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#it's fine if that's how you want to do it
luveline · 3 days
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hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!
thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k
You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?
You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 
“You okay?” 
You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 
Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 
“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 
“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 
You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 
You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 
Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 
“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.
“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 
Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 
“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 
You close your eyes. 
“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 
“Your hand is so big…” 
“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 
“Prove it.” 
He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 
Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 
“You’re teasing me,” you say. 
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 
“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 
“You look startled,” he murmurs. 
“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 
“I have?” 
“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 
“At what?” 
“Flirting.” 
“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 
“Is there something wrong with me?” 
“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 
“I’ve hit my head.” 
“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 
“You’ve hit your head.” 
He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 
“You’re kissing me.” 
He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 
“Would you want to do it again?” 
Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 
Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 
“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 
“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 
He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 
He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 
“You really love me?” 
He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 
“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  
“Well, is there much else to remember?” 
You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 
“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 
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fuckingrecipes · 1 day
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How the heck do you bake with cold butter? Doesn’t it just sit there and not mix with anything? I can never get it to do what I think the recipe wants it to do.
Cold butter DOESN't incorporate fully into the batter, and that's the point.
Unmelted, hard butter creates little layers and pockets throughout the dough, and those pockets of butter create steam when it melts in the oven to make fluffy moist pockets of air. It's used often in scones, flaky pie crust, biscuits, and especially croissants.
Those recipes often also recommend you put the dough into the fridge, to really cool it off and KEEP the butter cold before baking it. This firms up the dough's texture, and it's less likely to spread out as much, compared to a dough that's baked starting at room temp.
Pie doughs particularly, may even ask for freezer-cold dough. This is essential for very fine flakes that are defined enough to HOLD UP to a filling being put on top of it.
Croissants are very well-known for their super flaky interiors.
This is achieved by rolling dough flat, making a sheet of cold butter and then folding the dough and sheet several times, rolling it out so it forms many thin layers of cold butter, between the dough. It can become a multi-day process because you have to regularly chill the dough to keep the butter from warming up too much.
--
Most recipes will say you need to dice the cold butter, slice it into sheets, or warm it to just barely cooler than room temp so you can smush into a shape (like the croissant's butter-sheet), then chill again to be cold.
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novelbear · 1 day
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"maybe you'll feel it, too" -best friends to lovers prompts
a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ
lingering hugs and stares
"you know i'm always going to be there for you, right? always."
compliments that are borderline (sometimes just blatant) flirting but they cover it up as just being a really supportive friend
^ "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell..."
being overly protective of the other (especially when it comes to relationships)
showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them (ex. kissing each other on the cheek/ hands)
hand placement when hugging or guiding them also being a little more on the questionable side
"i'm always thinking about you."
being unable to tear their eyes off of them, especially when watching them excel at something they're best at
sharing clothes
"why are you looking at me like that?"
unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around
"there's no one else that makes me laugh the way you do."
noticing them blushing coincidentally after making a comment. but they can't be blushing because of what they said. they wouldn't. would they? no, of course not...right?
holding hands and neither of them knowing when (or wanting to) let go
when that realization hits that they really wouldn't rather spend their time with anyone else the way they do with their "best friend"
rambling on and on and on and wait are they looking at my eyes or my lips?
"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."
"can i kiss you?" "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you ask that."
the relief that washes over both of them when the feelings are finally out there
"why didn't you tell me?" "the same reason you didn't tell me. i didn't want to lose you."
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fairyhaos · 2 days
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◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan
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jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words
tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions
warnings: light swearing
summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.
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It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 
“Who is this and what do you want?”
“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”
He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 
“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”
“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”
Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”
You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”
“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”
There’s a pause.
“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”
Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 
“You know me so well.”
“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”
“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”
Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”
You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.
“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”
───────────── 🌘
Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.
Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 
It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 
So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 
It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.
But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.
“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 
It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 
Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”
Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 
“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”
“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”
“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”
“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”
Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 
“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”
You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”
“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”
It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 
He isn't. 
