#but sometimes i think about how those minutes spent on my phone could be spent reading the book i said i didn't have time to read | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lymtw · 15 days

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When Toji finds out that you get yourself off when he's not around, he's blatantly offended. You recognize jealousy on Toji's face when you see it. It's not always pretty, but sometimes you think it's the most beautiful way you'll ever see him. He looks at you with those eyes. Those merciless, yet disarming, green eyes. You've told him before that they are one of your greatest weaknesses, and since then he uses them to his advantage at any given chance.

Shiu called Toji to notify him about a last minute mission, and though you begged him to stay, he reminded you of how this could be the one that brings both of you out of the struggle to make ends meet.

You were blinded by the amount of time you had spent with him. A week straight, no interruptions until Shiu called. It was one of the best weeks of your life, and that only further devastated you when you couldn't talk him out of leaving.

To make things worse, he wasn't able to reconcile with you and comfort you before he left. Shiu was rushing him, but all he could think about was how you turned your back to him, not even wanting to look at him before he left.

He answered Shiu's phone call for three seconds, an enraged, "I'm going. Jesus, fuck," before hitting the end call button. He stands at your shared bedroom doorway for a few seconds more seconds, still only getting a look at the back of your head. "I'll be back, princess. Gonna make it up to you, so wait up for me."

—

The mission wasn't difficult at all. It was so easy that he even attempted to contact you while he scouted the close quartered area. You didn't pick up a single one of the six calls he made, letting them all go straight to voicemail each time. It was irritating. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted you to listen to him, he wanted to tell you that he was rushing this mission so that he could sprint home to you.

Once he got his dirty work done, he tried your phone again, and again, but you were still letting his calls go to voicemail. So, he decided to text you.

Babe, answer.

I know you're upset, but i'm on my way home now

Baby, please

You read his messages, sighing before throwing your phone across the room. He never says no to Shiu when it's about a job. You've accepted this before, but after spending a whole uninterrupted week with Toji, feeling like things would remain that way for longer than they did, it was hard to remember that life was gonna merge back in again at some point. Your vacation hours would run out and you would have to go back to work, and Toji would be hired to hunt someone down again. It was just disheartening to find out that it would happen so soon, and that Toji would jump back into routine so quickly.

You see one of his shirts at the end of the bed and reach for it. It was flipped inside out and balled up, so you know it was worn by him. Just holding it in your lap, you can smell Toji's scent. You bring it up to your nose, and your heart begins to race. Toji wore this. He's not there with you, so that's the closest you'll get to him until he's physically in front of you again.

You bury your face into the rolled up shirt, inhaling deeply. The scent really works at pushing you to forgive him for leaving. His scent was debiliating. It brought vulnerability to a moment where it was just you on the bed you share with your man. You were missing him and wishing he weren't so obligated to his work. It stirred up feelings that couldn't be contained.

In this whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't reject the feeling that blazed in you the most. Your need for him. Your desire to have him all over you, with those hands that don't quit when you waver between feeling like you've had enough, and wanting more of him than ever.

You crawl back to the top of the bed, Toji's shirt dragging on the sheets beneath your palms. Your shorts are peeled off and tossed to the floor. You grab his pillow from his side of the bed, slipping it between your thighs before laying down flat on your stomach. You spread his shirt out on your pillow, and lay your face on it, allowing your mind to fill with thoughts of Toji. You used this internal shrine to fuel the languid roll of your hips against the pillow.

Toji called one more time. He was two minutes away from the house. Your phone is on silent mode, still on the floor on the other side of the room. Besides, you were too distracted to see your phone screen light up, anyway.

"We're literally here, already. Quit stressing," Shiu says when he sees Toji scoff after putting his phone down, a deadpan expression on the former's face. The second the van stops, Toji hops out, and without another word to Shiu, he slams the door shut.

The door barges open and slams shut behind him. Had you not been in your blissful haze, you would have been concerned. Toji's footsteps echo on the hardwood floor as he looks around in search of you. You're not on the couch, you aren't in the kitchen. Where the hell could you be?

"Ma," Toji calls, walking through the hallway. He peeks into the bathroom, not digging further because the light was off. He hears heavy breathing nearby, so he keeps going down the hall. It's one of two doors. Luckily, he chooses the right one.

He slowly creaks the door open, his shoulders dropping immediately at the sight on the bed. He sighs in awe, leaning against the doorframe.

Your hips rolled a little faster against the pillow now, your arms curled tightly around the pillow for your head. Your face remained buried in Toji's shirt, your moans muffled as you gnawed on the black fabric. You were so close to unraveling, you could feel it building up in your lower abdomen.

Toji really liked the little arch you made everytime you pulled back and then dragged forward to get the longest amount of friction between your legs. He could see your body trembling, and your moans were getting louder.

