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#any fanfic ever
androidboy · 1 year
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hoshigray · 1 year
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Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?
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A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!
Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.
Wc: 4.9k
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"Oh look, your favorite is here."
10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.
Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.
You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.
A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.
Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.
And you smile back as you walk towards him.
The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").
It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.
"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."
You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.
"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"
An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.
Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.
"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"
"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."
"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."
You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."
Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"
You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."
"I could also help you."
Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."
Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."
"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."
Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.
Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.
"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"
The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."
You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."
Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"
He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."
"Yes?"
Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.
He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.
"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."
All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.
"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"
If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.
"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."
You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.
"My good girl."
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A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.
For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").
Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.
But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.
Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.
And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.
It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.
Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.
During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.
Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.
You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.
So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!
You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.
Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.
Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?
You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.
It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?
What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?
You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.
Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.
"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"
"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."
"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"
His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."
"That bad?"
He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"
"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.
Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."
"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."
"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.
A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."
"And?"
"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"
There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.
"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"
He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.
But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"
Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.
Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."
The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.
"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"
Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.
You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.
"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."
"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"
You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.
"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."
He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.
"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."
The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.
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That little prayer did absolutely nothing!
Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.
And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.
"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.
"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.
"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!
You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.
He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.
Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.
When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.
Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."
He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.
I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.
You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.
"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."
Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-
A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.
"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."
"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.
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"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"
"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.
Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.
The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.
Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"
"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"
Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."
You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"
"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.
You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.
The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.
"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."
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"Did I say that I want your babies?"
You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.
He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."
"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."
"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."
Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"
"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."
You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."
The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.
Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.
"No problem, kiddo."
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nsfandomdump · 14 days
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Okay okay I know the shippers are grieving KaiShin right now BUT
May I offer you platonic/familial KaiShin?
Just think. They may not know it in canon yet, but Shinichi is technically Kaito's only relative who hasn't fucked off and abandoned him
Like at this point Shinichi/Conan probably gives more shits about Kaito/KID than both of Kaito's parents
Imagine the fanfic potential
Them finding out they're related
Kaito half glad and half weirded out that he has another relative who's actually here
Shinichi being baffled at Kaito's fucked family situation
Maybe even Shinichi going off on his dad for seemingly letting Toichi's son believe he's dead
Maybe even Kaito going off on his dad for, well, everything at this point
The drama
Imagine
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lovingyoulovinme · 11 months
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childhood besties to strangers to ?
part 2
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram no feet on the table!
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yoursister i'm telling mom
charles_leclerc Photo creds please...
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yourinstagram no 😍
user1 my favorite best friends in the world
pascale.leclerc.355 Miss you beautiful!
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yourinstagram pascale!!! tu me manques plus 🥹🥹 (i miss you more)
charles_leclerc What about me???
yourinstagram we all know i've always been her favorite
yourfriend shes glowing 🥰🥰
user2 if my best friend was as beautiful as charles' i wouldve married her forever ago
March 2, 2022
f1wags
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4,392 likes
f1wags leclerc has got a new girlfriend and it's not who we expected it to be 👀👀
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user3 CHARLES WHAT ABT Y/N 😭😭😭
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user4 they've literally always said they're just friends!!!!
ynstan oh......
user5 shes beautiful!!!
April 8, 2022
charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourinstagram and 884,827 others
charles_leclerc 🤍
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user6 y/n is better
charlottesine 😚🥰
user7 bro gripping that arm she not going anywhere 😭
ylnleclerc y/n commenting on everything charles has ever posted but not this :(
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user4 she literally liked the post im sure shes happy for them
arthur_leclerc ❤️
user1 crying just a lil
April 23, 2022
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yourinstagram
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yourinstagram turnt 24 last week so far so good
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user8 A MANS??????
ylnleclerc praying to god thats charles
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user9 u know his style isnt that good be fr
yourfriend my angel 🫶
rubendias Moça bonita (beautiful girl)
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user1 WHO ARE YOU
user3 he's a footballer for manchester city girl
charlesandyn this is def her man...its so over
jackgrealish Got him dressing good 👏
August 17, 2022
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rubendias
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Liked by yourinstagram and 532,378 others
rubendias Time off 💙 p.s the cake tasted a lot better than it looks 😂
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yourinstagram are you calling my cake ugly?????????
yourinstagram stones would never treat me like this
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johnstonesofficial 😘
rubendias 🤣🤣🤣
user2 charles getting replaced so easily 💔
bernardetealvesdias 💙💙
user4 pls give her back to the f1 community we had her first
yoursister take good care of her or else...
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rubendias Always
October 25, 2022
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram my little life 🫶
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arthur_leclerc reviens, s'il te plaît 😭😭😭 (please, come home)
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yourinstagram little leclerc oh how i miss you :(
user3 HELLO???? A Y/N&LECLERC INTERACTION
user10 not the one it should be tho 😭
rubendias You have an addiction, baby.
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yourinstagram you literally bought all of them for me
erling.haaland Share.
user1 i'm really happy for her but at what point will her and charles be friends again 😔
November 15, 2022
charles_leclerc added to their story.
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December 6, 2022
arthur_leclerc added to their story.
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February 23, 2023
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ao3-crack · 1 year
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(x)
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teaandinanity · 6 months
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Fanart for a certain scene in chapter 3 of Servant to a Different King by @tossawary that smacked me upside the head and said 'DRAW' (I am having such a good time, it is such a treat to read!)
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pandoraistheloml · 1 month
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trying to beat the weird kid allegations and then they mention that one fanfic
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lauraneedstochill · 1 year
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The object of my desires
summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson.
warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, Aegon gets punched (but he redeems himself), a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW: it is smut but not very detailed so don't get your hopes up), with a sprinkle of softness
words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...)
author's note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I've been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven't seen a single fic * using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.
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If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.
You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.
Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.
A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart. 
“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did. 
You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.
Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.
The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.
“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm's way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.
“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.
“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement, lady Y/N,” Cole teased. 
“Well, I would've volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.
It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:
“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I've read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.
It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.
“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”
It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.
As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.
Until one day things took a turn.
Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least.
That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.
Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn't fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.
That's how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.
“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer:
“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.
“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Velaryon boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality. 
“I suppose it's hard not to, with the way she's been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.
He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There's a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice:
“And what about her dresses?”
“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.
Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.
You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you're all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate? 
Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.
Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.
You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.
By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.
He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure.
On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.
“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.
“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.
“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.
And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.
“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.
“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.
“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.
You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too.
Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.
“Good morrow, ladies.”
“How's your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.
“I'm afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.
“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.
Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look:
“Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”
“Not when I'm with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.
Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond's words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart.
In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It's the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it's easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through.
You sit by Helaena's side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.
“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.
You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:
“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”
You fight the urge to look at Aemond.
“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.
Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you:
“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”
“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.
“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”
“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.
“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I'd like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.
But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out.
You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.
During the second month, his patience starts running out.
In the years you've known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.
After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.
When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice.
The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum.
“Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.
“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I'm afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”
His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look:
“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face:
“As always, it is, lady Y/N.”
It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.
The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there's a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.
You feel like his eye doesn't leave you for a second.
You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it's time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.
The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.
When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first. 
“I couldn't help but notice your absence, lady Y/N. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.
“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.
“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.
“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.
A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing. 
“I've always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you've never seen him so hurt.
Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.
“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”
The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.
But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.
And then the dance comes to an end.
You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze:
“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”
“Y/N, wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.
“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”
At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain.
Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is.
“Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read. 
His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time. 
“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of meters away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.
“I would've apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.
“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.
“I never said I was outraged.” 
“You weren't thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”
“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.
Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.
The air in the room feels heavy.
You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.
“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.
He speaks with his tone low:
“...You vex me to no end.”
With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.
“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.
His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.
“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.
“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth. 
You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.
“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.
His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.
He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.
“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye. 
You don't know if it's a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.
“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.
Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that's left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.
Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.
“I've missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”
He doesn't need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:
“Aemond”
“Aemond”
“Aemond.”
His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.
“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.
He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.
“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”
His hand between your legs doesn't stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.
The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.
“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.
You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast. 
“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.
You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile:
“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your clit, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.
It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.
His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.
“I truly am sorry, Y/N,” Aemond admits.
You chuckle lightly:
“I think you already made it up to me.”
Despite the hint of humor, there's an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don't know what's to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.
Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:
“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.
There's a brief pause before he adds:
“But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.
You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize:
"You were jealous of Jace?!"
Aemond looks down at the floor, and there's something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again:
“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”
“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.
“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.
His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.
“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.
“I don't plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.
He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
And neither would you.
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the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently) — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m super nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)
* I know there is an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!
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opens-up-4-nobody · 10 months
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:-P
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leafjoon · 4 months
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Between the lines - pt. II
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words: 5k warnings: swearing, alcohol, age gap, slight angst, jealousy, mentions of cheating, smut, spitting, one slap, unprotected sex, daddy kink (barely). its also v fluffy n has aftercare
It was Saturday evening, and you decided to go out with your friends and enjoy yourself a little. You knew you deserved it after the absurd week you had. You finally turned those pages to Alex in time, cramming and staying home almost every night—the assignments you had neglected piled up, and you had to catch up.
But none of that mattered tonight. No, tonight you would have fun with your friends and let loose. Most importantly, you wanted to ignore the desire that had crept up on you for your editor since that night.
"Let's do shots!" your friend Rachel yelled out. You chuckled at her enthusiasm, deciding to join in. "Tequila?" 
"You know it," she replied with a wink. It was half past eleven, and most of you were already drunk.
After you ordered your shots, everyone quickly shot them down their throats, some scrunching up their faces due to the sour taste. "God, this never fails to fuck me up," you said.
As you were listening to Sophie rambling about in her drunken state, you spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye. Squinting a little, you weren't sure if it was him. He looked like one of your ex-boyfriends. You quickly turned, not wanting him to see you.
Things had gone sour with him last year when you found out he had been talking to another girl behind your back. You were stupid to trust him. His lack of insincerity was evident to everyone else but you.
You huffed, not wanting to bring down the mood but getting agitated at the reminder of his existence and the insecurities he had brought out of you.
"Show me your phone," you said sternly, your nostrils flaring up. You felt insane for making such a demand, but your gut told another story.
"What the fuck? You've gone crazy," he said, letting out a chuckle.
"James. Just show me your last text, and we can forget about this. Okay?" you said, pleading with him. You wanted to trust him.
He looked at you, his face laced with guilt, and looked away. "No."
You let out a shaky breath. "Get out," you whispered. You knew exactly what this meant. You felt your chest tighten. 
"What?" he asked, confused and angry.
"Get the fuck out!" you screamed at him, tears forming in your eyes. "I don't want to see you." Your heart was thumping in your chest.
He looked at you and clenched his jaw. Grabbing his coat, he let out a huff of disbelief and left.
“(Y/N)?” Sophie called out your name.
Your eyes, completely zoned out, now focused on Sophie's face. "Huh?"
"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"
"Uh. Yeah. Sure," you said, nodding, trying to be convincing, and taking a sip of your drink.
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at you, visibly annoyed.
"Sorry, I'm just drunk," you told her, pouting a little and giving your drink to her as a peace offering.
Your eyes searched for the exit, beckoning you to take a much-needed break outside. A quick smoke and a breath of fresh air sounded good. You weren't a smoker, but this situation called for it. 