“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”
“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”
“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”
Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”
You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.
 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 
“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”
Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 
He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 
“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.
Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.
“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.
“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”
“Um, lies.”
“No lies. You literally love me so much.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”
Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.
“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”
“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”
“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”
“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.
And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.
Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.
It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.
“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”
There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.
“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.
You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.
Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.
It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.
More.
These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.
“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”
Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.
“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit
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I'd Answer
You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.
Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask
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“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 
“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.
Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 
“Not particularly.” 
Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 
The third sigh was your breaking point. 
You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 
“Oh, well in that case—” 
“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”
You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 
Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 
“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 
You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 
The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”
You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 
When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 
Mor trailed off. 
Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 
Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 
“Tell me anyways.” 
“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.
“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 
A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 
“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 
Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 
You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 
Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 
But it was this. 
It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 
“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 
Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 
It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 
Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 
You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  
Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 
“Hi.” 
Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 
You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 
Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 
“No, I—Come in.” 
You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 
“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 
Something inside of you hurt. 
“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 
Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 
“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 
“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”
“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 
“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 
Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 
“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 
“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 
“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 
“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 
“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 
Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 
You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 
He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 
Gods, you missed him. 
You missed him and everything hurt. 
“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”
The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 
“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”
Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 
“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 
“You can, angel.” 
“I need to know that you love me.” 
A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 
“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”
You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 
“I’m going to keep you safe.”
“I am safe.” 
“I love you.” 
"I know you do, Az. I know."
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harrysfolklore · 2 days
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Imagine max x driver!reader with the whole fia and swearing situation they’d be such a power couple. Manifesting more max fics!! I love all your work esp little bitch and honorary wag💓
okay this is teeeny tiny piece but i just had tooo. max is too iconic
You're sitting beside Max, your boyfriend and teammate, in the press conference room after the qualifying session in Singapore. The air feels thick with humidity and tension, though most of the tension is radiating off Max.
His latest penalty from the FIA—a fine and community service for swearing —has him fuming. He made it very clear on the way in that he wasn’t going to play nice. Today was going to be a day of vague, shady responses, and you were more than happy to back him up.
The moderator starts with the usual question for Max about how he felt securing P2.
“It was fine,” Max replies, voice completely flat. No elaboration, no typical analysis. Just that.
The reporter stares at him, clearly expecting more, but Max leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as if daring anyone to push him further.
To your right, Lando is barely holding it together, his mouth twitching as he watches the whole scene unfold. You catch his eye and he shoots you a look like, Is this real?
The next question is directed at you. Something predictable about how you’re feeling being P3, your thoughts on tomorrow’s race strategy.
“Well,” you start, raising an eyebrow, “I guess the plan is… to go fast and not crash.”
There’s an awkward silence in the room, the journalist blinking at you as if he didn’t hear you correctly. Lando makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a cough, struggling to contain himself as you sit there, completely straight-faced.
“And the tire strategy?” the moderator presses, trying to steer things back into something vaguely professional.
“Use them until they wear out, I suppose.” You lean back in your chair, mimicking Max’s posture, crossing your legs casually as if you’ve just given a perfectly reasonable answer. Max looks at you with a cocky and proud smile, you discretely wink at him.
"Max, can you elaborate on your car's performance today?" another reporter tries.
Max tilts his head, considering for a moment. "It went forward when I pushed the pedal, and stopped when I hit the brakes. Very efficient, really."
You can't help but smirk at his response, and you notice Lando has given up on maintaining composure, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
The moderator, looking increasingly uncomfortable, turns to you again. "YN, how do you feel about potentially challenging your teammate for position tomorrow?"
You lean forward, adopting a serious expression. "Well, I've been told it's important to keep things clean on track. Wouldn't want to use any… inappropriate maneuvers."
"Absolutely. We're all about clean racing now. Very family-friendly." Max adds
The reporters exchange glances, clearly unsure how to handle this united front of sarcasm and vague responses. Lando, meanwhile, has resorted to covering his face with his hands, his shoulders visibly shaking with suppressed laughter.