"Oh, Toji..."

The monster in his pants came to life, prominently bulging through his pants.

"F-Fuck... fuck me, please," you gasped, keeping your rhythm but grinding harder against the pillow. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." you moaned, higher in pitch as you reached the brink of orgasm. You dragged your panty clad cunt across the pillow one more time before completely falling apart on it. Cries of pleasure shamelessly filled the room as you continued to shakily rut against the pillow through your peak. You whimpered, your abdomen quivering with your shuddered breaths as you kept grinding.

Toji's boxers were drenched with precum, just from watching you go wild on a pillow. You were thinking of him while he was gone. You wanted him. You called his name while you got yourself off to his scent on a shirt he wore yesterday, and now you're just there. A breathless, panting, needy, beautiful mess.

Toji straightens his posture and enters the room. He sees your phone on the floor and picks it up, the screen lighting to show his most recent missed calls. His footsteps pull you out of your climactic trance, a starry-eyed look on your face when you see him approach the bed.

"Couldn't pick up the phone even once?" He presents your phone to you. "Too busy fucking yourself on my pillow?"

"Toji..." you start, waved off immediately by his hand.

"Heard my name in there a couple times, princess. Thought you were upset with me." His eyes rake down your body, focusing on the way your thighs clamp around his pillow. He sees the wet spot on the front of your panties, and for some reason feels envy begin to bubble up in his stomach. His hand reaches for the elastic band of your underwear, simply feeling the material that hugs your hips.

"I was," you mumble.

"Uh-huh. So, instead of waiting for me like the perfect angel I thought you were, you made yourself cum on a pillow?" He scoffs. "Don't know about you, but that's borderline selfish to me." He notices the involuntary pout on your face, your guilty eyes trying to hold eye contact while he scolds you. "I make you cum. I fuck you until your damn claws are digging into my back. Tell me, doll, and be brutally honest, for me. How is it not enough?"

"I missed you..." you say, a last resort. All you can do is back yourself up now.

He laughs in disbelief. You really were ruled by your own desire. "Try again, doll."

"I needed you, Toji, and the closest thing to your presence was your pillow and a stupid shirt you wore yesterday. We have a dirty clothes hamper, you know?" You point at the tall basket in the corner of the room. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you had thrown it in there."

"Show me," he says, a twisted grin on his face.

"What are you talking about? Show you what?"

He pulls the pillow through your thighs so that you're centered on it again. "Show me how much you missed me." He sits in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. "Show me how this flimsy replacement for me, made you lose your shit."

You sit there, flustered by his silence as he watches you, waiting patiently for his hands to get gentle friction from your skin.

"Oh, you need some help winding up? I was so sure you were good at this, seeing as though you made yourself spill, but, guess not." He looks down at the front of your panties. The wet patch was growing with no movement from you at all. This made his ego sky rocket, but also reminded him of how unpredictable you could be. "I'm not gonna hold your hand the whole time, baby. You're supposed to be putting on a show for me."

His grip on your hips tightens and he starts assisting you with rolling your hips against the pillow. He watches your face, a bright shade flourishing on your cheeks when you make eye contact with him. It was like he had a spotlight on you, and he was expecting you to perform well for him under the harsh light.

You let out a shaky breath, your palms settling on his thighs. Your head hung low, hiding the bashful look of bliss on your face. It was a gesture that Toji did not approve of.

"Let me look at you," he says, still maneuvering your hips in a constant rhythm. You lift you head but turn away from him. "Keep those eyes on me." He manually turns your head, one hand releasing your hip in favor of forcing you to look at him. His hand returns to its spot when he has your glossy eyes on his. "I'm right in front of you. There's nothing over there that demands your attention, so focus."

"Toji," you whine, humiliation flooding your body.

"Gonna let go in a few seconds, so you better fall into some sort of rhythm, doll."

You try to pretend like he's not there, but it's hard to do so when he's staring straight into your soul. Watching every expression you make, watching every tremble of your lips, every swipe of your tongue. You feel total vulnerability.

His hands are off and you stutter for a second before picking up again.

"There you go," Toji mutters. You took control, and ground yourself harder against the pillow.

"Toji, touch me, please." You pull your shirt off, baring more of yourself to Toji. His lidded eyes take in the newly exposed skin. He can see your breasts rising and falling now as you breathe, and he can't deny how badly he wants to hold them. He gives in, his hands going to your back to unclip your bra. His hands immediately grope your boobs, testing the malleability like he always does. They're just so perfect.

"Aren't you a sight... You just have to be so fuckin' pretty all the time, don't you?" He rolls your nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shudder at the contact. "Fuck, it's hard to stay mad when you look like that."

You feel that familiar ache begin to form again, when the roll of your hips starts leaving a lingering pleasure behind.