"Hey, can I grab a cig?" you asked one of your guy friends, Finn, as you pulled him in for a hug from behind. "Sure," he said, extending his pack of cigarettes to you.
When you went outside, you were met with a cool breeze. You lit up your cigarette, bringing it to your mouth, and felt slightly calmer as you exhaled the smoke.
Suddenly, you heard a voice from behind calling your name. “(Y/N)? Is that you?"
You froze. No. You didn't turn around, hoping he would leave you alone.
"Hey," he approached you with a slight smirk. "Started smoking, huh?"
"No, not really," you said in a dull tone, glancing at him for a split second and then looking away.
"Haven't seen you in a while. How've you been?"
 "Fine, thanks," you replied, slightly turning away from him. You hoped you didn't have to cause a scene to get him to leave.
"What, that's it?" he chuckled.
"I came out here to avoid people, James," you said, looking anywhere but in his direction.
"Come on, lighten up," he rolled his eyes.
Your head snapped. You were about to throw a snarky remark at him when you heard a low voice calling you. “(Y/N).”
When you turned around, a pair of gentle eyes met you. Your face immediately fell into a relieved expression, and you smiled. "Alex?"
James turned to look at him, eyeing him up. As Alex approached the two of you, he sensed your discomfort.
He talked to James and exchanged pleasantries. Alex wanted to snatch you away, not let him have the time of day with you.
"Do you mind if I steal her for a second, mate?" he asked, not waiting for a response. "Sure," James uttered, his intense gaze settling on him.
You and Alex started walking away from him, turning around the corner and settling in an alleyway.
"What a nice surprise." You said, your cheeks flushed. You took note of his appearance. He was wearing a white t-shirt with a brown blazer. His hair styled as usual, with a few strands falling on his face. He looked gorgeous.
"You seemed uncomfortable earlier," he furrowed his brows. "You alright?" he asked, squeezing your arm.
You shivered slightly from his touch. "I-uh. Yeah. Thank you for that. I didn't know how to get away," you admitted.
"Who was that anyway?" he asked, his eyes glued on your face, taking in all your expressions.
"Just some dickhead. You know how terrible college guys are."
He chuckled lightly. "I do. I used to be one."
"Oh, were you also a dickhead?" you joked.
"I don't think so." You laughed. He smiled, admiring you.
"So, you've taken up smoking in the three days we haven't seen each other?" he teased you.
"No," you laughed shyly. "Just really needed one right now."
"Care to light mine then?" he asked, his eyes glinting.
You brought your lighter close to his face, feeling his faint breath on your hand.
"Thanks," he blew the smoke the other way.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, sounding like you were interrogating him.
"Well, you know, sometimes we older people like to go out too."
You laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly.
"No, actually, I was passing through on my way home. Then I saw a familiar little head." 
"Oh. Well, that's lucky," you smiled.
His gaze lingered on you. His pants slightly tightened when he took notice of your flimsy outfit.
You were wearing a thick jean jacket covering your dark blouse. Your breasts peeked out of your top, revealing your supple skin.
Alex felt himself growing jealous, imagining the amount of men that leered at you throughout the night. A beautiful girl like you, he was sure they were foaming at the mouth.
You suddenly felt shy under his gaze and looked away. Your phone vibrated, and you took it out of your pocket, slightly humming.
"Where the hell are u?" Finn had texted you.
You checked the clock, and it was already 12:07 am. You felt a little tired and wondered if heading home would be a good idea.
"Friends?" Alex interrupted your thoughts.
"Yeah. They're wondering where I went." He nodded.
"Think I'm gonna go home, though. I'm getting a bit sleepy," you said, glancing at him and waiting for his reaction.
"Sure." He replied.
You tried again. "You know, the apartment I'm staying at isn't that far from this bar," you looked at him expectantly.
"Would you like me to walk you?" he said softly.
"Sure." You mimicked him.
After saying goodbye to your friends, you returned outside, meeting Alex by the door.
The apartment was only a fifteen-minute walk from there, but it felt much quicker than that. You had good company, after all.
You started shivering a bit, crossing your arms to emit heat.
Alex took notice of that and came closer to you. He removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, one of his hands lingering on your arm.
You felt your body tense at the close contact. He slowly let his hand fall as you were walking.
"Don't you live in a dorm?" he asked.
"I do. I'm cat-sitting for one of my friends. She went to visit her family for the weekend."
He nodded. "Is the cat behaving?"
You chuckled. "He's adorable. You have to see him."
A smile played on Alex's lips as you both arrived at your friend's apartment. The evening had been enjoyable, yet you felt a subtle disappointment as you stood there. You hesitated, not wanting to say goodbye.
"Do you want to come in?" you asked as you met his gaze.
His eyes flickered to yours. Silence stretched between you, and he struggled to find the right words.
"I, uh... It's getting a bit late for me," he finally said, his gaze momentarily dropping.
"Okay," you replied, your gaze shifting downward, a sense of vulnerability washing over you. You handed Alex his jacket, your fingers lightly grazing.
"It was nice seeing you again," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across your face. The touch lingered, leaving a trail of warmth.
"Night, Alex," you replied, your gaze fixed on him. As he turned to leave, the quiet echo of your thoughts filled the space, leaving you to wonder about the possibilities that danced in the corners of the night.
*
As the days passed, you were distracted by endless thoughts about your editor. It became evident, especially during class. Images of his warm smile, big hands, and fluffy hair filled your mind. You felt yourself growing more drawn to him whenever you weren't together.
When your professor dismissed the class, you realized you had been daydreaming about him almost the entire time and scribbling gibberish in your notebook. You let out a long sigh and started gathering your belongings, stuffing them in your bag.
Sophie joined you as you exited the class. "God, can he give us any more assignments?" she let out a huff of frustration. "What assignment?" you asked.