As the press conference draws to a close, you and Max stand up together, your body language mirroring each other's. Before leaving, you turn to the room with a final statement:
"Just want to thank everyone for their thoughtful questions today. This has been a very enlightening experience. Almost as enlightening as some recent FIA decisions."
As you exit the room, hand in hand with Max, you can hear the burst of chatter from the journalists behind you, no doubt trying to decipher the subtext of your responses. Lando catches up with you in the hallway, finally letting out the laugh he's been holding in.
"You two are unbelievable," he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "I thought I was going to lose it in there!"
Max grins, his earlier tension now replaced with a sense of satisfaction. "Well, we aim to entertain," he says, giving your hand a squeeze.
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 days
Text
Shameless
Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy
Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.
An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.
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Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.
Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.
Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.
Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"
That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.
Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.
*** *** ***
Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.
Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.
It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.
"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.
"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.
Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.
"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.
Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.
You still spent that shit though.
*** *** ***
Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.
He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.
You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.
A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.
Oh.
Oh.
The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.
So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.
He called your number. He had to make things right.
"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.
"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"
"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.
"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.
"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.
"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.
"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"
"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.
"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".
234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.
The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.
*** *** ***
It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.
You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.
Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.
A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.
Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.
"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.
"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.
"You're home early." You stated the obvious.
Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.
"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.
"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.
"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."
Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.
While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.
You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.
*** *** ***
"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.
Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.
His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.
He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.
After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.
He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.
He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.
Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.
Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.
"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.
"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.
"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.
You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.
"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."
Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?
It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.
"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.
He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.
He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.
You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.
"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.
"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.
"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.
"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.
"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.
He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.
There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.
"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.
*** *** ***
"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."
"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.
"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."
"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.
"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.
*** *** ***
That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.
"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.
Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.
Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.
Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.
"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.
"Mama." He said, pointing at you.
"No-"
"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.
"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.
"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.
After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.
"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.
"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.
"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.
"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.
You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."
"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."
The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.
Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.
"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.
Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby
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dekuneho · 3 days
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late evenings ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive
Your ears ring from the absence of noise as you shut your room door behind you. The static buzz of the electric fan is barely a reprieve — it's pin-silent and unnerving, bereft of light and life.
"C'mere," a voice rasps out, shattering the quiet.
Instantly, your nerves settle at the familiarity of your boyfriend's timbre. Your eyes are still straining in the unilluminated room, but with the slivers of dappled moonlight, it's easier to piece in how Katsuki is taking up the room. On your bed for two.
It's cold as you breeze to him, your skin still quivering from that fresh shower, smelling of Katsuki's shampoo and your favorite body scrub. But it's warmer as you snuggle up to him on the sheets, his arms swiftly pulling you closer by the waist. Every tension you've been keeping wounded tight releases all at once. Katsuki's leg throws itself over your hip like you're a walking body pillow.
"You're late," he says.
"I have a curfew?"
"Idiot." Katsuki still looks displeased. "Did you even eat?"
You nose his collar, smiling in that secret giddy way whenever Katsuki makes you feel so warm and cared for. "Mm. Saw the plate you prepared for me. Little cold."
Katsuki flicks at the exposed skin by your hip. "Don't complain. Your fault for working overtime."
"Missed you, too, Katsuki," you say with great forbearance, languidly pushing off just enough to catch his expression.
In the filtered light, you can make out how Katsuki's still got that cute scrunch of pale brows. His eyes are stark red, watching. You wait patiently — he looks like that when he wants something.
A shiver lances up your spine as Katsuki's fingers brush over the nape of your neck. His skin there is cold from the chill of your legs and the room, compared to the heat that's rushed to your face and everywhere around it whenever you're around Katsuki.
"Cold," you say, wincing away.
Katsuki keeps you still. "Warm it up then."
He really did miss you. It's just his dick seems to have missed you more. "…You want to have sex right now?"
