intimate space you share. “More than you could ever know.”
You settle back into his comfortable embrace, the weight of the world outside disappearing as you lose yourself in each other. In that moment, in the safety of your love, you find a tranquility you have never known before.
As you drift off to sleep, the world outside continues to spin, but for you and Jake, your universe is right there on that couch – wrapped in each other's arms, in a cocoon of stolen hearts and unyielding love.
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castiwls · 5 months
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confessions - d.w
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Paring; dean x reader
Prompt; Confessing your love while drunk is all well and good until that drink wears off. (pt2 for drunken confessions)
Requested; @nix-rose
Notes;tysm for the request sorry this took so long lmao <3
Masterlist | pt1
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Taking a sip from the mug you continued staring forward. You’d barely slept the night before, your mind had been going a mile a minute ever since you’d managed to get Dean into his room and convinced him to sleep.
So far you’d spent most of your time thinking over what you could possibly say to him whenever he emerged from his room. The weight of ruining your friendship lay heavy over you, while he’d claimed to be in love you had no way to know if he was telling the truth.
You’d known Dean long enough to know that when he got drunk enough his emotions came pouring out in strange ways. Sometimes he’d bottle up and refuse to say anything, he’d use the drink to dull the pain yet sometimes he went in the completely other direction. And last night seemed that he’d been pretty open and willing to talk about things such as how he felt.
Though you knew that the chances of him even remembering coming home last night were low.
Letting out a small sigh you placed the mug down on the table before looking to the door for a moment. The sound of footsteps caught your attention as you watched the doorway. As they grew closer the sound of a small groan echoed off the walls. Your lips quirked up slightly at the sound.
“Morning.” Dean paused in the doorway rubbing a hand over his eyes. His gaze fell onto you and he tensed for a moment before clearing his throat. Slowly he took a seat opposite you, his eyes falling on your mug. 
Wordlessly you pushed it over to him earning a small smile in thanks. He took a long sip before placing the mug down and staring at it. “How’s your head?” You placed your hands on the table in front of you looking at him expectantly. Dean looked up a small frown on his lips. “Sore.” 
You were both quiet for a moment as he quickly finished the drink. His shoulders seemed to tense the longer you both sat in silence. 
“Look, I’m not gonna dig into you about the whole getting drunk and not getting supplies,” Dean visibly relaxed at your words, part of him had expected you to chew him out the minute he’d walked into the kitchen yet you hadn't. Something which had left him feeling slightly on edge. “But we do need to talk about something.” A pit of anxiety was quickly forming in your stomach as you watched him tense again.
Taking a breath to calm your nerves you caught his gaze. “Do you…do you remember what you said last night?” Dean’s breath hitched slightly as he pushed the empty mug away. He kept your gaze as you began to nervously fiddle with your hands at his continued silence.
He pursed his lips for a moment before he closed his eyes. “I told you.” A small laugh left his lips as he leaned back in his chair running a hand down his face. “I…what did I say.” He stared at you expectantly as he bit down on his lip. He wasn’t one for sharing his feelings and the idea that he’d drunkenly blurted them out made him feel slightly sick.
The idea of being completely vulnerable with someone normally left him feeling on edge but the idea of being drunk and doing it freaked him out endlessly. 
“Not much.” You assured him. “You just…just confessed your love.” You watched as Dean’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded slowly. He thought for a moment allowing the initial shock he felt to dissipate. 
“How do you feel about it? About what I said?” His face stayed neutral but you could see the small glimmer of hope in his eyes. A small laugh left your lips, he was trying to skate around it. You’d seen him do this before, he wasn’t going to admit anything until you did. 
“That depends. Did you mean it?” 
You watched with bated breath as he was silent for a moment. You knew this could make or break your whole friendship with him. Dean Winchester was not someone who enjoyed being vulnerable, but if he really meant it then surely he could be vulnerable around you.
“I did. Hell, I really wish you hadn’t found out this way. But I really meant it.” 
He watched you closely for a moment before reaching for one of your hands. “Sweetheart, please don’t leave me hanging here.” He chucked nervously. “Maybe drunk you is braver than both of us.” You smiled squeezing his hand. You felt him squeeze your hand back a smile of his own growing on his lips.
“I’ve felt the same since we met.” Finally being able to admit it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest almost. You’d carried around these feelings for so long that you’d accepted the fact that nothing would ever come of them yet here you were.
Dean’s grin seemed to grow at your confession. “So me getting drunk paid off then.” He joked watching as you quietly laughed as well.
“I guess it did.” You nodded. “We still need to talk about that though.” 
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beforeimdeceased · 11 months
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CRYBABY - (E.W) PT5
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pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: who the fuck is abby?
a/n: noo don’t do this ellie look at me :( this isn’t you 🥺 LMAO! what do you guys think is going to happened next omg…
if i told you that i hated you, would you go away?
masterlist.
you ubered yourself to another hotel and payed to stay there for the night. letting jesse and dina know, but ofcourse, not awarding ellie with that information. in truth, she was fucking sweating bullets. could barely sleep last night with you on her mind.
she’s mean, you know that. everybody does. she can be intense, brass, and brutally honest. but, the brutality had gone from drunk cursing out strangers to using you as a punching bag. you were far too sensitive for any of that shit. you overthink too much, cry too often. if she wasn’t going to change then this was your last straw.
as you wake up and ready yourself to gather your things, you notice a string of texts from ellie. all desperate and eager. nothing along the lines of “i’m sorry”. nothing close to an apology. she begged to see you before their last show in the state, knowing you’d be going back home after. and staying there.
you’d calmed down enough to know you could face her. collecting the things you’d brought with you and hyping yourself up in the mirror before leaving. “you got this. you’re not gonna cry today.”
when you arrived at your hotel room, the door was cracked open. you’d caught wind that dina and jesse had gone out for breakfast so it was just you and ellie.
sadly enough, when you opened the door, ellie looked like a wounded puppy. eyes glossy while her face is twisted into a frown. you cross your arms. “morning.”
she looks excited to see you, getting up from her seat on the couch to greet you. “morning, can we talk?”
your heart is pinging. you feel so many emotions for her, some you cannot name. you nod your head and walk over to where she’d been sitting, and take a seat. she trails behind you, placing herself just inches away.
“i’m sorry.” she starts, eyes sympathetically looking into your very own. when your gaze starts to falter she reaches out to hold your hands and catch your attention. “really truly. i’m sorry for everything. for the song, for calling you up onstage, for all the shitty things i do to you and say about you. for pissing you off so bad that you felt like punching me, because i know you’re nowhere near violent.” she takes a breath. “i’m really sorry.”
you sit with her apology, soaking it all in. you can tell it’s genuine because, as far as you’re concerned, she’s never apologized for anything and seriously meant it. but she means it now, with every beat of her heart.
“i hate that i ruined this trip for you. are you still coming to our last show? i’ll apologize publicly in front of all the cameras. i’ll tell them i lied about the song.”
“it’s okay ellie. calm down.” you’d never seen her this frantic. this weak. “i’m still coming to the show. thank you for apologizing.”
she takes a deep breath and leans back into the couch. “okay good. that’s great. again, i’m sorry.”
you nod along and stand up to grab some things from the bags you’d left. “i’ve gotta go meet dina and jesse for something, but i’ll see you there, okay?”
when you turn to look at her she’s blushing. what the hell is she doing blushing? when she see’s you notice it, she turns her head. “yeah yeah. you guys have fun. see you later.”
“she’s bringing abby! i’ve always wanted her to come to a show, i didn’t even know she was in the state.” dina rambles on at rehearsal.
“she drove up last night because she’s taking her home, remember?” jesse chimes up.
ellie’s heard the name abby a record 20 times in the last 5 minutes and it’s starting to play on loop in her head like a mantra. she didn’t care to find out who it was though, they had a show to rehearse for. and she was even more nervous about the public apology. what if you didn’t actually show? what if she really fucked up this time?
“alright guys enough chatter. let’s go over the chorus of ‘what you know’ one more time—“
but she’s stopped by dina whispering to jesse. “i think she might ask her out tonight.”
and jesse asks, “who?” and dina says your name and ellie feels like she’s about to fucking collapse. that all her limbs are going to fall off right then and there. that her head will pop off and roll offstage and onto to the ground. who the fuck is abby? who the fuck is abby? who the fuck is abby?
ellie finds out in the dressing room before the show. “abby! it’s so great to see you.” dina rushes over to give her a hug. jesse settles for a high five and ellie takes a handshake. “so you’re abby?”
“yeah, nice to meet you. i’ve heard so much about you.” abby smiles.
ellie’s cursing herself for any and everything she’s ever done in this moment. the blonde stood in front of her is buff as hell, something she can tell through the hoodie and sweats she was wearing. both being seattle revival merch.
“i can’t wait to see you guys perform.”
ellie ignores her. “where’s…?” she trails. searching behind the girl to see if you’d been hiding behind her big figure. “oh, she’s on her way. had to stop to use the bathroom.” abby responds, sensing you were who she’d been searching for.
ellie wondered if you and abby had started dating yet? who asked out who? how much did abby know about the two of you? was that any of her business? why did she show up now? why hadn’t she heard about her before? maybe she did and wasn’t paying attention? she never really listened to you anyway. not until recently. not until she’d made you cry. made you punch her in the fucking face.
ellie’s thoughts are cut loose when abby taps her on the shoulder. “can we talk?”
ellie nods, eager to do whatever this was going to be in private. “yo, i’ll be right back.” she calls to jesse and dina.
ellie leads her out of the dressing room and into a small area in the hallway that’s getting the least traffic. the second they get there, abby slaps ellie across the face. “don’t you ever fucking talk to her again.”
“who—“ ellie rubs the sore area turning red.
“oh don’t play stupid you know who—“
“no. who the fuck are you to tell me what i can and can’t do? you fucking bitch.”
and a fight ensues. an actual brawl in the hallway. ellie’s on top for a while getting some punches in until abby grabs at her shirt and pulls her to the ground. jabbing her in the stomach. ellie kicks her in the face. it’s almost cartoonish, how wrapped up and wound they are as they lay into each other. someone rushes to grab security but you make it there first. eyes widening as you approach. you call for jesse and dina, and when they recognize your voice it makes them both stop to look up. bloody. scratched up. with tomato red faces.
“what the fuck?”
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Note
So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.
Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-
Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration
World Caves In
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PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.
WORD COUNT: 7.9k
WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.
A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve. 
The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”
All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband. 
Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst. 
From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.
Even now, you only knew the bare minimum. 
The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe. 
Away from you.
Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening. 
They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag. 
It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.
You never listened. 
“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”
“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.” 
A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.” 
You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm. 
Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.
“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”
“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.” 
Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing. 
“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”
“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.” 
Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his. 
“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine. 
A content breath escapes you.
“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”
“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”
His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state. 
“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”
You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek. 
“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”
He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look. 
“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.” 
It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy. 
Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.
The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears. 
Though, confusion takes president. 
“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air. 
Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear. 
Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.
They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something? 
Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed. 
That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door. 
It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose. 
The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.
“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?” 
You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.
But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.
“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here. 
Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.
“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.” 
It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor. 
What did she just say?
Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly. 
“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”
“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”
“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues. 
“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”
“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth. 
“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.” 
As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.
It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.
He can’t just…he can’t…
Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn. 
But he made his bed. 
“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.” 
You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance. 
“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”
It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.
Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.
“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned. 
“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.” 
“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily. 
He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”
You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage. 
Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files. 
None of it mattered.
“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs. 
“You’re still alive and you left me alone.” 
Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters. 
The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright. 
You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.
Urzikstan. 
You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.
Brick meets wall.
And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force. 
As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger. 
“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?” 
There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds. 
God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.
You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.
Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.
“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…” 
Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it. 