"Didn't you hear him?" she asked. "No," you shrugged.
She laughed. "What were you doing? I kept looking at you, and you seemed so zoned out."
"Oh. Nothing. I was thinking about my novel," you blurted out.
"How's that going, by the way? Is Mr. Turner treating you well?" she asked. 
Mr. Turner. Oh boy. 
"Sure! I mean-yeah, no he's great," you stuttered.
"Okay..." she glanced over to you. "So what are you doing today?" you asked, changing the topic.
You quickly returned to your dorm room, not wanting to run into anyone else you knew. When you entered your room, you kicked off your shoes, threw your bag somewhere on the floor, and flung yourself on your sofa. You groaned. What the hell were you supposed to do with these overwhelming feelings?
Flicking your phone open, you saw a text message from Alex. Your heart started racing. 
Hi. I hope you're well. I will not be available tonight to help with your assignments. Would it be all right if we rescheduled for tomorrow?
You felt a pang of disappointment as you read the text. You had felt so jittery all morning and couldn't wait to see him, and now this. Sighing, you replied to him and immediately texted Sophie. You needed to go out tonight.
*
You made dinner plans with your best friend and decided to try out a new restaurant that had opened downtown. The menu looked amazing, and the prices were pretty decent. Your parents had always been generous with you about money, but you made sure to save and indulge occasionally.
As you entered the restaurant, you felt a warm ambiance enveloped you. The smooth jazz tunes filled the place, and the hostess escorted you to a free table nearby.
When you sat down, you and Sophie excitedly looked through the menu and ordered your drinks and meal. While Sophie was telling you about her latest situationship, your eyes wandered around the restaurant, taking in the beautifully decorated place.
The warm lights cast a beautiful glow on your friend, and you listened as she told you about the intense chemistry she felt with this guy. "Ugh, I don't know, there's just something about him." her eyes sparkled.
"You mean the incredible sex you're having?" you said playfully.
She cracked up. "I mean…among other things."
"So why aren't you making it official?"
"I don't know (Y/N). I'm unsure if I want to be in a relationship right now. It seems like too much work. I got my plate full with everything going on," she sighed.
You nodded, glancing behind Sophie. She continued talking about how he wanted to see her all the time. Wait-You thought you spotted someone. Was that Alex?
Your gaze focused on him. He was seated at a distant table, laughing with the woman beside him. Your mouth slightly dropped, and your eyes fixated on them.
Frozen in your seat, you felt a surge of emotions within you, the sight creating a knot of unease in your stomach. What the hell? Had he canceled on you to go out with some woman? 
You swallowed thickly, and Sophie noticed the change in your demeanor. "Hey, you okay?"
"Uh-yeah," you replied. "Who do you keep staring at?" she said, looking over her shoulder. 
Then she spotted the man who preoccupied your mind. "Oh, is that Mr. Turner? Should we go up to him?"
"No! I mean, he seems busy," you lowered your gaze. 
"Yeah, I guess he's got a hot date," she giggled.
You nodded, taking a large swig of your wine. You prayed he wouldn't see you. The last thing you needed right now was for him to notice how stupid you looked.
You cringed, hearing their distant laughter and shared joy starkly contrasting to the quiet ache that tightened within you.
You decided to distract yourself and urged Sophie to continue telling you about the boy she was seeing. "Well, at least one of us is getting some action," you joked, feeling slightly bitter.
You tried to enjoy your meal and ignore the pit in your stomach. Forcing yourself to focus only on Sophie, you refilled your wine glass and continued talking to her.
Later in the evening, you noticed that their table had become empty. Glancing over, you caught a glimpse of Alex and the woman leaving, and an inexplicable mix of relief and regret washed over you.
You were thankful he didn't see you and talk to you, but at the same time, you couldn't believe he blew you off to go on a date. He didn't owe you anything. After all, he was only your editor.
That night, tipsy and emotional, you stumbled to your dorm room. How were you going to face him tomorrow and ignore your growing feelings? In your drunken haze, you decided that was a decision for sober you to deal with, and you went to sleep, comforted by the spinning room.
*
The next day arrived with a weight on your shoulders that matched the dull ache in your head from last night. As you walked to Alex's place, slightly hungover, the memory of him having dinner with another woman gnawed at your thoughts.
You awkwardly entered his house, exchanged a few words with him, and immediately buried your nose in your assignment, minimizing any chances of small talk. Alex finally spoke up after an hour of you struggling to make any progress.
"Is something the matter (Y/N)?" he asked gently.
"What do you mean?" you mumbled.
"You seem agitated today." He sighed.
"I'm fine," you huffed.
"Are you sure? We aren't getting anywhere with this assignment," he continued, face laced with concern.
You clenched your jaw. How the hell could you? Oh yeah, well, I thought I felt a spark with you, but that went to shit when I saw you having dinner with a gorgeous woman. Not to mention, I'm probably insane for even thinking there was something between us.
You sighed. "Nothing is wrong; let's just finish this," you murmured.
"I don't think that's a good idea," he pressed.
"Why not?" you said, annoyed.
"We've been stuck in this section for an hour. Maybe we should take a break, or you can go home and rest," he replied, his worried eyes meeting yours.
Oh, so now he's kicking me out. Fuck this shit.
"Fine. I'll go," you spat out, getting up and grabbing your papers and notebook roughly.
He stared at you, confused, wondering if he had struck a chord in you.
"Hey," he said gently. "Hold on."
You ignored him and continued gathering your things.
"(Y/N)."
Disregarding him, you shoved everything into your bag.
"Will you stop acting like a brat and tell me what's wrong?" he said, slightly irritated.
You looked at him in disbelief. "Excuse me?" You swallowed thickly. "You wanna know what's wrong?"
You huffed. "I saw you!"
His head tilted in confusion. "Saw me where?"