Katsuki's head dips in a single nod. To prove his eagerness, he brushes his hip over your leg, where you feel his hardness under his sweatpants like a brick of heat. You swallow in nothing in particular, knowing firsthand how he can do you so well, but sleep is already clawing at you.
"Let's just do it tomorrow," you say, unable to hide your amused smile. "My legs are already sore, Katsuki!"
Katsuki groans in frustration, though his face portrays a kicked puppy more than anything. "Fine," he snarls. "Not tonight. Just ignore my dick suffocating down there, I guess."
"Kinda hard when it's so big."
You laugh when you feel it twitch against your thigh. Katsuki swallows the sound up with a searing kiss in retaliation, and your giggles melt easily into sounds of pleasure. Katsuki's cold hands travel up your spine, but they don't do anything else, warming itself up on the blossoming warmth there.
Katsuki breaks away, muttering, "Don't complain when I wake you up."
"What? To you humping me like a dog?" You kiss his scrunched nose. "Tomorrow; it'll feel so much better tomorrow. I’ll make you feel good."
Katsuki jerks away. "Fuck you, stop saying sexy shit!"
A laugh bubbles out of you again. Katsuki's face softens nearly imperceptibly.
He shifts until your face is buried under his chin — to hide his expression, maybe, but you have no complaints surrounded by his scent. With this, it's impossible to resist the call of sleep. You're dead to the world when Katsuki's fingers trace mindless circles by your waist, but you don’t miss how Katsuki sneaks in a kiss to your forehead before you go.
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fumiliar · 2 days
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self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.
your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.
"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.
kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.
"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.
"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.
"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.
"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"
"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.
"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.
"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.
"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.
"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.
"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.
"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.
restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.
"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.
"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.
"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.
"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.
"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.
"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.
"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.
"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.
"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."
kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.
"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.
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strwberri-milk · 2 days
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Can you the lad men but if you found them crying instead?
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Zayne didn't realise he was crying until you gently brush your thumbs against his cheek. You wipe away his tears tenderly, asking if he's alright. He leans into your touch and nods, telling you that everything's fine now that you're here with him.
He doesn't really want to talk about what's happening with him. He hates the idea of burdening you but he'll let you force him to rest, wordlessly grabbing your wrist to keep you close to him. Your comfort is all he wants in this moment even if he doesn't really know how to go about asking you.
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Xavier doesn't cry really either so you're not sure what to do when you see him sitting on the couch crying quietly to himself. You watch him wipe his tears for a bit, trying to gauge when the best time to interrupt him would be. He notices you at the door and quickly tries to straighten out, sniffling quietly as he tells you to come sit with him.
He doesn't say anything to you about what you saw but when you pull him against your chest you feel him heave a sigh, practically burying his chest into your face as he grounds himself against your body, tightening his grip around your waist without realising it. You don't push him to talk - you just want to let him feel whatever it is he's feeling.
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Rafayel was locked in his studio for longer than usual and you finally got the nerve to come check up on him. He's standing by the window, gazing out at the see with that forlorn expression you've rarely seen on his face.
He barely acknowledges your presence but you see the trails of tears streaming down his face, coming up to hug him from behind. He clasps a hand over yours, sighing a little as he turns to face you, burying your face into his neck as he mutters something you can barely understand.
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Sylus' tears were definitely not something you were expecting to walk in on. He doesn't seem angry that you've walked in on him, just gesturing for you to close the door as he swipes his tears away.
You stay silent for a while before finally deciding to crawl into his lap, letting him cradle you against his body as his hand gently holds your face. He admires you for a little bit before thanking you softly, continuing to gently run his hands over your body.
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luveline · 2 days
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hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 
You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 
It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  
“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 
“Really?” 
“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 
“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 
“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 
“Can I speak to her?” 
You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 
“Lay back,” he says. 
Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 
“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 
You laugh. He peeks up at you. 
“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 
“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 
“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 
“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 
The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 
“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 
You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 
“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m talking to your sister.” 
Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 
“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 
“Can I?” 
“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 
Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 
���What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 
“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 
“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 
He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 
Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 
“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 
You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 
Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 
“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 
“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 
Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 
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hxney-lemcn · 3 days
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Time for a Break — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summery: it's the end of the year and you have nowhere to go...
tw: slight angst (Riddle, Idia, Malleus)
wc: 1.7k (~230 per character)
Master List
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With nonstop overblots, exams, homework, studying, and keeping your friends in line, you hadn’t even realized that the end of the year was approaching rapidly. You could barely take in your end of the year grades before coming face to face with the fact that you have nowhere to go while everyone gets a summer break. Didn’t you deserve a break too? You felt like you were going to collapse and evaporate if you didn’t sleep in a bed that doesn’t have lumps. In a fit of despair, you go to the only person you can think of.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay…so you are not allowed to come home with him. His reason for saying no is vastly different from his mothers reason. He doesn’t want to cause you any more stress, or have to hear his mother’s insults that she’ll inevitably spout towards you. No, instead he helps you ask Trey. Although Trey’s home already is a full house, his family welcomes you with open arms. All his siblings overcrowd you (no matter how much Trey tries to stop them), his parents ask many questions to get to know you better, and you end up sharing a room with Trey. All the while, you can’t help but think about Riddle, wishing you could find a way to get him out of his own personal hell. Over time, you and Trey visit Riddle, your only meetings being through his window. Every so often you’d bring Riddle a sweet treat that you learned how to bake either from Trey or his parents. As much as you enjoy having a break with such a lovely family, you can’t help wanting for the next school year to happen. Not for the school work, or the overblots (hopefully there won’t be any the upcoming year), but because you’ll get to see Riddle again, not through a window or with hushed whispers. But in person, speaking to each other freely once more. 
Leona Kingscholar
When you hinted about not having anywhere to go, hoping that the lion would take the bait and let you stay with him, he just ignored you. Didn’t even pretend to act like he was listening to you. Squinting your eyes, you stood up from his bed, announcing that Malleus might be willing to take you in…you couldn’t get far before Leona grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and holding you close. Who said you could go and stay with that overgrown lizard? Wasn’t it obvious you were staying with him? You were scared of meeting his family, they were royalty and Leona had spoken bad of them. You had met his nephew, and little did you know that the boy had talked his parents ear off about you and Leona for a day before finding a new topic. Leona’s brother and sister in law welcomed you to their palace with open arms, greeting you warmly before excusing themselves. It was a bit to get used to, trying new foods, sleeping in a bed that was way too luxurious, being treated like royalty, becoming a nanny…yeah. You now realized one of the reasons why Leona dreaded coming back. As much as you adored Cheka…he could be a bit much. Overall, it's not the worst place to stay, but it would feel a bit lonely without Leona or Cheka around. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Oh boy…were you both that far in your relationship already? No? He’s just overthinking it? Okay, this was fine. He was a host after all, and he did owe you for basically saving his life…and being the one he loved. His only problem? His mother. As much as Azul loved his mother…he could not have her sharing his baby photos with you. He’ll have to work overtime over the summer to make sure that doesn’t happen (who is he kidding he can’t say no to his mom). How are you going to stay entire months under water? Who do you think he is? He’s got stocks of underwater breathing potions. When you meet his parents, you don’t have time to think before you’re swooped into a giant hug (probably the best damn hug you’ll ever get too). Then Azul is added to the hug and you're both being squished together. His mother loves you instantly, cooing over you both, feeding you some of the best food you’ve ever had while telling you embarrassing stories of Azul when he was just a little fry. Once again, you start seeing him in a new light, a much softer and loving one. He always tried to show you his gentlemanly and suave side, keeping just how soft of a person he was locked deep down, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.