There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals. 
What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had. 
But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked. 
Alex…
“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.
You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.
It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered. 
Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work. 
And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.
It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox. 
Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen. 
Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood. 
“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.” 
You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.
It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough. 
“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”
You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex. 
“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.” 
You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.
“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.
“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.
“Passport?”
“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.” 
There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks. 
Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet. 
“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.” 
You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm. 
“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?” 
The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper. 
Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate. 
Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete. 
“Alex…” you whisper to no one. 
Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you. 
Laswell.
There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly. 
But you supposed Kate had your back for that too. 
Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.
You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.
But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.
…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you? 
You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.
This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.
You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.
Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows. 
“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse. 
You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven. 
After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger. 
Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed. 
The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face. 
“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.
“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”  
Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up? 
“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”
“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”
Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change. 
You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all. 
The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.
Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again. 
Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring. 
Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring
It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse. 
Dead silence. 
“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—” 
You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.
If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear. 
Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen. 
When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass. 
Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens. 
He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest. 
Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.
“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.” 
At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony. 
Alex’s gaze drops to the floor. 
“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”
Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you. 
At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again. 
“I…I wasn’t…”
“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!” 
“Sweetheart—”
“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.” 
Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.
Was that what you were angry about?
“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”
“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained. 
“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him. 
But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed. 
“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.
After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired. 
Oh, Alex…
Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”
Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate. 
But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely. 
“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”
You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now. 
All that you needed was Alex. Your home. 
You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.
“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.
“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot. 
The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.
“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”
“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.” 
You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.
Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.
A slightly apologetic look washes over him.
“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.” 
“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”
“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.” 
You hug him tightly.
“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.” 
You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?” 
Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.
“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.
It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once. 
The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.
“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”
“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.” 
You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.” 
Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.
“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”
His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.
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mydadleft471 · 2 months
Text
Carian Tea And Bitter Medicine
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Summary: You've fallen ill and Messmer is deeply worried for his wife. Over the coming days, you slowly recover.
Spoilers for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings other than talk of throwing up. (yuck)
This was a request from @writing-fanics! I'll link it here if you want to see the post. This was super fun! I love writing for the red-haired snake man (clearly that's literally all my blog is lmao). Thank you for requesting and I hope I did it justice!
As always, thank you all so much for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! It means the world to me and I'm so happy I've gotten back into writing!
Messmer had barely left your side for the few days. He was worried sick. No matter how much his servants and healers told him you’d be alright with some rest and medicine, he couldn’t seem to believe them. He thought you were dying, and he could only sit idly by while you suffered. Watching you writhe felt like a stab wound, searing and sharp, right to his chest.
You, his darling wife, looked terrible. A sheen of sweat covered your body even in your lightest nightgown, yet you stayed wrapped in blankets. Chills would wrack your body one minute, and the next you’d be pushing at the blankets because you were overheating. You’d refused almost all food except for a light broth, though it still threatened to come back up. Water wasn’t any easier, and your condition had seemingly gotten worse. Your skin was pale and your eyes didn’t shine like they usually did.
Messmer tried to keep himself busy to drive away the thoughts that plagued his mind. He’d fetch you a cold washcloth and lay it delicately over your forehead, or help you sit up when you’d request a drink of water. You were too weak to lift anything, so he’d carefully tip the glass back enough for you to take small sips.
You’d been confined to the bed for five days due to your sickness. Each morning he’d wake and hope to see you better and healthy once more, but it hadn’t happened yet.
He didn’t sleep well last night, jolting awake in response to any sound you’d make. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he saw you trying to sit up. He hurried to your side immediately, helping you.
“What bothers thee, wife?”
“I just wanted some water. I didn’t want to wake you. I know you haven’t been sleeping much these past few days.” You croak out.
“It bothers me little,” he says while moving to fetch you a glass of cool water. “How dost thou feel this morning?”
“I’m actually hungry, so I’d assume that’s good.”
“I am so very happy to hear that, beloved. Whatever thou wishest for, it shall be done.” He smiles for the first time in days.
“Right now,” you gesture towards him, “I’d love some water.”
He sits beside you on the bed and moves it towards your lips. Your hand finds his and, though shaky, you help tilt the glass back. After a few sips, you tap his wrist and he returns the glass to your bedside table.
“Thank you, husband.” You shoot him a weak smile and his stomach flips. Marriage did little to dull the butterflies you gave him.
“What dost thou desire for breakfast?”
“I don’t mind, really. If we have any left, I’d love to have some of that delicious spiced Carian tea Rellana gifted to us.”
“Of course, beloved.” He gently guides you to lay back down. One of his serpents nips at the blanket and brings it over you. You pat its head in thanks.
“Wilt thou be alright for a short while?” His heart twists uncomfortably thinking about leaving you alone, even if it is just to request food for you.
“Yes, my love. You never stay away for very long.” 
“It pains me to leave thee.”
You grab his hand and squeeze weakly.
“I know. But I’m hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach growls.
“I shall return shortly, my wife.” He kisses your forehead and makes his way towards the door.
Outside, he’s pleased to see a dozen of his most trusted knights. When you fell ill, he ensured you’d be safe from any outside threats. His men were fiercely loyal to both him and his beloved wife.
Noticing the creaking of the door, Fire Knight Salza bowed in greeting.
“How is our Lady, my Lord?”
“She is slowly recovering, though still sick.”
“Shall I send for a servant to bring her food?”
“Yes. She’s requested Rellana’s specialty Carian tea.”
“Ah, a personal favorite of mine. I’ll see her desire fulfilled, my Lord.”
Messmer nods and returns to you, shutting the door swiftly. You’re still laying down on the bed, the covers pulled over you. He sits on the bed and smooths a few rebellious strands of hair down.
“I probably look awful.”
“Never.”
You roll your eyes. “You always were a poor liar, Messmer.”
“I shall never utter a word of disgust or mocking towards thee, beloved.” Even like this, you were beautiful to him.
“I know.” You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and he moves forward, sighing into your touch.
“If I must describe thee, I would say thou lookest sick. Nothing more.”
“How sweet of you. I’m sure if I looked in a mirror, it would shatter.”
“Nonsense.” He kisses your knuckle. “I shall hear these false notions no longer.”
“Fine. But I could probably use a bath.”
“If that is thine desire.”
“Only if you bathe me.” You playfully wink at him. His face reddens.
“Dost thou know no decency?”
“No,” you reply, giggling. “Not around you, at least.”
A sudden knock at the door distracts him. He releases your hand and rises from the bed.
“Enter.” His voice sounds so different when he speaks to anyone but you.
A servant comes in with a small tray of food. They gently set it down on the table beside you and bow to you both before leaving as quickly as they came.
You push yourself to sit up. Messmer moves to help you, but you refuse and slowly get up on your own. He shakes his head at your stubbornness, but he’s happy to see you regaining some strength. Just yesterday you could barely lift your head.
You look over the tray of food and see a bowl of steaming broth with some noodles, a vial of medicine, and your Carian tea. Messmer brings the tray closer to you and you move to pick up the bowl of soup. You feel the worry radiating off of him at the prospect of you burning yourself.
“I’m alright, my love. Just a little weak.” 
You take an experimental sip of your broth and nausea doesn’t immediately make you want to spit it out. Pleased, you continue to take small sips and bites. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, and soon, the bowl is empty. Messmer looks ecstatic that you’ve managed to eat something. 
“How dost thou feel?”
“Fine, actually. Can I have my tea?”
“Medicine first, beloved.”
“Yes, sir.” You tease. He bites his tongue and gives you a look.
He grabs the small vial and takes the cork off. It smells horrible.
“Tell me, does this concoction taste as badly as it smells?” His nose crinkles in disgust and his serpents hiss and recoil.
“Unfortunately.” Taking the vial and tilting your head back, you pour it all into your mouth at once and swallow as quickly as you can. The bitterness coats your tongue and almost burns. You will yourself to not gag and your face scrunches up in displeasure. You can’t wait until you’re better so you no longer have to taste this.
You gesture towards your tea and Messmer hands it to you. You drink some and the bitter taste of medicine slowly recedes to a soothing spice on your tongue. 
“Would you like some?” You gesture towards the tea.
“No, beloved. I would not steal thy favorite tea from thee.”
“You can steal my medicine.” You smile at him from behind your cup.
“I wouldst rather drown.” You laugh.
“Me too.”
“Thou art braver than I.” He refers to your medicine. He places the empty bottle back on the tray and his serpents eye it warily.
You finish your tea and set it down with the rest of your dishes. Messmer moves the tray back to the table for a servant to take away later. He smiles, happy that you’ve finished everything brought to you today. You seemed to be getting better, and for that, he was grateful. Some color had returned to your smooth skin and your eyes seemed more alert.
“Would you come hold me?” You shoot him a pleading glance.
“Thou knowest my weakness, wife. I shall never say no to thee.”
“You just did.” He gently scoots into bed beside you.
“Hmm?” He tilts his head.
“You said you wouldn’t steal my tea. You technically said no to me.” You pout.
He shakes his head, drawing you closer in his arms. His serpents wind protectively over you and you sigh, content.
“I am afraid thou art taking mine words too literally.”
“Maybe.” You mumble into his chest.
“Sleep. Exhaustion clings to thee.” He strokes your hair.
He expects a response from you, and a witty one at that. Perhaps something about how he’s confusing exhaustion for not bathing regularly. But he looks down and you’re fast asleep, tucked into him. He wonders if the Carian tea puts one to sleep. If so, he needs to have a plentiful supply.
His darling wife is getting better, and it did not even require him to pray to Mother. He will dwell on the implications of that later.
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lewkwoodnco · 3 months
Text
late nights - lockwood x reader
you fall asleep while waiting for Lockwood to return from a case
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“Don’t you -“ he poorly stifled a yawn, drawing her even closer as he murmured into her hair. “Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to ask my boss.”
“Your boss says yes because your 10 am client meeting is at the other end of town.”
Damn. “What about my boyfriend?”
“Your boyfriend says yes too. I’ve had enough of you yawning through my pick-up lines at the breakfast table. Now go to sleep.”
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a/n: I knowww the title leaves much to be desired but we’ve already established i suck at titles circa the Falling For You fic so u have to be nice to me 🥹🥹 oddly enough rereading the mediator series spurred me to write this piece even tho it has nothing to do with the series?? anyways enjoy some low stakes fluff 💕💕 can u tell I’m a physical touch girlie lmao
tropes/warnings: fluff, physical touch, established relationship, late-night snuggles, need I say more,
word count: 827!
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In her groggy, half-awake state, she felt a dip in the mattress next to her. Instinctively, the arm resting on her pillow straightened and struck upwards, eliciting a mournful groan from the shadowy figure bent next to her. She propped herself up on her elbows, blinking away the last remnants of sleep in her gritty eyes.
“…Lockwood? Is that you?” she croaked out, voice rough with disuse. A cold finger tenderly curled an askew lock of hair out of her face, knuckles briefly grazing her cheek. The familiar, sharp scent of anti-bacterial soap soothed her as she relaxed into his touch. All too soon, the hand withdrew and the dip in the mattress disappeared, followed by the sounds of Lockwood haphazardly pulling off his remaining equipment. 
“Go back to sleep.”
She blinked blearily, casting her eyes around the room until they rested on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, darling. I should have mentioned to the Raw Bones that I had a curfew.”
No funny quip, no breezy remark. His dry tone was evident, and now she could hear his frustration in the way he was yanking at his shoelaces and throwing his trainers across the room. It felt awful to see someone as good-tempered as him be in such bad of a mood. She winced for his benefit, barely visible in the inky darkness cloaking the room. “That bad?”