"You're about to cum again, aren't you?" Toji asks, knowing the answer. His eyes are narrowed on you, his dick twitching even if his blood is boiling at the thought of you enjoying this so much. You're doing those little arches again where you pull back and your stomach is quivering every time you drag yourself back forward.

"Mhm..." your nails dig into Toji's thighs, using them as leverage to facilitate your movement even more. "Toji, can I cum?" you ask, your submissive tendencies coming out right on time, as usual. You like handing over control to Toji, even if it means you don't get to cum when you're seconds away from being an absolute mess. "Toji, can I, please?"

How can he deny you when you've complied with what he asked you to do? How can he turn you down when you're so driven with pleasure that you look like you're about to cry just from slowing down for a couple seconds, awaiting his response?

"Only if you do it on my hand." His hands still your hips, holding you down firmly to stop your movement completely.

"What?" Your cunt aches from holding back. It's pulsing, craving the return of stimulation.

Toji's hand slides into the front of your underwear, cupping your slickened folds. "Do it on my hand," he repeats.

"O-Okay," you comply, once again. You start rocking against his hand, the roughness of his skin adding more friction to your sensitive core. You were bound to snap any second now.

"God, you're so wet, ma. All for me?"

"Mhm... all for you, Toji," you whimper. "Gonna..." you gasp. "Oh, fuck-"

Toji devours your expression and the shaky pressure of your silkiness against his hand. His pupils are enormous, ridding him of almost all the green in his eyes. He loves the sounds you make, he loves that you adjusted to the spotlight he put on you and gave him the best show, but most of all, he loves that this was all the product of you just missing him.

You're left breathing shakily, your head hung low, and your eyes lidded with exhaustion.

"Did it feel the same?" Toji's voice brings you back. His hand retracts from your underwear, and he gets a good look at what you left behind on him, wiping it off on his shirt. It'll be removed soon enough, anyway.

"Not at all." You giggle. You look at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "You're irreplaceable, baby. Inanimate objects don't do it for me like you do."

He chuckles. Your voice is adorable, all quiet yet still able to communicate your reassuring words.

"I need a nap," you mumble, retrieving your shirt from the end of the bed.

"Wanna shower with me, instead?"

Your attention directs towards him like a homing bolt of lightning. He gives you a smug grin, and you know exactly what he's thinking.

"Spare me some company and one of those massages you're so good at giving, yeah?"

You give him a deadpan expression, almost refuting him until he hit you at another point where he knew you were weak.

"Please, mama?"

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kaeddehara · 1 year

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DIRTY PICTURES AT WORK — NSFW

[ tighnari + cyno + al haitham ]

♱ warnings — cursing + mild nsfw + bondage

♱ notes — minus kaveh :(( ; lowkey rushed because school is kicking my ass right now

| TIGHNARI |

tighnari is almost even on his phone even after working hours. he doesn’t see a need for it but nevertheless still keeps it on him. sometimes he’ll receive messages or emails and chooses to ignore them when he doesn’t even know who they’re from yet. but there are occasions when he does have a break and he’ll look to see if anything is urgent or needs his attention. but when he sees messages from you or specifically pictures, he can’t help but wonder what that could mean. he hastily opens up your messages only a reveal a couple pictures of you on his bed only covered with some very thin fabric he could only assume was a new set of lingerie you’d gotten to wear.

“i know you don’t check your phone much at work so we can have an even better time when you get home <3”

he’s more than happy he’s alone not only so he wouldn’t get caught, but also to cover the obvious blush lining his face. his long, pointed ears are probably flushed at the point too. his eyes scan the images you sent again and he can’t ignore the way his cock is hardening at the sight of your pretty body. he made sure to send you a message quickly complimenting you, already so anxious for your response. he made sure to save those pictures to his phone so he could go get rid of the problem you gave him in the restroom. trying to hard to keep his embarrassing, pathetic sounds to himself while stroking his pretty cock to the sight of you. all the while, he’s mumbling to himself about how he’s gonna treat you when he gets home <3.

| CYNO |

cyno actually doesn’t even use his phone. he won’t look at it unless you or someone else tells him to. chances are, he can’t even work it that well because of how often he’s not on it. so you when decide to send him some pictures of your cute tits only being cupped by a thin piece of fabric with a sweet message about how you miss him, he has no idea about it until you mention it. you’re all excited when he gets home and ask cyno how his day was and all those little questions you always do. it’s only until you ask if he saw the pictures you sent earlier that he gets confused and shakes his head no. you huff in annoyance but the second he goes to check right in front of you, you can’t help but smile at the shock on his face. he scans those pictures and message so hard you’d think he brain had stopped working for a minute or something. it isn’t too long before he throws his phone to the side and pushed you down against the nearest piece of furniture to have his way with you. making sure to cup your pretty tits while humming apologies and also some questions about why you’d send him that during work unless you’re just asking for it.