Kalim Al-Asim
What do you mean you have nowhere to go? Weren’t you coming to his place? He would be honored to have you as a guest! Just think of all the sleepovers, dates, game nights, and kisses! Actually, he might’ve gone crazy if he was away from you for such a long time. Kalim’s family doesn’t mind either, they don’t even notice one more person in their extravagant palace. Instead of just being swarmed with siblings, you’ve got cousins and distant relatives around you as well. They have both good and bad intentions, some scheming on how to get closer to Kalim, and others scheming on how to get you to play hide and seek. Kalim is practically bouncing off the walls as he drags you down the halls on his grandiose tour. Laughing heartily over the feast his family calls dinner, then taking you on a breathtaking carpet ride above the Scalding Sands. Each day is a different adventure, and Kalim is the one leading you hand in hand into what awaits you both. Poor Jamil, Kalim only got ten times more impulsive as he tries to show you everything he loves (and buy you anything you eye for a second too long). Also…you are in a bit of danger being seen in public so close to Kalim and with how he shows how much he cares about you…
Vil Schoenheit
Do you think he’d let you stay at Night Raven College for months on end without supervision? You’re crazy. Just be prepared to be in a giant mansion alone for a bit. Vil goes without seeing his father for weeks on end, and he himself has a busy schedule. He’d love to take you with him, but unfortunately the media is as savage as a pack of wolves and would shred you apart without second thought. You didn’t mind too much, as long as you could get away from school for just a minute. With those warnings in mind, you were surprised to be greeted by servants taking your luggage to a spare room (right next to Vil’s) then being treated to a fantastic dinner with Eric, Vil’s father joining you two. Even Vil seemed surprised, asking his father about his latest movie. Eric only laughed, stating that he wanted to meet the person who caught his son's attention. You never felt too alone in the mansion, you’d get ready in the morning with Vil, seeing him off, doing your own thing for the day, and ending the night with a home prepared meal or going out to eat if Vil was feeling extra. On his days off, Vil would take you out, sometimes it would be to a spa, going shopping, or you forcing him to take a break and relax at home and watch some movies. You don’t think you could go back to that wack job of a school after getting a taste of luxury.
Idia Shroud
What. You want to go home with him? You do know where he lives right? You’d be totally isolated from all your other friends…you still want to come home with him? He supposes Ortho would be happy to have you around…fine, he just doesn’t like how excited his parents get when he asks for permission (after all he lives in a very secret location). He’s a bit overwhelmed at first, it seems like such an intimate scenario. You’re going to be living with him in the same house in a super secret base in the middle of nowhere. When you arrive, Idia tries not to shove you into his room and lock the door because his parents are non stop pestering you. Asking you about how you met Idia, how he was doing, and about you and your world. Thankfully for Idia, they had to rush back to work quickly, giving you a warm welcome and telling you to ask for anything if need be. To your surprise, Idia watched you like a hawk (and that’s the times you knew of). S.T.Y.X. was a dangerous place, and he’d be damned if he lost you like he lost Ortho. Be prepared to be trapped in a room lit with blue led lights and playing video games and watching anime until you feel your brain melting. Please bring some vitamin D…you’re not going to get enough sunlight. 
Malleus Draconia
Don’t worry child of man, he already has a room in his palace ready for you. Do you really think he was going to let you stay all alone (with Grim but okay) at Night Raven College? Of course not. You’re his precious child of man, he’ll make sure you get nothing but the best. Of course…he had to make sure his grandmother warmed up to you. You are a human after all, and she hasn’t had the best experience with them. Not to mention how his people will view him for bringing a commoner human into the castle and given the royal treatment. He doesn’t care. In fact, Malleus didn’t even think of such a thing, not until Sebek brought it up. When you arrived you felt overwhelmed as the servants bowed (you almost forgot that Malleus was standing next to you). He tried staying by your side for as long as he could, but as future king, he had many things to attend to. This left you on your own a bit, and you got acquainted with Maleficia. At first she terrified you, but over time you both warmed up to each other and Malleus found himself jealous with how much time you spent with her compared to him. All the while she found it amusing that her grandson was so hung up on a human…but she also found it heartbreaking. A fae falling for a human never had a happy ending, but she’s glad to know you’d take care of him well.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 days
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just a thought !! but what do u think ‘suki would do if he accidentally hurt reader ? like an elbow to the nose or smth , bc i kid u not that happened with my bf today and he would not leave until i told him i was fine 😭 js thought that katsu wld be an internal emotion wreck ??!
wait i love this omg😭😭tysm for the ask anon this is so cute, your boyfriend sounds like a sweetheart !