He sighed in response, the dip in the mattress returning as he wearily slotted himself against her, slipping his arm below her neck. “I’m just glad it’s over.” Still, the cleft between his eyebrows hadn’t disappeared, and she idly wondered what might have happened that he was too exhausted to tell her. One of these days she was going to pin him down and force out every thought or feeling in his head.
She should have guessed the case wasn’t going great when the clock struck midnight and there was still no sign of George or Lockwood. Still, the lines at the furnaces could get quite long during peak periods, and she had no substantial reason to think things weren’t going fine. 
So instead of spiralling hopelessly, as she was very much in the mood to do, she slipped on one of Lockwood’s T-shirts that he had left lying around and decided to wait in his bed. Just for a while, before trudging over to her room down the hall. Of course, the T-shirt was so soft, deceptively warm and smelled just like him - like fresh pine trees - that she was out like a light.
She never made it down the hall. Or out of his bed, for that matter.
Now, she clumsily reached out and felt for Lockwood’s face, softly running her fingertips over what she was mostly sure was the site of injury. His lidded eyes fluttered shut as he hummed approvingly. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a Visitor.”
She slipped her fingers up into his hair, his lips parting as she massaged soothing circles into his scalp. “Y/N, if your best defence against a Visitor is to drive a fist through it, I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you.”
If his response was any indication, his mood seemed to be on the mend. The stiffness in her limbs dissolved as she tentatively pressed her lips to his temple. “There. All better.”
He opened his eyes and she was finally able to get a good look at him. A scrape along his cheekbone, and a bruise starting to form under an eye, but his spirit seemed unscathed. The only problem with seeing him up close was that he got to see her too. He cupped her face and swiped a thumb under her drooping eyes. “I told you not to wait up.”
“I didn’t,” she lied. Lockwood didn’t look much convinced. But he was also too tired to argue, so he curled an arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest, draping his limbs over hers.
“Don’t you -“ he poorly stifled a yawn, drawing her even closer as he murmured into her hair. “Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to ask my boss.”
“Your boss says yes because your 10 am client meeting is at the other end of town.”
Damn. “What about my boyfriend?”
“Your boyfriend says yes too. I’ve had enough of you yawning through my pick-up lines at the breakfast table. Now go to sleep.”
She acquiesced, but only because her eyelids were beginning to feel too heavy. “I’m trying, but I’ve got this annoying whispering in my ear.”
She could practically hear him roll his eyes. He would have if he weren’t so exhausted. “Good night.”
“‘Night.”
They quieted, and for thirty seconds it was downright serene. That is, until the fingertips lightly tracing her ribs started fiddling with the label on the inside of her shirt.
“Is this shirt…mine?”
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bloodywings · 2 years
Text
night remedy
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CW/TW!!!: self-doubt, feeling undeserving, I think this counts as anxiety, reader has a breakdown, hurt/comfort, deprecating thoughts. kiribaku x reader, bakugou doesn't talk too much, low-key semi-deaf bakugou, takes place in the future
2.7k words
Gender Neutral, plus size and POC friendly!!
I think that's all! please let me know if i missed anything!!
a/n: I started this in September while I was having a breakdown lmao
anyway, thanks for clicking! enjoy!
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“2:25” the red numbers of the alarm clock in front of you read. It was becoming too late to sleep by the second. But sleeping was the last thing you could do.
The room was almost silent. The definition of white noise was blaring throughout the room you were in. The soft blow of a fan that was practically always on. The rustling of a plastic bag, barely blowing in the soft wind the fan let off. And two soft sets of breathing. Your lovers lay next to you, Eijirou on the opposite side of you, and Katsuki in the middle.
This became a regular thing within a few months of the start of your relationship with them. A small disagreement ensued. Bakugou had been upset because he rarely got to sleep in the middle. You and Kirishima had both assumed that he wouldn’t have wanted to be. His quirk made him hot very easily, so two sets of body heat didn’t seem comfortable. That’s what the two of you thought anyway.
Turns out the blonde doesn’t like when decisions are made for him.
He had begun thinking that the two of you loved each other more than him. And he snapped one day. Only to be extremely flustered when he realized the truth of the situation.
You and Eijirou still tease him about it every once in a while.
Usually, the memory made you smile. But the weight in your heart made it practically impossible to do so.
A soft stirring from your blonde lover snapped you out of your trance. His arm is placed in a different place around your torso, attempting to get comfortable and stay sleeping. His stirring caused the red-head attached to him to stir a bit as well. but still, both remained sleeping.
The blonde’s breathing was the most prominent of the two. Blowing directly in your ear. But Kirishima might as well have been next to you anyway. His soft snores filled the room, usually, it was like music to your ears.
Usually? Yes, those soft snores have lulled you to sleep on many occasions. Now? You couldn’t focus on the soft breathing of your boyfriend if you wanted to. The dark thoughts were the thing keeping you awake. You took another glance at the clock, “2:41” the red numbers blared at you.
At that moment, you wished that the red hue would swallow you whole. Practically begging for it to take you somewhere where your head was empty, not a single thought. And the only thing surrounding you was the love of the two boys laying in your bed.
“y’know, one day they’re going to get rid of you?” the voice in your head whispered. The same one that had been torturing you for the past few hours. “one day they’re going to realize that you are of no use to them, and then they’ll leave you.” “Shut up” you inwardly groaned. “you’re only saying that because I’m right, they’re going to go off and be happy, without you”
Logically, you knew they loved you. They wouldn’t be with you if they didn’t. But your brain couldn’t help but scream about how worthless you were. How they would be better off with just themselves. Or maybe even a different third person.
Someone that's not you.
You could feel tears well up in your eyes at the thought. But crying was not a good idea right now. The heaving of your chest might wake up your explosive lover lying peacefully beside you.
So you pulled the blonde’s arm from around you slowly, so as to not wake him. You succeeded, walking slowly to the door. Just trying to go to the living room of your shared apartment to cry, and then come back up as if nothing happened.
But just as you opened the door a groggy voice called out to you. “Where you goin’?” the grouchy blonde questioned. He’d probably woken up from the lack of body heat at his right side. “See, you ruin everything for them, they can’t even get a peaceful night of sleep ‘cause you're a crybaby” the voice taunted.
“I’m just gonna go and get some water,” you responded softly, turning around. whispering as not to wake your other boyfriend sleeping peacefully. “Sorry to wake you,” you mumbled. Katsuki sat up a bit, only to lay back down when the red-head let out a whine. His red eyes were piercing you, they almost made you want to break down.
“m’kay, don’t take too long,” he grumbled, snuggling himself back into the chest of his boyfriend. Which the red-head gladly accepted, wrapping his arms snugly around the blonde.
With that, you made your way to the living room. A place where amazing memories were made, it should have made you happy, but you couldn’t help but feel downhearted.
As you glanced around the room, the standard flatscreen tv caught your eye. It was one of the two that the three of you had to buy.
Memories flooded from when you got the first one. Katsuki had tried to mount the first one himself. Insisting, “You think those extras could do better than me?” And he did it, the TV even held well. He’d even boasted about it, claiming “you idiots should stop doubting me.”
Bakugou ended up eating his words two days later
You had all arrived home at around the same time. Just happy for the day to be over, the gruesome hero work had taken a toll on the three of you.
Only to walk in and see the TV laying on the ground, face first. The screen completely shattered. Your explosive lover expected you and Eijirou to be angry at him. But the two of you were too busy laughing your asses off to scold him for it.
you looked around at the rest of your living room. There were a total of two couches in your living room. One three-seater, and a loveseat. Polaroids strung on the wall brought more tears to your eyes. The pictures varied from the first date you had to the most recent. Each one was dated with Eijirou’s sloppy handwriting.
The very first one was when Kirishima had finally broken down during your second year and spilled his feelings for you two. And you and Katsuki both accepted.
The three of you went on a date to the fair. And Eijirou was so excited, he hadn’t been to one since he was a kid. He was practically bouncing on the train ride there. And he dragged Katsuki and you all around the fairground. Winning prizes for the two of you left and right. From stuffed animals to keychains to a fish that he had won for you.
He wanted to win another for Katsuki, but the blonde claimed “I don’t want some stupid fish that’s gonna die in three days” He scrunched his nose up in annoyance and disgust while declining the red-head's offer. Instead, Eijirou won his boyfriend a large fish plushie, as a replacement for the fish he had won earlier for you.
While your explosive lover claimed to hate it, the stuffed fish sits up at the top of your shared closet.
The most recent one was for your 7th anniversary, it was Katsuki’s turn to plan a date. And he chose to cook and take the two of you to a cliff. Fairy lights were strung on the trees, and a large tent to fit the three of you. Simple, but so thought out. He had brought you two there with just enough time to see the sunset. And then you spent the night in the forest, escaping the city life for just a night.
Those memories are what broke you, they had made you feel so loved and yet you felt as if you didn’t appreciate it. “Do you see what I mean? you don’t even have any faith that they do love you” the voice returned, mocking the thoughts it had implanted into your head.
You found yourself sitting on the three-seater, leaning over, and softly crying into your own hands. Your thoughts running a million miles a minute. You could hardly make them out.
Over and over.
But they all seemed to agree on one thing.
That you were worthless
Every piece of sadness came down on you in waves, from feeling undeserving of their love, to now feeling guilty because they’ve done so much for you, and you still don’t have anything faith in them.
But, nonetheless, you didn’t break down, just small, silent tears, with even softer sniffles.
Though you knew it was unlikely, you didn’t want any chance of either of your lovers catching you in such a vulnerable state.
But little did you know Katsuki had woken back up, realizing you weren't back from the kitchen, and had gotten up to check on you. And much like Katsuki, the lack of body heat had woken up the sleeping giant that lay next to him.
The blonde told his boyfriend to go back to sleep, but his boyfriend refused, mumbling something along the lines of “it's too cold without you.” Or at least that's what Katsuki thought he heard. Ejirou had a habit of speaking the intelligible language when he was half asleep.
The two tired men made their way through the house, with the red-headed giant stumbling the whole way there.
Out on a mission, you lovers made their way down the stairs, passed the front door, through the kitchen, and out to where you sat, with your face in your hands
“Sweetheart?” a tired voice slurred out. You lifted your head from your hands, and through your blurry vision, you see both Eijirou and Katsuki standing in the doorway. Both of them still rubbing the sleep from their vision. The red-head was the one that called out to you.
“What are you doing out here?” Katsuki asked, making his way to you with the sleepy giant not too far behind him. As you looked up at them, Katsuki noticed your cheeks glistening in the soft moonlight that came in through the window.
“Were you crying?” Katsuki questioned. His question caused the red-head's eyes to widen slightly, fully awake and alert after hearing the word ‘crying’’. Eijirou looked at your face, noticing your wet face in the same fashion your blonde lover did.
“Why are you sitting down here, crying to yourself?” Katsuki interrogated, and while you knew that there was no malice behind his question. But you couldn’t help but flinch at his rough tone, you knew he wasn’t actually agitated with you, but his tone of voice was not helping the thoughts screaming in your head right now.
Eijirou nudged the blonde, silently telling him to shut up.
“What Katsuki means is, what's the matter sweets?” the red-haired male queried. kneeling down in front of you. And at that moment, everything came crashing down on you. Your poisonous thoughts, the lack of sleep, the guilt, all of it came crashing on you.
And before you could blink, a racking sob emitted from your chest, which caused both boys to immediately panic. More and more sobs flowed from you like a messy symphony, and to the ears of your lovers, it was like listening to nails on a chalkboard. Just the sound alone was enough for adrenaline to pump through their veins in panic.
“Hey, hey look at me, ____.” Eijirou pleaded. His heart was hammering in his chest. He’d comforted people before, but this was different, he was afraid you weren’t breathing enough with how hard you were crying. But you couldn’t obey his command, you were way too embarrassed to even think of showing your face. After realizing this, your red-headed lover asked “Is it okay if I hold you?” The small nod you gave was enough for Eijirou to pull you into his arms quickly, whispering soft “its okay”-s and “we’ve got you”-s over and over.