"The other night, with that woman," you blurted, the words leaving your mouth faster than your thoughts could catch up. 
You continued, "Am I crazy for thinking that- that," you stuttered.
Groaning, you ran your fingers through your hair.
"That what?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing," you replied.
"(Y/N)," he said, his voice softening, "why are you making such a fuss?"
Your attempts to brush off the situation faltered. "I-" Your voice caught in your throat. "It seemed like you were on a date," you finally said.
He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening. "I wasn't on a date. I was catching up with an old friend."
You couldn't meet his gaze, your eyes fixated on your hands. 
The weight of the misunderstanding pressed on your shoulders.
"Why does it matter if I was on a date or not?" he asked, a genuine curiosity in his tone.
"It doesn't. You're allowed to do whatever you want," you whispered.
"But you don't want me to, right?" he pressed, with a hint of concern.
You looked at him, your expression uncertain. "Whatever. I'm gonna go. Please forget I said anything," you mumbled, hurrying towards the exit.
"Hey, hey," he said, grabbing your forearm gently but just enough to stop you. "Is this why you've been so moody and distracted all day? Because you thought I was seeing someone?"
You shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "You canceled our session to see her," you mumbled.
He sighed. "Let's sit down and talk about this, okay?"
You mumbled an 'okay' and followed him to the couch.
He started, "I wasn't on a date, and I certainly don't want you to think I'm not considerate of your feelings. I did cancel our session to see her, and I apologize. She's only here for a few days before returning to Sheffield, where she lives with her husband."
"Oh," you said quietly.
"Maybe I should've communicated better," he said, running a hand through his hair.
"It's fine, I guess," you muttered.
"I'm sorry. You mean a lot to me, (Y/N)," he smiled at you, putting a hand over yours.
He scooted closer to you, his face merely a few inches away from yours, and your breaths mingled in the small space between you. Alex's eyes lingered on your lips.
Your heart started racing. With a slow movement, Alex leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You felt a wildfire of emotions as the kiss intensified, leaving you breathless.
Barely pulling away, he whispered, "How 'bout I show you how I feel about you?"
You felt a flutter of anticipation in your stomach and nodded in response.
His hand found its way to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours again. His other hand settled on your thigh, his fingertips tickling your skin. His tongue slid against yours, massaging it gently.
He pulled away slightly, panting, "Do you want to go upstairs?" You nodded. 
He dragged you upstairs to his bedroom, the air charged with desire. His eyes were filled with an intensity you couldn't ignore.
Alex's hands found the small of your back, pulling you closer. His lips found yours once again, slipping his tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste him again.
He guided you to his bed, and you sank into the mattress, sprawling beneath him.
He settled on top of you and pressed his body against yours. His nimble fingers squeezed your thighs as his half-hard member rested between your legs. You gasped quietly when you felt him on your arousal, feeling his hot breath tickling your skin.
He sighed as one of his hands found its way to your cheek, grazing it lightly. You felt soft, just like he'd imagined. He gently pressed his lips to yours, and you opened your mouth, your tongues tangling.
You let out a sound when his other large hand came down to caress your waist, settling below your breast.
He broke the kiss with a smack, leaned down, and whispered in your ear, "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart," his words sending goosebumps all over your body.
As he left a trail of hot kisses and bites down your neck, he made sure to suck a spot, marking you. He wanted to ruin you. Pleasure you until he was the only thing on your mind.
"Alex," you sighed, bringing one of your hands to grab his hair, the other settling on his back, gripping the material of his t-shirt.
He smirked against your skin as his big hands roamed your body. He cupped your breasts roughly, pulling a whimper out of you.
Pulling away from your neck, his eyes settled on your face. His fingers flicked your nipples, playing with them. This made your arousal only grow more.
He retreated his hands and took off your shirt slowly, revealing your tits. He hissed, "Fuck. You're stunning," as he caressed your naked breasts. He leaned down to suck softly on one of your nipples.
"A-alex," you whispered, gripping his hair tighter.
He moaned, enjoying it in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. He bit down softly on it, making you gasp and your back arch.
"So stiff," he muttered, making your face heat up. His mouth found your other breast, leaving open mouthed-kisses on it, his lips wrapping around your nipple.
His hand made its way down to the zipper of your trousers, and he asked, "Can I take these off?" 
You nodded, and he slipped them off you, throwing them on the ground.
He towered above you as his hand went down to your delicate panties, rubbing your arousal, feeling your wetness. The sight would be plaguing his mind for weeks on end.
"Already soaked for me, yeah?" He whispered, soliciting a quiet moan out of you. "Hm?" he looked at you. You gulped, "Yes."
He half-grinned as he pushed the thin material to the side and started stroking your slit. "So drenched," he gasped.
Your skin was on fire, and you moaned quietly. He started teasing your entrance and gathered your slick. He then slipped your underwear past your legs, throwing them somewhere on the bed.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," he uttered, and you obliged, feeling shy under his gaze.
He licked his lips at the sight and stroked your thighs tenderly before returning his finger to your clit. He rubbed it softly, emitting soft moans out of you. His other hand crept on your throat, resting there.
"Oh!" You moaned loudly when he found a spot that made your legs shake and started rubbing your clit faster.
He looked at you in awe, his mouth slightly agape. You were adorable, giving yourself to him completely.
He continued rubbing your bundle of nerves, drinking in all your reactions. He slipped a finger, and you threw your head back, gasping softly.
He pumped in and out of you, and his cock twitched in his pants. He felt painfully hard. He slipped in another finger with ease and stretched you out, his knuckles deep inside you.
Curling them inside, he hit a sweet spot that made your eyes roll. "Think you can handle a third one, sweetheart?"