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your nose stings.
you don’t really know how it happened, but you ended up getting decked in the nose by your boyfriend. accidentally, of course, said boyfriend would rip his own nails of before even thinking of hurting you. however, said boyfriend was also built out of fucking marble.
so it wouldn’t be surprising to say your nose hurt like a bitch.
“ow, ow, ow !” you whine, katsuki channels through confusion, realization and utter fear in about a millisecond. his hands smack against your face.
“holy—shit ! what the fuck’re y’doin’ ?!” his eyes scan all over your face like he’d shot you, and it honestly almost felt like he did. his hands grip at your cheeks. you wince when he presses his thumb to your nose. “ow—i was jus’ g’nna surprise you—ouch, katsuki !”
you pull your face out of his grip but he pulls you back, “stop squirmin’ an’ let me see.” he mumbles quietly, eyebrows furrowed hard. in focus or anger or worry but probably a mix of all three if you knew anything about him.
“holy fuck, why were you sneakin’ around like that, dummy..” you want to roll your eyes about him still trying to scold you, but the tone of his voice is different then when he usually does. he does sound genuinely worried so you want to reassure him.
“i was just trying to say hello.” you reiterate. “suki, i’m fine. it’s already starting to hurt less.” he ignores you and continues to inspect your face.
“nothin’ broken..” he mumbles to himself, thumbing at your nose a bit softer this time. you manage a snort.
“of course not, jesus, katsuki—”
“you’re okay, yeah ?”
“yes !” you giggle, gripping at his wrists. he pouts, studying your face. “it’s already starting to hurt less.”
he frowns even harder “i elbowed the shit outta you.”
“by accident.” you correct, “katsuki, it’s fine.”
“..you’re sure.”
“i’m sure.” you nod, smiling at him to reinforce your point. he squints, then sighs loudly. leaning in to kiss the bridge of your nose, copying the get better kisses you jokingly give him that he always scoffs at but insist you give him without fault. it hurts a bit, but you feel giddy anyway, your smile grows wider.
“don’t sneak up on me like that again, dummy.” he insists “i mean it.”
you cross your fingers together “promise.” you hum, he scoffs, you don’t think he can muster up a roll of his eyes right now since he can’t seem to be able of taking them away from you. he runs his thumb over your forehead.
“if it starts hurting or something, you tell me.”
“katsuki !” you groan, laughing. katsuki doesn’t look amused. not at all.
he growls “oi, i mean it.”
“i got it, i told you i am fine. you’re okay.” it seems that was the reassurance he needed. that you weren’t mad at him to boot. he exhales, shoulders dropping the slightest bit.
“…...you’re positive ?”
“katsuki, i swear to god—”
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midday-clouds · 3 days
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Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II
Part I
Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!
CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping
You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven
Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax
You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out
It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there
Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible
It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.
But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.
Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?
A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing
You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 
The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 
But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.
It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.
Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 
He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.
Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook
Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 
You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 
But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.
With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 
It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows
Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 
No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.
Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.
The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.
Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your
Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you
You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.
You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path
Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.
Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.
You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 
Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.
Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night
Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again
The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.
Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well
The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea
You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 
Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there
Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least
Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say
Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.
Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags
Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.
It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.
Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you
Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven
You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Hi! I saw that you said requests were open and I have an fic idea
Basically Max Verstappen × Singer!reader, and reader writes some new songs and invites him to spend time in the studio with her on winter break. And while she's recording a song, he realizes it's about his childhood, and she makes sure he's okay with the lyrics before she records it? Leads to a lot of fluff and angst.