You could feel how hard his heart was beating and it only made you feel worse.
Meanwhile, Katsuki was no better, he sat silently, a hand rubbing circles on your back. He didn’t want to say anything that could possibly make the situation worse. He knew his attitude was harsh, and he knew he had a reputation for saying the wrong thing in situations like these. If anyone had walked in on the scene, they would think he doesn’t care. But lord knows he cares a lot, maybe even more than Eijirou, his palms were sweating, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost as if it was trying to jump out of his rib cage.
It felt like forever until your sobs slowed down to small coughs and shaky breathing. Now that you were done crying, the situation began to dawn on you. You had woken up your partners in the middle of the night because you were doubting yourself. Sadness began to fade over into embarrassment. You hoped they could just drop this, and you’d go to bed.
But unfortunately, Kirishima was the first to break the silence. “baby? you okay?” he questioned with a strong amount of hesitation. He didn’t want to cause you to break down again. “yeah, ‘m fine” you sniffled softly, snuggling further into the chest of your red-headed lover, attempting to hide from everything that had happened.
Kirishima only hummed as an acknowledgment, trying to find the words to help you. But before the words could make their way into his chest, he heard a soft mumble from you. A very muffled and almost unintelligible, “M’sorry” fell from your lips. It was so soft that Katsuki hadn’t even heard it, which was good for you, he probably would have had your head on a pike for apologizing for something like this.
“There's nothing to be sorry for baby, nothing at all,” Ejirou whispered, one of his hands coming up from your waist to rest on the back of your neck. Rubbing small, comforting, shapes into your skin with his thumb. “like I said, we’ve got you.” your boyfriend reassured, with all of the love he could muster.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Katsuki mumbled into the crease of your neck, where his head had been sitting for a while. A small, “not really” fell from your lips before you could really think about the question.
All you knew was that the thought of speaking about your feelings was enough to make that small knot come to the back of your throat. making it borderline impossible to hold the small tears that welled in your eyes. you blinked, attempting to make them go away, but instead the small droplets were soaked up by Eijriou’s shirt.
After a small amount of silence, your red-headed partner suggested you all go back to bed. As the three of you walked back to your bedroom, well more like your two lovers, Kirishima refused to let you walk, he carried you through the kitchen, into the front doorway, and up the stairs, with Bakugou following not too far behind.
As you entered your shared bedroom, which had grown cold due to the fan being on high speed, you began to feel sleepy. you were fighting your closing eyelids when your lover placed you in the middle of your soft mattress. both men coming to lay on either side of you.
And when their arms wrapped around you, smothering you in between them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort. almost as if the love they had was wrapping itself around you, but not in a suffocating way, it had just enough pressure to let you know how much they care for you.
While the love of your boyfriends couldn’t make all your problems go away, it could get you through the night. and that alone made the future seem a little brighter.
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A/n: Hii, so how was it? Please let me know in the comments! If you have any ways I can improve as a writer please let me know! (remember there is a difference between constructive criticism and being rude)
Notes and reblogs are appreciated
I hope you're having a good day! And if not, I hope tomorrow is better! bye darlings <3
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redr0sewrites · 7 months
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I’m obsessed with your hazbin stuff rn it’s incredible
idk how much you could write for this but you write a bit about sub vox after you finish fucking him. so basically just vox aftercare. I don’t think he’d be super into non-sexual touch but I think while in subspace/while coming out of it he would be super clingy and touchy.
I’ve been thinking about taking care of a fucked out vox for a while and I’m obsessed with the image.
thank you in advance and have a nice day <33
YESSSSS!!!! im a huge sucker for aftercare ♥️
🥀Cw: fluff, aftercare, mentions of smut but nothing explicit, bathing
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listen, no matter what type of sex yall are having, whether its rough and fast or slow and soft, vox always ends up exhausted
after subbing vox is always clingier than usual, but he's also a lot more emotional than usual
wipe off his tears, wait for him to calm down and just let him cling to you before even starting the aftercare process
vox just needs to be held for a few minutes as he slowly begins to become slightly coherent
i don't see him as the type to want to talk much after sex, he'll mumble a little request or an "i love you" here and there but thats about it
vox pretty much melts into your touch, and he wants you to take care of him
he very rarely feels taken care of, and hes so stressed out most of the time that it just feels very foreign to him
when it comes to actually cleaning up after sex, vox is normally still too deep into subspace to do much
hes always overstimulated, and will def glitch out when you wipe off his thighs and clean him up
vox loves the intimacy of just laying back while you wash the slick off his thighs with a warm towel, pressing soft kisses to his screen and praising him as he comes out of subspace
he needs your praise and reassurance, especially when you were rough or mean to him
he'll try to be nonchalant and ask you if you really meant all the degrading things you said, but you can tell that vox's genuinely insecure about what you think of him
praise him and tell him you're so proud of him, tell him how he took you so well and how he's your good bot
vox is too incoherent and embarassed to reply but he clings a little closer to you and his screen flushes to a warmer pink
a lot of the time vox's claws will rip up the sheets and blankets, he feels bad about it but he can't control it in the moment so he'll try to help you out with setting the bed even though his legs are shaking and he's still barely coherent
PLEASE just shush him and tell him you can handle it, then run him a warm bath
considering vox is rich af ur bathtub is def big enough for the both of you, and he enjoys just laying with you in the warm water
he likes to admire all the marks you give him in the mirror, he adores seeing the hickeys and scratches on his skin
like i said he's not much of a talker after sex but he doesn't mind listening
he'll play with your fingers or trail his hand up and down your arm as you talk to him about your day
when you're both all cleaned up and relaxed, i think he'd (secretly) like it if you dressed him
theres something so intimate about you buttoning up his night shirt, giggling and pressing kisses to his screen as he pouts at you
vox pulls you on top of him when you guys are cuddling so that he can wrap his arms around you!
by this point he's def more coherent and out of subspace so he's not as clingy, but still wants your touch (if that makes sense lmao)
like he's too prideful to cling to you or ask you to hold him but really wants to be held
he'll pout when you spoon him but the fact that he practically melts into your touch betrays his true feelings
vox sleeps like the dead after being fucked and mornings after sex are the few mornings he actually sleeps in
overall, post sex vox is a side thats much softer than usual, and truly shows how much he loves and trusts you
pushing through these long ass work days yall- tmrws my last day so i'll be posting more next week!!!!!!! i need to write more fluffy stuff w vox its come to my attention that i literally only write nsfw for him 😭
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heartandfangs · 2 years
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HALOS, HORNS & EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN.
GENRE Roommate AU, Smut, Hint of Romance
PAIRING Jongseong/Jay x Fem!Reader x Heeseung
WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Threesome, Cursing, Jealousy, Breast worship (what’s new), Making out, Oral sex (f!receiving), Mention of food, Light biting, Daddy kink, Role play, Cum eating/swapping, Unresolved feelings, Dom!Jay, SoftDom!Heeseung, PowerSub!Reader, HeeJay are pervs
SUMMARY After several long months of ignoring the angel and devil living across the hall, said roommates take matters into their own hands to please you on your special day. 
WORD COUNT 4k
AUTHOR’S NOTE This one’s simple but kinda crazy?? ngl I REALLY got carried away with the wc for this first request, but I’m going to try and keep the others shorter so I can get through them quicker. Definitely felt less pressure while writing this for fun tho. Happy birthday 🪶 anon! I took some artistic liberties with your simple request lmao, but hope you and everyone enjoy it regardless (if it’s not ur cuppa tea dw!) 🖤🤍🖤🤍 
See end for cont. author’s note.
Masterlist
© 2021-2023, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.
After an incredibly rough week of work, you’d completely forgotten to switch off your alarm last night so you could sleep in for your birthday. It was your long-awaited day. 
“The fuck,” You groaned before tapping the screen of your phone to silence the obnoxious sound. 
Clambering and scurrying footsteps could be heard outside your bedroom and in the shared kitchen. A nagging feeling in your stomach told you that you wouldn’t be allowed back to sleep any time soon. 
After about a minute, you noticed the sound of your roommates gathering outside your door— then knuckles tentatively rapping against it.
You pulled your duvet over your head and curled up tighter onto your side, refusing to answer. 
Another knock.
It was more insistent this time, annoyingly so. 
“What?” Your grumpy tone made it known that they were unwelcome visitors this early in the morning. 
Please go away…
Jay, seemingly unbothered by your attitude, cracked open the door, surveying your condition before swinging it wide open to reveal a birthday cake in his hand. 
Heeseung didn’t look any better than you in his black sweatsuit set and cowlicked ash-gray hair hiding his half-lidded eyes. Jay more than likely dragged him out of bed to help him prepare your surprise, yet he still gave you a smirk behind Jay’s shoulder and flashed you a peace sign. 
With a mischievous smile, Jay strode to the edge of your bed wearing a typical pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank, his lean arms on display. “Morning, birthday girl.” 
Heeseung made his way in and released a handful of red and pink balloons that floated to the ceiling; you’d think it was Valentine's Day or something. “Happy birthday, ___.”
Slowly, you dragged yourself up to sitting, keeping your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You rubbed your eyes, “I can’t believe I sabotaged myself with my alarm today.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Jay balanced the cake in one hand as he kneeled on the floor by your bed and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, “And well, now you just have more of your day to enjoy. But first, cake.”
Of course, they knew better than to sing. You sighed and stared down at the simple, pink-frosted cake piped with red dollops in a heart-shaped border. 
In the center was written in red frosting:
u can’t pick ur dad
but u can pick ur daddy(s)
hbd!!!
You snorted and pressed a hand to your lips, raising an eyebrow at the two. Grammatically, it didn’t even make any sense, but you guessed it wasn’t supposed to. 
“What the hell is this? Which of you—” You barely managed to get out, shoulders shaking from laughter as you eyed Heeseung and gave Jay a look of scrutiny, “Or should I even bother to ask?”
In return, Jay playfully swiped the pads of his fingers across the corner of your lips, effectively smearing a bit of pink cream onto your skin. 
“Hey—“ Despite flinching, your tongue automatically darted out to sample the rich semi-sweet frosting, eyes widening in approval, “Mm!”
Jay chuckled and licked the remaining frosting off of his thick fingers, watching as you quickly averted his gaze, “I baked and decorated it. Obviously. But this guy stalked your Pinterest boards and saw something similar. So that’s how we got the idea, I guess.”
“Stalked? I just follow her,” Heeseung insisted, twirling the pink ribbon from a balloon around his finger. The two of them glanced at each other, and despite being touched by the sentiment, you paused.
While you had some pretty questionable content saved to the boards on your account, you definitely couldn’t have known Heeseung bothered to keep an eye on them.
What else did they see?
“Oh— how thoughtful of you,” You glanced over at the culprit, who suddenly found your carpet fascinating.
Jay cleared his throat and gestured the candle-lit cake towards you, its dancing flames taunting you, “Well, make your wish before the candle wax melts all over it, ___. Anything you want?”
“Hm,” You casually stretched your arms and shrugged off your blanket to reveal your gym shorts riding up your thighs as you crossed your ankles, “So if I wished for you both to leave me alone right now, you’d grant my wish?”
Heeseung untangled his finger from the balloon ribbon, blinking in surprise just as Jay’s shoulders slumped slightly, a flicker of hurt unexpectedly crossing his features. The blond pressed his lips together and stood to his feet. 
“Well, if that’s what you want. We’ll leave you be.”
“Jay…”
He nearly bumped into Heeseung on his way out but stopped at the sound of your sultry voice. 