You nodded, whimpering. Alex's hand snaked to your jaw, opened your mouth, and stuck his thumb inside. You made sure to suck on it.
He pushed his finger in, pulling out a loud whine from you and spreading you out like never before.
"Good girl."
He noticed you clenching around his fingers. "Like it when I call you that?"
You nodded. "Well, you have to earn it," Alex said as he fucked you with his fingers. 
Your chest heaved as his other hand went down to your pussy, now playing with your clit.
"Look at you, taking my fingers so well."  
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he continued to pump in and out of you. "Such a perfect cunt," he mumbled to himself.
You grabbed his wrist roughly, signaling to him that you were getting close. He noticed you were clenching his fingers more, and your moans were getting louder.
He slowed his movements and gently slipped his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty.
"Alex…" you whined, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt. Breathing heavily, you looked at him through half-lidded eyes.
"What is it?" he teased you.
"I need you..."
"Need me? For what?" he asked. His cock needed stimulation so badly, but he wanted to make you beg.
You huffed. "I need you to fuck me," you whispered quietly, bringing him closer. "Daddy," you whispered.
He groaned, "Fuck. You're so greedy. Can't be satisfied with what I give you, huh?" he asked, unzipping his trousers, slipping out of them.
You started unbuttoning his shirt quickly, tossing it to the ground. Alex sighed as you roamed your hands on his toned chest.
He removed his boxers swiftly, exposing his thick cock, precum pooling on the head already.
You bit your lip as your hand went down to his member, stroking it, earning a few moans out of him.
He pulled your hand away after a few minutes and grabbed his member, positioning it near your entrance.
He teased your folds with his cock, gathering your wetness and rubbing your clit, letting out soft moans. 
He then tapped your entrance and started entering you slowly, filling you to the brim, the sensation bringing tears to your eyes.
You gasped and closed your eyes. Alex grabbed your cheeks. "Look at me," he said hoarsely.
You wrapped your hands around his back and pulled him flush against your chest. 
He started moving slowly, letting you get used to the stretch of his cock.
"F-fuck. You feel amazing," he stuttered.
You barely managed to keep your eyes open. You felt so full of him.
Your breaths mixed together, and you pleaded, "Faster, please," he obliged, fucking you faster, making you whimper loudly.
"You look so pretty, taking my cock," he soothed as he slammed his hips into yours, making you gasp.
It felt so good you couldn't contain any of your whimpers and moans. Filthy squelching noises filled the room, making you even more wet around him.
Your sweaty bodies were pressed against each other, and he engulfed your senses. He grabbed one of your breasts roughly, massaging it as his pace became fast and steady, fucking you deliciously.
You felt so fucked-out, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head repeatedly. You felt desperate for him. As he hit a delicious spot inside, you repeatedly cried out his name.
"That's it, baby, scream my fucking name."
He held you close to him as he slammed his cock in and out of you, making you feel every inch of it. He grabbed your jaw and ordered, "Open your mouth."
You did as told, your tongue peeking out, slightly panting. He pursed his lips and spat roughly on your tongue, uttering, "Swallow."
You swallowed, whining, and sank your nails into his back.
"Such a slut for me," he hissed.
You moaned loudly, clenching on his cock uncontrollably. You felt yourself approaching your climax, and he could feel it, too.
"What? You wanna cum?" he teased you.
"Please," you begged, nearing your release for the second time.
"Gonna have to do better than that, love," he replied, slowing down a little.
"Alex, please," you whined. "Don't stop. I need you," you pleaded with him pathetically.
"Do you, now?" he asked, stopping abruptly. He grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him.
"No!" you whimpered, your chest heaving. "I'll be so good. Just let me cum."
"Where?" he asked in a husky tone.
"I-," you stuttered. 
"Go on, say it," he encouraged you.
"On your cock," you whispered, flushed.
He grunted, "Good girl," his hand immediately going to your pulsating clit. His other hand smacked your cheek harshly.
You whined, tears gathering in your eyes while reveling in the stinging feeling. Cupping it gently, Alex alleviated the pain a little.
"It's alright, princess," he soothed, leaning down to capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss.
He started fucking your drenched pussy at a fast pace, making you see stars. As he grabbed your waist for leverage, you felt overwhelming pleasure pooling in your abdomen.
Your orgasm was building quickly, ready to snap at any moment, as he thrust into you repeatedly. Your legs were wrapped around him, needing him as close as possible.
His movements were becoming sloppy, an indication of his own climax approaching. Your skin was ablaze, and the way he was moaning was making you delirious.
"Cum on my cock, sweetheart," he said.
"Fuck, Alex!" You screamed and felt waves of pleasure spreading throughout your body as you orgasmed on his cock, convulsing. You were whining uncontrollably.
Your nails were digging into his arm, surely breaking the skin, but you were too cock-drunk to care.
"Fuck, your cunt is so tight," he groaned as he struggled to thrust into you. It only took him a few more thrusts for him to cum inside you, letting out a drawn-out moan.
His hot load completely filled you up, his jaw hanging slack. After he emptied inside you, he collapsed on top, burying his face in your neck.
As you both came down from your high, he pulled out of you gently. He couldn't help but look down at your pussy, admiring the mess he made out of you.
He loved the way his cum seeped out. No one could have you now.
He laid down beside you and stroked your waist. "You alright?" he uttered.
You were still catching your breath and opened your eyes slowly. "Yes," you sighed.
You turned your back to him, feeling exposed. You were still trying to figure out what to do now. Should you…leave or stay? Your thoughts were interrupted by him as he pressed his body against yours and draped an arm over you.
"We should get you cleaned up," he whispered, kissing your shoulder, his arm stroking your stomach.
"Okay," you whispered.
"Want me to draw us a bath?" he asked.
"I love baths…" you muttered.