(This may or may not be heavily influenced by Billie Eilish's song "Blue" )
Have a great day🥰
this is the shortest of short blurbs bc idk the song and billie eilish (i almost spelt it eyelash jeez man lmao) isn't my thing. just trust me on this one
Warnings: talks of abuse (no details) and trauma (no details)
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Max loved joining her in the studio. He loved sitting there, watching her do her thing. The deal was that he couldn't listen as she was recording (that was fine with Max. He loved watching what she did, loved the dancing she couldn't stop herself from doing as she sang).
Her older music played softly while she streamed. He was the most supportive boyfriend she'd ever had, and she was the same to him. Where he played her music wherever he could to show his support, she wore her 33 necklace at all times (the 1 charm was added when he won his first championship).
There wasn't much Max knew about this album, just that it was called Maxie. Maxie. It was going to make him look sappy as shit when the world found out about it, but he didn't care.
Just like the rest of the world, Max was waiting for the album to drop. He didn't know he was going to be the first to listen to it.
He certainly didn't picture this. Her sitting on his lap as the first song in the new album played. It was a soft, slow, melodic song. Max listened to the lyrics, telling the story of how they first met.
The songs were about them, about him. About how much she loved him, about his career. Two hundred miles per hour, ready to make my heart shatter. Her fear around his career, wrapped around lyrics about how proud she was.
max. He wasn't ready for the song called max. The song about his childhood, a story told from the point of view of someone on the outside looking in. It's too late to save him, but she's there to pick up the pieces, to help him through the trauma. Trauma not realised until later.
"I wasn't sure about keeping that one on the album," she confessed as she looked at his face, looked at the tears gathering in his eyes. "I don't have to if you don't want me to."
Max pulled her closer. "I love you," he whispered and kissed her.
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bruciemilf · 8 hours
Text
Scary boyfriend privilege? No. Scary sons privilege.
Bruce who can’t go anywhere without his newly adopted ward. He follows Bruce like a sunny shadow, grin always in place.
“Dick, can I hold your hand when we cross the street?”
Dick, very sweetly, “No.”
Bruce sighs, but accepts easily. Some guy scoffs at that and asks Bruce if he’ll let his kid just talk to him like that. His kid. His heart hurts in a very good way.
He’s about to say something, but Dick interrupts him, his teeth bared full, “Weren’t you on the news for hitting an old lady with your car?”
Bruce freezing. Dick goes back to his gameboy. They hold hands when they cross the street.
It’s both scary and comforting how little he changes when he’s an adult.
Jason, on the other hand.
Although he refuses to admit it, he does follow Bruce around, too, when his dad actually has to leave the manor. It’s when Alfred says he needs sun.
“You signed a contract, sir.”
Bruce sighing, “I signed it when I was 4. In black crayon. Those don’t count.”
Damian gasped, as if discovering a vile fact, sending an accusing glare Bruce’s way. “They don’t?”
Bruce needs an excuse to haul ass fast and that’s how Jason ends up chaperoning his socially awkward, disaster of a father in his quest to pick up food.
He’s a titanic presence next to Bruce, glaring off whoever stares a little too long or too appreciatively, strong arms crossed and his eyes hard and sharp.
Bruce gently taps his bicep and he hates the way he melts. “Do you want the chicken nuggets with or without apple slices?”
“Without.”
“Jay.”
“FINE.”
Give Jason his “he asked for No pickles” moment. It has to embarrass Bruce enough to jump in traffic, thought.
Damian has his own league and none of them can really compete with it. I think, during parent’s night, he drags Bruce off to proudly showcase his gallery of portraits.
Bruce is very moved when he realizes they’re almost all him.
There’s portraits of Dick, too, and Alfred, and a comically bad one of Tim. “Damian, they’re very beautiful. Thank you.”
“I painted them with the blood of your enemies.”
“…Thank you.”
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