Heeseung seemed enraptured as you gnawed at your lips and ushered Jay back with a simple look and tilt of your chin. The younger man’s gaze settled on the stretch of your thin cotton shirt over your breasts, and you felt yourself flush.
“I’m fucking with you both. Bring my pretty cake back.”
Both of them seemed to perk up as though they misheard you before trying to cover up how your choice words affected them.  
Jay huffed at your smug grin, “Go on then, blow it out, princess.”
With a roll of your eyes, you leaned forward and blew out the candles lined along the top of the rosy pink cake, leaving a trail of smoke in the air. 
“There, I made my wish. Thank you, boys.”
The last word seemed to grate on Jay’s nerves, with the way he haphazardly slid your cake onto your desk. 
“Hey, be careful. Why wouldn’t you handle your hard work with care? I’m gonna eat that later,” You quipped. 
“What was your wish?” Jay dared to ask, crossing his arms as he leaned back onto your desk. 
That earned him a weird look from you. 
“You can’t just ask her that,” Heeseung nudged Jay in his side and took the opportunity to sit next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Heeseung was a bit intimidating in size, but his proximity didn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest— or so you liked to tell yourself. “We’re not done with your gifts yet.”
You faced him and leaned back on your hand, placing the other atop your thighs, skin suddenly prickling with goosebumps. “No?”
Heeseung couldn’t help the subtle smile playing at his lips due to the unnecessary but predictable tension between you and Jay, “We know the extra attention isn’t your favorite, but just for today, don’t fight it.”
“What do you mean? Don’t fight what exactly…?” You continued to feign confusion, feeling your heart thump erratically as Heeseung tucked your messy hair behind your ears and dragged his soft caress along your warm cheeks.
You felt a sense of adoration in his touch, those languid eyes of his melting into your own so you wouldn’t have doubts about what was to follow. 
“This,” The manner in which Heeseung moved against you was gentle but confident, his moist lips capturing yours as though he didn’t want a second with you to go to waste but still knew he could take his time with you. 
How could you fight such a sweet kiss?
Not long after, Heeseung began to playfully prod his tongue along your inner cheek before swirling it against yours, slowly dropping his palms down your delicate neck, then even lower, until he found your soft breasts. The squeeze of his warm hands around them sent a jolt through your body and tightened the knot in your belly; you couldn’t help but arch your back to press closer to him with an airy moan.
It took a second before you realized the gravity of what you were doing with your shyest roommate and steadied yourself against his chest. “Heeseung—”
Then you felt a rougher set of fingers hook underneath your jaw and steal you away from Heeseung’s kisses. 
Jay stood over you and held you in place, pressing a frosting-dipped thumb past your lips, the flavor awakening your tastebuds once more. 
“Suck,” Jay commanded under his breath, which was somehow more intimidating than if he were to shout it. As he pushed the pad of his thumb down onto your wet muscle, you obediently closed your lips around the knuckle of his finger and met his keen eyes.
He nodded approvingly, “That’s a good girl.”
It was common for the two of you to always give each other a hard time, but if he ever overstepped his boundaries, he always made up for it through an unexpected warm gesture or a home-cooked meal the next day once things had simmered down. He wasn’t as much of a hardass as he let on.
At first, Heeseung appeared to be the most laid-back and benevolent of you three, but you always figured he was more of a maverick than one might initially guess. It wasn’t until he started playing clever pranks on you after a couple of months of getting to know him that you realized you’d finally cracked through that bashful exterior of his.
Although the three of you shared an undeniable chemistry that allowed you to live together as roommates without entirely wanting to rip each other’s throats out, neither of them had ever made a move on you before— and you couldn’t have ever guessed they’d make a move on you together.
Were there signals over the months that you’d missed? Looking back, yes, that might’ve been the case— but you’d chosen to ignore them due to an inability to make up your mind. Perhaps that’s why things were getting out of hand; you’d driven the two of them up the wall, and they had no choice but to retaliate.
All you could do right now is try to make it through whatever they had in store for you… and somehow, you didn’t mind that. 
“Hate it?” Jay asked.
Judging by your heavy eyelids and the sweet hum of your voice vibrating against his digit, he had an idea that it was quite the contrary.
“Figured,” Jay removed his thumb from your mouth with a pop and leaned over to pull you against his lips for a crushing kiss of his own.
He was all heat and didn’t hesitate to tug your lips between his teeth or shove his tongue against yours until you were red in the face, gasping for air and more of him simultaneously. 
“Mmh— Jay!”
He gave you a haughty look and continued to make a mess out of you, ruthlessly nipping at your ear and down your neck, knowing that you enjoyed the roughness of his affection. It almost killed you when he slowed down a bit, eyes flickering open to stare at you with his forehead pressed to yours, breathing the same air as you.
Right then, you felt Heeseung mouth over the fabric of your shirt, gradually coaxing your nipple to hardness. With the moan you rewarded him with, he grew bold and pulled the fabric over your breasts to take the one closest into his mouth, suckling sweetly around it.
You swore your nipples had a direct connection to your clit because it pulsed against your tight shorts and made you sink your fingers into tufts of Heeseung’s dark grey hair with a whimper.
Of course, Heeseung would be the one to make you give in.  
After seeing your lovely reactions to his other roommate’s ministrations, Jay promptly kneeled on the bed and caught your other nipple with his soft lips. You cried out as he released it with a smack, only to continuously flick at the tip with his tongue, sending you into oblivion. 
The two boys worked in tandem to pleasure you, tugging at your delicate nipples and laying kisses on your burning skin, the delicious sounds of their mouths worshiping your body falling on your ears. How they had their own ways of going about it made you feel even more cherished by the two. This was the kind of gift that kept on giving. 
“Oh my god, that feels so good,” Panting, you tipped your head back and squeezed your eyes shut, letting the pleasure wash over your body at being tended to with such enthusiasm. Your panties were growing wetter by the second. 
“I told you she’d lose it once we started milking her tits,” Heeseung commented, reaching up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, “Like the feeling of getting milked that much, baby?”
The way Heeseung addressed you made your stomach do flips. 
“Mmn, yes… You guys are fucking— ah— crazy,” You whined helplessly.
“We’re not the ones posting kinky shit to our public socials,” Jay deflected with a hoarse laugh, remembering something in particular he saw on yours that he liked.
He continued to suck and knead at your breast with the intent to make you swell under his touch, and by the time you were begging for release, he wanted you to be soaked through your little shorts.
With a bit of tooth and control, Jay gradually sucked around your areola until you let out a delighted yelp, in which he quelled your pain with laps of his tongue. He was extremely cognizant of how your hips twitched, inviting him to touch you further.
“Hngh— please, it’s not like I planted a seed in your minds. You were both perverts to start with,” You shot back despite feeling stranded in the fog of bliss, “Jacking off in the shower with my soap…”
Jay, in particular, froze at your accusation.
“I’ve used that brand my whole life and noticed each bottle went quicker ever since I moved in with you two. And then jacking off in my bed when I’m not home—”
You punctuated your slight annoyance by curling your fingers around Heeseung’s cheeks. That irked you a bit more than Jay’s shower antics for hygienic reasons.
“I can smell your shampoo all over my pillow, you know. Can you at least change my sheets out of courtesy once you’re done? Bet you wanted me to figure it out, didn’t you?”
The entirety of Heeseung’s skin above his collar turned a deep shade of scarlet, his large eyes shining from embarrassment. “Shit, uh. I-I…I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even do your laundry for a month.”
“What, so you can steal another pair of my panties?”
Heeseung couldn’t hide his startled expression. A few seconds passed before a smirk made its way onto his flushed face, and he wet his lips. “‘Course not …”
Jay cocked a brow at Heeseung having been exposed to the degree that he was. Really, the two of them should’ve known better. Although the blond wasn’t sure if there were more things Heeseung’s done that you hadn’t caught onto yet, he knew that to be so in his case.
“I knew it all along,” You sat up straighter and stroked Jay and Heeseung beneath their chin, spreading your legs to reveal how your arousal had seeped through your layer of panties staining the fabric of your bottoms a darker, enticing shade.
With greedy looks in their eyes, both boys set their sights on the evidence of your excitement, saliva collecting under their tongues. 
“So, how are you both really gonna make up for such shameless, deranged behavior?”
Heeseung felt his cock twitch heavily in his sweatpants at your challenge, knowing it was all your fault. 
“We were just getting to that part,” Jay appealed, caressing his hand along your inner thigh, dipping closer and closer to your warmth, “___, trust me, you’ll forget all about our fuck-ups in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” You directed Heeseung to continue stimulating your tits by dragging his chin forward as you leaned back onto your elbows. 
He peeked over his shoulder at Jay, who positioned himself between your legs, and it was evident by the dark glint in his eyes that he wanted to taste you as well. However, you judged his sinful shenanigans to be greater than Jay’s and instead jerked his head towards your chest, your free hand gripping your breast.
“C’mon, Daddy, make my wish come true. Milk my tits and pussy, I want it so badly...”
That was a first. Your words seemed to reset the two back in order; Heeseung’s breath caught in his chest, but Jay fell back into the flow of things quicker. 
“Shit, baby. We’ll give it to you.”
You squirmed as Jay ran his hot tongue over the seam tucked between your swollen mound, his fingers tugging at your waistband to strip you bare.
Heeseung held your hazy gaze as he yanked off his top, tossing it onto the floor before diving back into devouring your breasts. With each messy kiss placed on your chest, your entire body shuddered, and Heeseung found himself groaning against your skin from how amazing it felt to finally gratify his urges for you. 
It was so satisfying to make you moan nonsensical things while feeling your nails scrape along his nape and upper back. 
Once Jay freed you from your shorts, all that was left was your drenched panties, which he took an even more passionate lap at, shoving his tongue against the dip of your entrance through the fabric but all too conveniently avoiding where you needed him most. 
“Mm, Daddy… please,” You whispered with a gulp, spreading your legs even wider to lure him in, “Please make me come on your tongue.”
Jay’s eyes softened; in return, he pressed a kiss to the flesh of your trembling thigh and began to remove the last barrier of clothing that kept him from your warm, wet pussy. “Alright, baby. I’m gonna help you come so much, okay?”
“Mhmm…” You nodded.
Ah, it was so different to see him like this. He’d always spoiled you one way or another, hadn’t he?
If only you noticed how his cock was straining in his pants at seeing you spread so prettily for him while thoroughly enjoying getting your tits sucked. 
“I haven’t seen a pussy prettier than this,” Jay commented, catching his roommate’s attention.
For a second, you were given a chance to breathe and merely collapsed onto the sheets, staring up at the balloon-covered ceiling as Heeseung leaned over your body to enjoy the sight of your arousal dripping down your folds. 
“Fuck, it’s so wet,” Heeseung murmured, his eyes drinking up the erotic view of you from above as he spread your lips apart with his middle and index fingers. “Look at that drooly little hole. It’s clenching so tightly…”
Jay chuckled, and you could only whimper, feeling Heeseung’s breath ghost over your pussy. Hearing them talk about you so casually caused your face to overheat; you wondered if they ever discussed you behind your back like this. 
“Think this pink little clit would like it if we suck on it?”
Before Jay could respond, Heeseung pressed forward and swiped his tongue across your swollen clit, fit his lips around the nub, and then sucked. 
“Heeseung!” You jerked against his face and reached back to grip your duvet, feeling more wetness drip onto your sheets. 
Heeseung had the nerve to snicker in front of Jay’s face before pressing himself back up at the sound of your needy voice.
Jay’s jaw clenched, but he hadn’t made a move to stop the other male since it wasn’t against their agreement. All he could do was sink his grip into your mattress, pissed that Heeseung had just stolen the first taste of you from him.
Well, he did practically invite him over to gloat before feasting on you. He just didn’t anticipate that it’d backfire; should’ve thought twice about that. 
Little did you know it’d work in your favor. 