He chuckled. "Perfect." He pressed a kiss to your head and headed for the bathroom. Soon, the sound of running water reached your ears, and you sat on the bed.
Alex returned with a tender expression. He extended his hand, inviting you to join him in the bathroom.
You felt a bit shy, especially since you were still naked and not hazed by your lust anymore. Alex made sure to hold onto your hand, which reassured you.
You stepped on the cool tiles, and Alex asked, "You want bubbles?"
"Yes," you murmured. 
After a few minutes, you eased yourself into the hot water, and so did he, sitting on opposite ends of the bath.
The water had a comforting effect on you as your body melted into it. Alex broke the silence. "Why are you so far away?"
"I don't know. Why are you?" you replied. "Come here," he said, extending his arms to grab yours and turning you around, pressing your back to his naked chest.
You settled yourself between his legs, relaxing against his body, and he wrapped his arms around you. "Why'd you get all shy on me now? You were yelling at me an hour ago," he chuckled.
"I wasn't yelling at you," you furrowed your brows, growing defensive. "I'm just teasing," he whispered close to your ear.
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever," you puffed. "Why are you getting so defensive?" Alex said, holding you tighter. 
"Because, I have no idea what this means now," you mumbled.
He smiled, sensing your uncertainty. "Well, what I do know is care about you and…would love to take you out sometime. And do this again," he said, kissing your cheek.
"Me too," you replied, your cheeks flushed.
"Yeah?"
"Mm-hm."
"Why don't you stay the night? It's getting late anyway."
"It's like 8 pm, Alex."
"Exactly. So late," he replied.
You laughed. "I have nothing to wear to bed nor do I have a toothbrush," you protested.
"I can give you a t-shirt. They'll look better on you anyway. And I'll go to the shop and buy you one. How's that sound?"
You giggled. "Okay, you've convinced me."
Leaving the bath, the air between you and Alex felt different, as if the weight of unspoken tensions had been washed away. Wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels, you talked to him effortlessly and discussed what you should eat for dinner.
The decision to spend the night together unfolded effortlessly, and you decided to get some Chinese take-out and watch a chick flick.
Later in the night, you found yourself nestled on Alex's big, comfortable bed and drifted off to a dreamless slumber, comforted by the presence of the man spooning you.
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cheapposts · 4 months
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Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.
It feels so weird. So wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to die in the end? Scar is pretty sure he was. He saw it with his own eyes: every winner before him died in the end. But for some reason, Scar didn’t.
At first he was confused. Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake. Maybe he’ll drop dead any minute now. But then a day came by. Two days. A week. And no god struck him down with a lightning. Scar was becoming more and more weirded out by that. He tried taking matters in his own hands, but no amount of jumping from a cliff to his death led him to freedom. He respawned again and again, wearing the same clothes with poppies and lilacs, having the same red eyes looking back at him from the river, staring at the same shade of red his name had every time he took his communicator in his hand and typed, "Hey?", "Anybody alive?", "Hello?", because what if the reason why he’s still alive is that he’s not actually a winner yet? What if there’s another player, and all he has to do to end this is to find and kill them, or let them kill him? But he never found anyone, and two weeks after the day he won, he stopped searching.
Three weeks after the day Scar won, he already had a new house going on. He settled at the edge of the map near mesa. "Screw this," he figured, "I’m not going to just wander around the land for months if the gods forgot to kill me. I’ll do things!" And things he did. After he was done with his new house, he fixed his old base, and tore down Mumbo's tower, and built a couple of things here and there. It was nice.
The next week was spent relaxing. He tended to his crops and fed cows he’d stolen from someone (not that the person would mind; they were dead). He died once that week and woke up in his bed again, but at that point it was starting to feel normal.
Five weeks after the day Scar won, he finally had to admit that the gods were not going to kill him. That for some reason, they decided to trap him there. Or maybe that’s what their idea of a happy ending was, maybe Scar happened to become the winner of the final game, the final round, and this was his reward. Maybe all the other players have gone home. Maybe Scar’s the only one left behind, and they live on without him.
There was no use in thinking about possibilities. It was only upsetting him. No - terrifying him. Instead, he took the matters in his own hands once again, and paid a visit to The Secret Keeper.
"I don’t want that," he said to it. "If this is my reward, I don’t want it. I want to go home. To Hermitcraft. Back to my friends. Back to where they’re alive."
The Secret Keeper didn’t seem to react. Scar felt his chest heat up with rage.
"Get me out of here!" he yelled, voice wavering. "You psychos! I- I miss my cat!"
The Secret Keeper didn’t answer.
Scar went home, laid down on his bed, and spent the evening thinking about Jellie's warm fur and his friends' smiles.
Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.
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cpressmn · 1 year
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i’m about to start gatekeeping interacting with fic authors from a lot of y’all. u need to learn how to behave
“i need more” “pls continue this” “when are you posting the next bit” why don’t you try showing some proper appreciation for what’s already written before you go demanding more!!!
​a lot of time and energy goes into each piece of writing and it is incredibly disappointing for the primary feedback to be “give me more!” if you’re trying to motivate authors to continue, this kind of response has the opposite effect.
you know what is motivating? specific praise.
let me break it down for you.
How To Leave A Comment Without (Unintentionally) Sounding Like A Pri- [GUNSHOT]
point out a few specific things you liked about the fic and why. how it made you feel.
highlight a line or two or three that stuck out to you.
if it’s an incomplete work, express excitement at seeing where they’re going — without a demand for more.
it’s quite simple, and it doesn’t even have to be a long thing. this can be done in a hundred words or less.
and yeah, it takes effort. takes a bit of time. but fandom is about mutual support. it’s about community.
fic authors are not celebrities who don’t even see your attempts to get their attention. there is a real person on the other side of that screen living a real life, and if you want to encourage them in their craft and properly motivate them to write, try treating them like a fucking human being.
authors put in hours to create content (that only ends up not being truly appreciated). i think you can spare a few minutes to leave a detailed, thoughtful comment in turn.
idk just a semi-friendly reminder that authors don’t owe you shit actually
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dqbbiegallaqher · 23 days
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guys it’s happened i’ve been converted to drarry someone drop the fic recs
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diazsdimples · 4 months
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Inspiration Saturday!