“Mm, knew you’d taste like candy,” Heeseung hummed, clearly trying to hold back a smile. He tipped your chin up, his voice low and tender, “Give Daddy a kiss, I want you to taste yourself.”
You were tentative in doing so but eventually got lost in the sensation of sharing the taste of your arousal with Heeseung. It made your lips tingle, toes curling against Jay’s shoulders. 
“Ah…”
Every inch of your skin became a magnet for Heeseung’s lips as he kept himself busy, rubbing at your tits, fully aware of the havoc he’d wreaked with Jay. He supposed that’s one thing he shared in common with you— getting on Jay’s nerves when he felt like it. 
Oh, were you feeling absolutely dizzy now, and even more so when a plush pair of lips you’d been missing began to make out with your pussy. 
You exhaled harshly and glimpsed down your body at the blond tending to your aching mound. All that softness previously on display was gone; Jay’s never looked more starved than he did now, grip fierce on your thighs whilst plunging his tongue into your pussy.    
“Oh fuck, Jay—!“
He wasn’t messing around. With each heavy drag of his hot tongue on your clit, your muscles seized, breath growing shorter and shorter, your body on the brink of an orgasm. 
Heeseung latched onto your tit and rolled your other nipple under his fingers, watching your desperate expression from beneath his lashes. 
With the incredible sensations you were experiencing all over the pleasure points of your body, you were done for. 
Jay reveled in the fact that you couldn’t keep your plush thighs from squeezing tightly around his head. He was just as attentive to your responses as Heeseung, his kisses to your clit pushing you over the edge as your eyes fluttered shut. 
Shocks of pleasure traveled up your core, causing spasms throughout your entire body. The boys couldn’t get enough of your precious moans echoing off your bedroom walls, and Jay seemed to be enjoying your high as much as you were. You felt his moans rumble against your skin— had a feeling he was savoring every drop of you.  
Heeseung fondly ran his fingers through strands of your hair strewn across the sheets while your limbs were awash with ecstasy. Despite your twitching, you felt Jay continue to dip between your thighs and gather your creamy release on his tongue. Shortly after, he crept over your body and reached for your jaw, his eyes trained on yours as you felt his cock scorch against your abdomen.
“Open,” He urged, and not a second later, you were mindlessly offering him your tongue. 
Your cream dribbled from the tip of his tongue onto yours, like honey— and just before the strand could break, he sealed his lips over yours, stroking deeply and slowly into your mouth like he wanted you to blackout in his arms from lack of oxygen.
Oh god…
After all that, you managed to let out a breathless chuckle and offer Jay a bashful smile which he returned.
“So, did we somewhat make up for our shameless, deranged behavior?” He asked. 
Well. You supposed you could say you weren’t nearly as put off by the secret perversions that took place over the past several months as you were 30 minutes ago.
You swallowed thickly, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you pressed your sticky thighs together. “Yeah… a bit.”
“Just ‘a bit’ she says. Good thing we have more gifts,” Heeseung exchanged a look of amusement with Jay and kneeled by your side.
He began to stroke himself over the jet black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, brazenly shooting you a heated look as he did.
Without thinking, you reached out to touch him, and his large hand immediately covered yours, guiding you to squeeze along his thick cock and feel him up as you pleased. You just couldn’t get your hands on enough of him— either of them.
Heeseung clicked his tongue.
“Wanna open mine?”
A/N CONT.
Yay, I can finally add something to Jay’s repertoire! It was fun to see what naturally came out on the page for him in this fic, he ended up being Very Daddy. 😵‍💫 I actually started a femdom sub!Jay fic months ago but never got around to finishing it so I’m glad some other anons requested more of him lmao
I wasn’t sure if I’d like writing a threesome fic, but I thought I’d try it out– I didn’t hate it. A threesome tit sucking scene had been a long time comin 🤭 ANYWAYS Hee was a nice contrast to Jay in this as I’m still high off of him in NIIY. 🥰 This is also my first time writing in some aspects of a Daddy kink, but I’m still exploring it. Let me know if you enjoyed that aspect bc I know I usually tend towards more switch dynamics in my fics?
I was about to write a part 2, but I gotta get the other requests done! Also random but not, I feel like perv Hee is just a running joke in this fandom on here, so I’m just keeping the legend alive (again), he’s the official panty thief ™
As always, reblog, like or follow me if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist for more fics ⚰️🖤 It’s appreciated!
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miaoua3 · 9 days
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Heyyy girl I hope ur doing well. Thank u for the amazing works ur doing it never fails to make my day and I love u for that 💗 anwys I'm so excited to ask u this...could u do a girl and boy dad cheol hcs(or whatever u called it) or one shot or both?! It's up to u which one u want to do first. Thank uuu in advance mwahhh 😚🤭
hii! first of, im so glad to hear that you enjoy my work, it always makes me happy when you guys say something like that, it’s the bigger part why i do this😭🫶 and sure i can, i will do hcs because at this point it’s my trademark haha. anyway i hope you enjoy this!❤️
Girl/Boy Dad! Seungcheol Headcanons:
girl dad! seungcheol who cried like a baby when they first placed his little girl in his arms, who cried even harder when she immediately stopped crying once she was placed on his bare skin, as if she knew that it was her papa who was holding her❤️
boy dad! seungcheol who made it a competition with you to make your son say “dada” as his first word, always whispering to his son “say ‘dada’, can you say dada? hm? cmon, make daddy proud son, if you say it dad will buy you every toy that you want to” he’s so…ijbol i can’t with him lmao
girl dad! seungcheol who can go nights without sleep if it means he can stay next to her crib the whole night every night, looking at her with eyes filled with so much love, gently rubbing his finger against her chubby cheeks, softly humming to her until he gets discovered by you and dragged back to bed because it is the third night in the row he has done this
boy dad! seungcheol who put hours and hours of work into decorating his son’s nursery, making his own stencils to paint on the wall, putting on those glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling❤️ (if you’re wondering the theme of the nursery is the universe, with little rockets and planets painted all over the walls)
girl dad! seungcheol who cries more than his daughter on her first day of school, who literally had to call in sick because he couldn’t stop crying, wailing to you how much he misses his little princess and how she isn’t ready for the real world (read: it’s not her that isn’t ready, it’s him)
boy dad! seungcheol who puts so much effort into his son’s interests-if he’s into football count on seungcheol to have a whole day reserved just for his baby where they will play football and he will show him how to do some tricks, he knows all his favourite characters, knows all the names of his plushies, knows everything about his son, he’s just so attentive with him it’s so-😭
girl dad! seungcheol who has his first ever heartbreak when his girl comes home from school and admits that she has a crush on a boy from her class, he will literally go to the bathroom and stare at his reflection, trying so hard not to cry😭 that night you will have to assure him so much that he’s still her number one man and that she still loves him the most while he’s crying quietly (so so dramatic)
boy dad! seungcheol who has a talk with his son before he gets together with his first girlfriend about how he should treat women correctly and to not even think about doing anything stupid like cheating on her or something like that or he will be very disappointed in him
girl dad! seungcheol who cries like a baby on his daughter’s wedding day because what do you mean she officially won’t be sharing his last name with you two anymore? what do you mean she’s all grown up? what do you mean she now will have her own family and she won’t be able to pick up every call of his anymore because she will be busy with her own kids? he will cry so much on his day that the daddy-daughter dance will actually kill him
boy dad! seungcheol who is his son’s best friend and biggest fan and supporter, as well as his son’s biggest idol, so it’s only natural that his son makes him his best man on his wedding day, and what an honour it is to see how well his son has grown up to be, what a blessing it is that he turned out to be just as he predicted he would-and even more
dad! seungcheol who loves his kids unconditionally and raise them to be good people, who teaches them to choose their own happiness every day of their lives❤️
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
this was so much fun to write! if you liked this and want to see the same about the other members pls request it, i would love to do it for all of them!
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
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Carmy as your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part seven
a/n: may write a 'carmy & you as parents' headcanon. may also add another cute graphic/social post, however, for now... this is it, folks! enjoy our darling dearest baby daddy au which is pretty much just leaked dms between me and @carmensberzattos.
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part six | masterlist
your life with carmy and baby bear:
first, baby bear has so many different cutie little nicknames: jo, joey, joey-bear, phinnie, and richie's personal favorite: toni-bear.
since you have the privilege of going on maternity leave, you do a lot of the day to day heavy lifting while carmy is at the restaurant. while he's pulled back a little at the restaurant, you know that carmy needs a little chaos in his life to feel at ease.
you parents decide to come to chicago to help with the baby for a few weeks. while baby bear's nursery is all set up, you don't exactly have a guest room. you're in tears over changing the nursery into a guest room last minute, so carmy enlists both richie, fak, and pete to do the job so that you don't have to. sugar and syd decide to take you out for a girls' day at the spa, and when you come home, you can't believe those four idiots managed to pull it off. (do i need to write this oneshot because i think i need to write this oneshot)
the proverbial 'they' say it takes a village, and it sure as hell does. you feel so incredibly lucky to have a village that shows up: marcus organizes a meal train and is one of the first to come over and spend time with his goddaughter; sydney is more than happy to pop back into shifts at the bear every now and then, just to give carmy so reprieve; and tina is ALWAYS down to babysit if she's got the time.
ava, richie's daughter is obsessed with baby bear, and is so excited that she finally has some cousins to play with. "boys are gross" -- ava, about baby michael and why she likes baby bear more lmao.
some nights, when baby bear wakes up in the middle of the night, it's not technically his 'turn' but carmy insists on getting up to put baby bear back to sleep. one restless night of sleep, you wake up to the sound of him watching anthony bourdain's no reservations. when you bring it up later that morning, carmy confesses to you that it's the only thing that will get her back down because he used to turn it on when you fell asleep, instead of the classical music you insisted was better for the baby while you were pregnant with her. while you pretend to be upset, you usually thank carmy for getting up when it's 'not his turn' with morning head that you're more than happy to give him before he goes off to work.
you always have a go-to table when you and baby bear go visit daddy at the bear, and no matter what, he always makes it a point to come out and say hello to the both of you.
while the first few months you and carmy both survive on nothing but takeout, meal trains, and stuff carmy's brought home for the restaurant, he diligently meal preps week after week for baby bear by making her homemade baby food packs. "you sure you don't mind? we can always pick something up from the store, babe?" you ask him. "no, it's just like a puree. i got this."
on the days that you're purely exhausted and at your wit's end, you and sugar commiserate via text and sometimes facetime, because you're not sure how she's doing life with a new baby AND another baby on the way.
the night before you go back to work, you spend most of the evening sobbing because you're simultaneously ready and exhausted, while you can't imagine being away from baby bear either. but you go back on a hybrid schedule, two days in office, three at home, so it helps, even though it's still a huge adjustment.
on the days that you are in office, carmy takes those days off, wanting to pull his weight as you guys go through this transition.
carmy is an amazing dad, something he wasn't sure he could be, considering he barely grew up with one. he's surprisingly patient and he's totally in love with baby bear. like the day she was born it broke his heart into pieces because it broke open an entirely different kind of love that he wasn't sure he was capable of.
even though it's hard work, you and carmy both agree that this is the best decision you've ever made together and carmy can't get over the idea of trying for another soon. "let me take a nap first, and then we can talk. unlike you, the rest of us can't survive on 30 mins of sleep, babe," you tease him.
okay hear me out: when baby bear is a toddler, the two of you love spending saturday mornings either going to the farmer's market, or picking up mochi donuts (think: the cute kinds with little animal faces) to bring back to the restaurant and share with daddy, even though he's slammed with brunch service. baby bear comes running into the restaurant on the sweetest, chubby little legs and richie, fully in his suit picks up her and spins her around while greeting her with her signature nickname: toni bear!
eventually, you and carmy move out of the apartment and start renting a house that you plan on renting for the long term. you're not entirely sure either of you want to be home owners yet, but you're anxious to get baby bear into the garden with you as soon as possible. baby bear spends the early spring planting fruits and veggies with mom, and the late spring/summer when they're ready to harvest in the kitchen with dad. neither of you have strong feelings about baby bear becoming a chef, but you do want her to understand the ritual and special place that food plays in your lives.
hosting big outdoor dinner parties for the whole framily. when she gets a little older, baby bear and baby michael run around while ava goes through her 'too cool for school' phase. any and everyone is invited, and for once, for both carmy and nat, it feels like being a berzatto isn't such a curse.
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napakmahal · 6 months
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HIII, PHONOLOGY HERE !!! in all truth i dont blame u, i was really tired from uni when i wrote that, lmao.
okey so, like misunderstabding in the way he hasnt told hiro and aunt cass and reader thibks its bc tadashi thinks they wont last or is ashamed of her when in reality is just that he is very nervous and never finds the perfect ocassion
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Normal Girl pt. 1
Hey pookie! This took forever but I realized midway through I needed to split it into three parts. Thanks for the request this was fun to make.
You wish you could lay here forever. It was raining and your puffy sheets were cold which would have bothered you if not for the warm body you were resting on top of. Tadashi had been under a great amount of stress. He wanted his doctor title and was the youngest candidate going for it. In order to do that he needed a dissertation of roughly 100-450 pages to defend in front of an academic jury. The paper was done, thank goodness. But he still needed to defend it and even then they could deny him his phD. If he’d spent his week trying to prepare for his defense he’d drive himself insane. So instead, he spent all his time with you. Watching movies, sleeping in, staying up, doing mundane tasks and trying to relax as much as possible before his defense. You’ve never had to refill your anti-stress tea collection and melatonin gummies in one week before.
But the defense was tomorrow and he desperately needed to calm himself. So he went through his presentation twice and then zipped it away in a separate backpack. You pressed your ear to his chest and listened to his breathing and muffled heartbeat. The patterning of the rain on the window going through one ear and the opening and closing of your boyfriend's valves pumping blood through his body in the other.
“I never want to get up.” You admitted.
Tadashi responded sleepily, “I know.” With his eyes shut. Gosh his eyelashes were so long.
“What time is your hearing tomorrow?” You brought your hand up to his face and started caressing it. All the prep work he was doing to defend his thesis had resulted in a lack of care for personal upkeep. He’d started growing stubble (which you found very attractive) but eventually had you help him shave it off to look presentable for his defense. (Something you were clearly upset about)
“10 a.m, I have to be there like two hours early though.”
You just hummed in response and continued to lay in his bare chest in silence. You’d gotten to the point where you could just be together like that without it being inherently sexual. On your nightstand, your phone buzzes and vibrates through the wood. When you checked, it was your mom. She sent you a photo of a four leaf clover she found in her garden with the text: Look what I found!
You knew she was wishing Tadashi good luck. Once while visiting her he’d let it slip that he wanted to be Dr. Hamada , and your mom actually squealed. She’d known him as long as you two had been together and she’d rather make sure he was fed before you were. She was proud of him.
“Look what my mom sent.” You smiled, pointing the phone towards your boyfriend's face.
Tadashi opened his eyes and instantly smiled. He took the phone from your hands and sent your mom a voice recording thanking her for all her support (and free Printer ink).
“She loves you so much,” you smiled and kissed his lips. “She really is my mother.”
Tadashi cupped her hands around your head and smiled at you. “Yes she is, pretty girl.”
You stayed that way while Tadashi whispered sweet nothings into your ears as the sky started to get darker and he had to leave. Aunt Cass was insistent that he spend that last night before his defense hearing back at home so she could make him sweet potato for good luck. He leaned over your bed and slipped his shirt back over his head and pulled his pants over his boxers.
You got up out of bed and slipped an oversized shirt over yourself and walked him out the door.
“Good luck, baby, I love you, my smart boy.” You buried your face in his neck with a hug.
Tadashi dug his face into your head and kissed the tops of it. “Thank you, darling . I love you too.”
“I’ll come pick you up tomorrow and take you out, wherever you want.” You promised.
Tadashi shrugged into the hug. “They may not approve my defense, you know?”
“If they don’t they’re morons but that still doesn’t matter. Because you worked so hard and deserve so much, right?”
Tadashi’s unrelenting and slightly irritating humbleness drove you truly mad sometimes. He had the work ethic of a mule and a brain like Berkeley. Everyone knew it but if you pointed it out he’d just say “oh, thank you but I’m not all that”. Not even in a pick me way. And you were determined to get his confidence up.
He just nodded, dropping his head into your shoulder while you combed your fingers through his dark hair.
“Right?” You repeat.
“Right.” He confirmed.
You gave him one last forehead kiss and sent him off the drive home. After he left you went to your kitchen and started cleaning what little appliances you had after not leaving your room with your boyfriend for nearly a week. Once the kitchen was clean you needed to shower and change your clothes. Showering with another person is not exactly the epitome of cleanliness, not that you’ve only been showering with Tadashi for the past week….. When you headed back to your room dripping wet you kicked something laying on the floor.
It’s Tadashi’s backpack. With his defense inside.
———————————————————————
Tadashi is very clean. He doesn’t like messy anything, his room remains clean and his schedule is so organized to the point it was more of a battle plan than a timeline. So this was not only out of character but IMPOSSIBLE.
Hiro was watching in horror as Tadashi wrecked the entire car and dumped every item of clothing in his overnight bag out onto the floor.
“What is happening?” Hiro asked, completely baffled.
Tadashi diddnt respond and continued to mutter under his breath “where the fuck is it?”
It wasn’t until Aunt Cass walked out back to the absolute wreck with a small bowl of sweet potatoes and matcha on a tray that he looked up from the wreckage.
“Auntie, have you seen my defense?!” Tadashi's voice dripped with desperation.
Before Aunt Cass could even answer Hiro practically screamed, “YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING DEFENSE?!”
“Hiro! Language!” Aunt Cass slapped him in the back of the head. “But seriously, Tadashi! What happened to it?”
Tadashi squeezed onto his hair so tightly it looked like he might rip a chunk of it out. “I don’t know! I had it ,I know I did!”
Silence between the three until Hiro perked up. “Wait, you have a copy of it on my computer. Just reprint it. I think the print room at the lab closes at 10, if you rush you can make it.”
Tadashi didn’t need to be told twice. He ran upstairs, sent the document of his defense to the schools Printer email, and texted Wasabi to ask him to stand at the printer so the techs didn’t shut down the printers for the night. And he was off, speeding over the speed limit (by two miles per hour) and headed to the school.
Unknowing to him you were making your way to his house to drop off his defense. You could have just called him to come get it but he didn’t need any additional stress including driving.
You’d only been to Tadashi’s house once and it was when there was nobody home. You just needed to use the bathroom and his house was closest. But you knew about his little brother and his aunt and about how he lost his parents when he was young. How could you forget? The way he talked about them made you cry harder than him.
When you pulled up to the front of the cafè the lights were mostly off except those coming from the kitchen. You swung the backpack over your shoulder and headed towards the door. A small bell above the door jingled and prompted a woman to walk out with a tray of dirty coffee cups on them.
“Oh, I’m sorry we’re closed.” She apologized.
You waved your hand and held up the backpack. “Oh no, I’m not here to order anything. I just have Tadashi’s defense.”
Hiro poked his head out the curtain after hearing the word “defense” to see you standing at the entrance with his brothers backpack.
“Oh! Okay, Hiro tell Tadashi that he can turn around.” She told him.
You handed your boyfriends aunt the backpack when she asked, “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”
“Y/n,” You smiled.
But the smile completely faded when Tadashi’s aunt turned around to look at his brother with a “have you ever met her before” look. Hiro shook his head before calling his brother telling him to turn around.
You added with uncertainty, “I’m…Tadashi’s girlfriend.”
Hiro pulled the phone away from his ear and perked up. “Tadashi has a girlfriend?”
The entire cafè went silent. They didn’t know? You’d never met them before but they didn’t even recognize your name? Who the hell did they think Tadashi was spending his entire week with? Who did they think he FaceTimed in his room at midnight pretty much every day? Either Tadashi’s family had the memory of a goldfish or….your boyfriend lied. Not just about you but your existence as a whole. The girl he said he loved.
You just nodded and let that sink in. You could see the collective “oh shit” look in your boyfriends family’s faces as they tried to salvage it by saying things like “you know your name does sound familiar” but it didn’t matter. Nothing anyone who wasn’t your boyfriend explaining himself was going to change how you felt.
Around that time an engine pulled up the front of the cafè and switched off. Tadashi had turned around and came back home. When he opened the door it was like the aroma of awkward bitch slapped his psyche across the face.
“Hey, hunny.” He whispered and brushed his thumb against your skin. “Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver. I love you.”
You didn’t respond. Only wished everyone a good night and left. Hiro looked at his brother with a look the read “what the fuck?” And Aunt Cass looked at her nephew with a look of “what did you do?”
Fun fact about Tadashi: he can take a hint and read social cues. So he ran outside in the cold and chased octet you right as you were about to get into your car.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He grabbed your wrist.
You looked at him with daggers in your eyes. “They don’t know who I am?”
Tadashi looked like he was going to puke. And you were having none of it.
“My mother invited you to her graduation, and you went to my cousins wedding. And your family does know who I am!” Now you were yelling. Tadashi’s neighbors were getting dinner and a show.
When he didn’t respond you forced yourself to ask the question that had been lingering in your head. “ Are you…are you like—ashamed of me?”
“No! Never!” Tadashi shouted back at you.
“Then how come they don’t know who I am!” You shouted.
Tadashi rubbed his temples. “I have mentioned you before, back when we were still just talking. But it’s not something we do! It’s just not! Every once in a blue moon they’ll check up on my romantic life but that’s it. Hiro liked a boy for five months before I even knew his name! When my aunt goes on dates she doesn’t tell us their names. It’s just not us! That’s all!”
It made sense. You know it did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Tadashi grabbed onto your face and pressed kisses all over it. “I love you, I swear I do. Nothing you do will ever make me ashamed of you. You mean the world to me, please believe me.”
You grabbed his hand and gently removed it from your face as you started kissing his hand and his wrist. Your kisses trailed up his arm and onto his face until you gave him one last forehead kiss.
“Good luck, tomorrow.” And you hopped back in your car and drove off. Leaving tadashi standing there in the streetlight surrounded by urban darkness. And with every tire rotation away from him, Tadashi’s heart broke a little more until it eventually snapped when he could no longer see your car.
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queerponcho · 3 months
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Please
A/N: Hi hello, girlies!! I am back from my lil break hehe. I've been working alot and organising my shit and i finallz have time to post smth again ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ This is just a little oneshot I really enjoyed writing hehe<3
moonknight x f!reader
warnings: sexual tension, first person perspective, the tension could be cut with a butterknife lmao
1700 words
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“Are you serious??” I ask my mom incredulously. “You’re really gonna make us sleep apart?? We aren’t the ones getting married! I thought this rule only applied for the groom and bride?” we had barely stepped into the house and the stressed energy was messing up our newly engaged mood. Of course we haven’t told anyone about the engagement due to the focus being on my sister. I didn’t want to take any of the focus off of her but it was really hard to keep it for myself. I love the boys and I would kill for a chance to show off the pretty crescent shaped yellow diamond-ring they had got me. It’s so beautiful and I’d have never taken it off if it wasn't so obviously an engagement-ring. 