Tagged by @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @disasterbuckdiaz and @wikiangela thank youuuuu
Finally got around to making a moodboard for Single Dads AU so I have something to post today!! And please enjoy a cute scene with Buck and his girls first thing in the morning
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Today, Buck’s 27 years old, a firefighter for the LAFD, and has managed to guide his daughters through their lives without too many major incidents. Carrie’s 7 and doing well in school. He’s on the PTA and is very involved in the school’s community. Lily’s 5 and today’s her first day at school.
Shit. It’s Lily’s first day. It’s 7am and Buck hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet, much less roused the girls, both of whom are notoriously not morning people. It’s with a slight sense of panic that Buck launches himself out of bed and hurriedly throws on his uniform.
He shares a wall with the girls’ bedroom, so he raps his knuckles sharply, right where he knows their bunk bed sits, just like he does every morning, before leaving his room and striding to their door.
Buck opens the door slowly, eyeing the two lumpy forms under the mountains of blankets. There’s no movement from either mound, save for the steady rise and fall as they breath, and Buck tiptoes forward, stretching up to run his fingers through the long, blonde curls splayed over the pillow on the top bunk.
“Carrie,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss into his daughter’s hair. “Wake up sweetheart, it’s time for school.”
Carrie turns away from Buck with a grumble that sounds suspiciously like “go away,” and pulls the blankets over her head. Buck chuckles, Sarah used to be exactly the same in the mornings, completely unable to face the world unless she’d had a cup of coffee, which she’d consume at the table with a frown, practically growling at Buck whenever he’d try talk to her.
Unfortunately, Carrie’s too young for coffee, so Buck just has to face the wrath of a cranky 7-year-old until she’s eaten breakfast.
“Hey, come on, we’re going to be late,” Buck continues, poking Carrie in the back until she giggles, twisting away from his fingers. “Good morning,” he grins when she finally sits up and turns to him, her face rosy with sleep and her hair haloing her head in a bird’s nest of blonde.
“Don’t wanna get up,” Carrie mutters as she leans forward, resting her head on his shoulder. Buck tuts sympathetically as he rubs her back before scooping her into his arms and pulling her off the bed.
“I know you don’t,” he says as he rocks her back and forth, holding her like a baby, “But it’s your sister’s first day of school and we really, really gotta get ready.”
Buck set’s Carrie on the ground and pats her back, gently encouraging her forwards. “I’ll be in to fix you breakfast in a second, go hop in the shower.”
He watches fondly as Carrie shuffles from the room, rubbing her eyes sleepily, before turning to his youngest. Somehow, Lily’s still passed out on the lower bunk. Her ability to sleep through absolutely anything will never cease to amaze Buck. He reckons it’s likely due to having a boisterous older sister and needing to sleep in loud environments when Buck was floating from job to job when she was little. The girls at the bar he’d worked at had absolutely loved seeing her strapped to his chest, earmuffs on and drooling a wet patch into his shirt as she slept, the rhythmic rocking of him shaking cocktails usually lulling her to sleep.
Buck kneels on the ground and carefully peels back her duvet, reaching out a finger to stroke along her nose, a trick that’s worked to wake her up ever since she was a baby.
“Lily, honey, it’s time to get up,” he whispers, “today’s your first day of school.”
Lily, much like her older sister, isn’t easily roused, and Buck ends up scooping her into his lap and cradling her warm, sleepy body against his chest. Usually, he’d rip back the covers and poke her until she woke up but today’s a special day and the last thing he wants is for her to wake up cranky. So, he settles himself in the relatively unused rocking chair in the corner of their room and whispers quietly in her ear as he rocks back and forth, until she’s sitting up in his lap and yawning widely, rubbing her eyes with the back of her fists.
“Got school?” Lily asks as she rests her head against Buck’s shoulder and tucks her feet up into his lap, curling into a tight little ball in his arms.
“Mmhmm,” Buck hums as he strokes a hand over her head, “you’re a big girl and get to go to school like Carrie today. Wanna pick out an outfit?”
Lily nods tiredly and hops off his lap, making her way over to the chest of drawers. “I wanna look pretty, Daddy,” she announces as she tugs open her drawer and starts sifting through all her clothes. Buck watches in amusement as she flings one shirt after the next onto the floor. He’s got half a mind to tell her to pick them up when she’s done but he’ll allow his baby one more morning of being little.
Eventually Lily turns to him with a pair of sparkly tights in one hand and her beloved butterfly shirt (complete with wings) in the other. “Can I wear this, please?” she asks, batting her eyelids at Buck. He’s not sure where she learned to do that but he’s a complete sucker for it and folds like a deckchair every time.
“Of course, baby, you’re gonna look beautiful,” he says, and he means it. She’s the most beautiful butterfly he’s ever seen.
(No pressure) tagging @thewolvesof1998 @housewifebuck @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @fionaswhvre @spotsandsocks @steadfastsaturnsrings @bucksbackwardcap @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie @buckbuckgoose @weewootruck and @spagheddiediaz and anyone else that wants to do it! (Let me know if you want to be added/removed from this taglist btw)
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emilianadarling · 1 year
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when you get a comment so good and insightful on a fic that you have to get up and physically walk it off, like. that’s the GOOD STUFF right there. 
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kawarikisaki · 9 months
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A page 2 of this, because I can;
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And a bonus drawing too:
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