“Oh honey, you’re gonna be fine! Please just do this- for your sister? It’s only for three nights-”, “Three nights????” I whisper-yelled. My mom and I were in the study and were tryna keep our voices down since Marc was in the kitchen with the groom and my dad. My sister was somewhere ticking off last-minute tasks with her bridesmaids. I would be with her right now if I hadn't just flown in from london…I am secretly kindof glad to be home first though. I had talked with her on the phone before coming here and she sounded really stressed. As soon as she gets here I won’t be able to leave her side. Arriving early provides me with sufficient time to show my boys around the neighbourhood and my childhood-home. 
“Ay mija porfavor! It's three damn nights! Stop behaving like a teenager and make a sacrifice for your sister. Por dios…” without waiting for my answer she makes a swift exit out the door making sure to avoid looking at me so I can’t keep the dispute going. She certainly knew how to end an argument. 
I follow her to the kitchen, wiping the pissed off expression off my face before anyone can spot it. As I enter I see the beautifully tanned, dimpled face I love so much doing his absolute best to keep up small-talk with the future husband of my anxiety-riddled sister. He sees me and his eyes immediately hone in on me, practically begging me to save him from the current discussion about the latest tennis match. I decide to grant him his wish and slide over to his side of the kitchen island, my arm circles around his waist and I tighten my grip on him and smile when he completely gives me his full attention. 
“Hi baby” I say with a sweet smile and turn to the groom to properly say hello and take the lead on the casual conversation. Marc moves me in front of him swiftly and circles both his arms around my waist, he quickly kisses my temple and continues to listen in on the conversation, once more taking his favoured role as a spectator. 
The polite conversation is cut short by a nervous call from a bridesmaid to the groom. Apparently they needed a last minute decision on the song since the artist of the initial choice had been cancelled a few days before. 
Marc and I quickly made our way up the stairs to my room so I could fill him in on the “separate bedroom”- Situation. “So this is where you had all your awkward phases, huh?” “Excuse me? I never had awkward phases. I have definitely never ever worn 4 layers of ripped tights thinking I had made a huge fashion discovery, nah- never…” 
“Mhm okay- seems like a really specific example, cariño” Jake moves behind me and softly kisses my neck, littering quick gentle kisses all over. “Amor- profa. The door- my mom” Right on cue I hear my moms platform house-shoes make their way down the hall. I push Jake off of me and he stumbles into the dresser completely bewildered by my actions. “Niña!! ¿Dónde estás? Your sister needs you!” I lean out the door to answer. “Okay mom! Just lemme change out of these clothes!” “¡Pero ponte las pilas!” “¡¡Ay ya mamà!! I’m coming!!” I yell back as I hear her walk back down the steps. 
I take a frustrated breath and turn to my luggage to unpack it as quickly as I can, desperate to find an outfit that is cute but also comfortable in case I wanna fall asleep in the cab on my way over to my sister. 
“What the hell was that?” oh…oops. “Shit- Jake I am so sorry, I swear- I didn’t think- are you hurt?” I worriedly reached out to him to check him.
“Physically I’m not, but emotionally I might be” he says in a joking tone, clearly thinking my reaction was more funny than hurtful but he still wanted to know why I’d done it. 
He leans back against the dresser and I move to stand between his legs and reach up to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry baby- It’s just my mom has never really seen me be all like, close with anyone like this. Like, she knew I’d had partners but like, if she met them the most I’d do in front of her is like, hold their hands…I’m sorry I freaked out.” I look down as I tug on my fingers feeling the anxiety crawl up my throat. 
“Ay cariño, it’s alright. Just so you know, I wouldn’t want your mom to see me casually kiss your neck either. We should save that for when the door is closed, okay?” he hugs me back into him and I snuggle into his firm chest and nod.
“About that, you kinda owe us, you know- for body slamming us into the dresser and breaking our ribs and stuff.” 
“Woooooww you’re lying so hard right now. I did not nearly shove you as hard as that.” I giggle 
“Oh? Are you minimising my pain? Bold move for someone that's gonna have to share a bed with me tonight.” he grins and moves his hands down to my ass to give it a firm squeeze, which makes his wolfish grin only worsen.
As he is moving in on my collarbone to lick and kiss it I lose my train of thought. I was gonna say something wasn’t I? There was something important…
He makes his way up and nibbles on my earlobe, biting it and sending a beautiful ache down my spine by doing so.
He moves me backwards until my legs hit my bed and gently lays me down. As he keeps going I feel the sensation of my soft sheets underneath me and I am reminded of a dreadful conversation.
“B-baby- can *mnnh* can you ple-ease sto-p” he lifts his head, his glossed over, hungry eyes piercing into mine as he licks his wet lips. Ugh he is making this so much harder right now. I take a few deep breaths and form the words. “W-we have to sleep in separate rooms-” “he blinks and his deep and sultry voice is quickly replaced by a worried English man. “Whot why??- Did we do something wrong?” he backs away and sits back on his shins. “Nono! No sweetie you-you were perfect. God you were- fucking perfect but my- my mom wants us to sleep separately for the next three nights-”, “three nights????” “i know baby-”, “but we just got back from a mission yesterday- We haven’t spent a night together in like 2 weeks-”, “I know love- But mom she, she insisted. She is saying it’s cuz my sister wants it that way but I'm pretty sure she just doesn't like the thought of me in bed with a man I haven't married. Especially cuz I’m pretty sure my mom has just outright refused to consider that me and my sister might have an active sex-life…” 
“Right and we can’t tell her about our engagement yet…this blows” Marc says exasperatedly and slumps down on the bed.
“I know babe. Let's just do this. It's just three days and then we can head back. And remember we got those first class tickets for our way back…they have those big bathrooms in the firstclass part of the plane…” I look at him and bat my eyelashes and run my hands up his thighs, feeling him tense under my grip.
“Mmh beba, don’t promise things you can’t follow through” Jake rakes his eyes over your face in a dark gaze. “Mmh baby have I ever broken a promise?” I lean forward, resting my weight completely on his thighs, our lips almost touching. Marc looks up at me through his lashes and his usual tense expression melts away at the intensity of me. “...no, you would never” he breathes. I move my head next to his and move towards his ear, my lips ghosting over the shell of it and I can see the goosebumps rising on his neck by the soft contact.
“So, all you have to do…is be patient” I punctuate my statement by softly nibbling at their earlobe. I part away from him and before I can stand up he grabs my wrist. “Oh, luv you can’t expect us to hold through for 3 days without a touch from you or getting at least a little taste of you now and again. It's been weeks- I-” I look at his pleading eyes and before I can say anything he continues. “Look what you do to us-” He pulls my hand and places it on his hard crotch. And oh god was it hard- “by merely being in the same room with you-” he whines and I feel myself pitying Steven and his needy state. He slowly grinds against my palm as I stare at him trying really hard to argue with myself why this can’t continue until I’ve watched him cum at least three times-
“HIJA- WHERE ARE YOU??” I basically lunge myself off the bed and sprint towards the door, throwing my entire weight against it to keep it from being opened. “Coming mami!! Five minutes!” I breathe out from relief when I hear my moms shoes click-clacking down the hall and back down the stairs. I move away from the door and look back at Marc…He looks delicious. His hair; a mess and he is resting on his elbows, his knees spread apart, making it impossible to look away from the bulge protruding through his fitted slacks. “I’m not sure I’ll make it through these three days either, to be honest…”
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a/n: hope you all loved it and stuck around eventhough i haven't been very active lately. love you guys and pls like, comment, reblog if you liked it!! I love getting to read your reactions and feedback<33
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I saw you did a similar request as my last one so you can let that one slide if you wish !!
I also had this idea of how Tom would react to his s/o (preferably another artist) getting super mad at the paparazzi
(hello! Sorry if this is bad, I wrote it in the car lmao. But, enjoy!)
Give Them a Headline
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Tom hadn't been with you when you went off on them
It was usually Bill with you the few times you did
The first was when you guys had just started getting popular
You guys were kids
Who had just finished a set late at night and needed sleep
And paparazzi would not stop bothering you and Bill
One even tried grabbing Bill
It was a pretty young woman who grabbed him and shoved a mic and camera in his face
Bill couldn't even talk and was blinded as everyone crowded you guys
Security was trying to get them away but could only do so much
So you took it in your hands to clock the bitch and her camera
Bill was happy you helped him but was shocked
Tom only heard about it because it ended up in tabloids across the web
Other times you yelled at paparazzi
As you got older and it kept happening, people thought you were rude and aggresive
But others understood you guys were kids and needed privacy
Tom didn't think about what would happen if he was ever there with you when hat happened
Until it actually did happen
"Oh my fucking, god. Move!" You yelled out the window to the paparazzi, getting a laugh out of Tom as you guys tried getting home.
"Relax, we'll get out soon enough." Tom tried to reassure you, his hand in your thigh as you scoffed at the people with cameras.
"It's dumb, they got their pictures, we're trying to get to her hotel." You explained, barely giving him a glance before a camera man jumped in front of the car, almost on the hood.
"Are you kidding me?" Tom scoffed at him before he was shoved aside as you laid your hand on the horn, and hard.
The man jumped off the hood out of shock as you flipped him off.
"You're gonna end up in another tabloid." Tom said, amused and understanding about your actions.
"I don't give a shit, I want to sleep." You sighed, rubbing your temple as Tom sighed, squeezing your thigh for comfort as he tried to maneuver out of the maze of people.
It didn't seem to stop, camera men and women with mics all kept following the car. Even fans from the concert yelled and followed the car.
"Go, go, go!" You yelled, pointing to an opening as Tom tried to floor it.
"Seriously?!" You yelled again when they blocked that exit, again.
"Go away!" You yelled at the window as they came up to your guy's windows, shoving cameras as they flashed into the cracks.
You could barely see, shielding your eyes with your hand.
"(Name)! Tom! Just a few questions!" A woman yelled, somehow getting her mic through the slit in the window.
"Oh, fuck this." You muttered, Tom was barely able to look and see as you grabbed the car door handle and shoved the door open.
"(Name)! Get back in!" Tom yelled as he saw you use the door to shove the woman back, getting out effectively and yelling at her.
Tom couldn't hear the obscenities, but he could tell what they were from the looks on the others' faces.
"Shit, shit…" Tom muttered, getting out to follow quickly as he moved to your side of the car to get you back in.
"Get the fuck out of our way! Don't you have anything better to do than harass people half your age?!"
You yelled at the adults, covering their cameras and throwing the mics they shoved in your face away from you.
"Yo! Get in the car." Tom tried to get you back in the car, not that he wasn't enjoying it, he just didn't feel like dealing with angry internet trolls.
"Get this shit out of my face!" You grabbed a camera, one that a man got too close to you, throwing it and yelling at the guy.
"(Name)!" Tom laughed, it slipped out as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist, using the other to open the car door.
"Get in." Tom said, still laughing before he stopped as you grabbed a cup from the cup holder and threw it at the woman who shoved the mic in the window.
"What the hell, kid?!" The woman yelled, now doused in sticky soda.
"Get a fucking life!" You yelled as Tom now used both of his arms to get you in the car, closing the door quickly and going back to the driver side.
He got in the best he could without hitting people out of his way, slipping in the seat fast enough to see you flipping off paparazzi.
You honked the horn loudly as Tom drove, effectively scaring them out of the way not to be fun over.
It wasn't long before you guys got out of there, you breathed heavily as Tom drove.
Tom then couldn't help the laugh that slipped out, getting your attention.
"What?" You snapped, more annoyed at the paparazzi than him.
"You're a piece of work." Tom joked, his laugh now getting a little one out of you.
"They're tiring, I wanna go to the hotel and sleep." You explained, settling into the seat.
"Maybe you should do that more often. Her face was hilarious." Tom nodded, a smirk on his face as he leaned over to kiss your neck lightly.
You smiled, kissing his cheek when he pulled back before settling back in, his hand back on your thigh.
"Might as well give them the fucking headline."
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