“you can’t even wait till i’m home is that it? you want me to get hard at work just so i can punish you?”

and you want nothing more than to being just a smile in that moment with cyno pressing his lips right against yours to keep you from responding so he can have you right now and make up for what he missed.

| AL-HAITHAM |

al haitham is always pretty tedious about how he goes about most things. work or just mundane acts he always does with precision and focus. when he does have some downtime however, most of it is actually spent messaging you or responding to emails that he may have gotten while on the job. hes very good about keeping his business personal and too himself and that makes no difference when you send him certain messages. at first, al haitham doesn’t know how to react whatsoever. he’s practically in awe of the dirty messages you sent along with those pictures of you freshly out of the shower in whatever sort of sensual position you want him to see you in.

“keep working hard and you’ll have a reward when you get home <3”

he deeply exhaled and tried to cover the blushing mess that was his face. it wasn’t long before his break was soon over and he had to get back to work. all the while, his mind would not stop thinking and imagining all the things he would do to you when he got home. maybe some punishment was due just because you thought sending him pictures like that when you knew he was working. he decided to respond to your message as to not leave you hanging, waiting for his answer.

“you’d look better with some rope wrapped around those wrists and thighs”

he knew he sounded so serious but also considered how much you enjoyed his serious tone he’d use when he meant something.

“why not show me when you get home kay?”

he had to turn his phone over at all the perverted thoughts filling his mind every second. all because you wanted to send him those pictures in the middle of his working ours WHILE there were others around. you were in for such a harsh punishment when he got home.

#kaeddehara #genshin smut #tighnari smut #cyno smut #al haitham smut #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #al haitham x reader #tighnari genshin #genshin cyno #al haitham genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #rumi writing ^•ﻌ•^ฅ #rumi thoughts ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ #☕️#🗡️

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 2 months

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Secure in your Lap

ft Nanami Kento

a/n: I can't believe I finally wrote thisI So this was inspired by this ask from @sitarawrites. It was supposed to be a cute fluffy fic, but somehow devolved into this angsty piece, so idk. Although I wrote this fic with a desi/asian reader in mind, I think anyone with a difficult relationship with their parents can relate to this, and I hope it comes across that way.

Rating: 13+, nothing explicit or sexual

Warnings: difficult family dynamics, mentions of familial trauma, guilt, manipulation

Pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

Summary: A phone call from reader's mother results in her remembering all the reasons she's grateful for her now fiance.

Word Count: 2343

Nanami masterlist

It’s never a good day when your mother calls. Sometimes you wonder why you put up with it and allow her to test your boundaries, despite setting a schedule that you would not be calling her except for Tuesday and Friday nights.

Even the hour spent on those nights are tedious at best. They never make you feel better; it's all for her. It makes her feel better. And despite the fact that you have graciously made this time for her, she never seems to appreciate it. In fact, most of these conversations are one-sided. You’ll have your headphones in, while she chatters away, as you try to focus on other tasks, like folding laundry, or tidying up the general clutter that always accumulates in the living room, throwing in the occasional ‘uhm hm’ every few minutes so that she knows you’re still on the line.

You’ve learned to tune out most of the conversation because very little of it is ever relevant to you. Unless you hear a few key words such as ‘dad’ or ‘finances’ or ‘house’ you don’t really pay attention to the conversation at all. Because you know how most of these conversations go. They start with her talking about her day, complaining about her job. Then she complains about your dad, despite knowing you’ve heard it all before. Then it devolves into blaming other people for circumstances she’s in right now based on events that happened long ago.

When all of these topics are exhausted, she gets to her juiciest arsenal; you. Oh, the things she has to say about you, about how you were such a wonderful child, sweet and obedient and how you suddenly became this rough woman who she doesn’t know how to talk to anymore. Or how you’ve stopped visiting of late, that you’re never home for the holidays, and that she blames your boyfriend for this. Then it’s criticism of your life choices, starting with how you moved in with your boyfriend while unmarried, the fact that he’s not from the same ethnic background as you, or the fact that she blames your ‘attitude’ on him because he defends you from her each time.

Today it was about how you could do so much better than him, and you finally snap.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence, then with uncontained glee, she says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Well relationships sometimes don’t work out, it’s ok-”

“Because he asked me to marry him.” You finish bluntly, cutting her off. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore because he’s my fiance.” You wait for the bomb to drop.

“Oh.” Your mother’s voice sounds tight, like it’s been stretched taut between pins on a tacking board. “And when did this happen?”

“He proposed last Sunday.”

“And I’m finding out just now. You really must hate me…”

“Don’t do that,” You warn, keeping your voice deadly calm. You knew if you raised it or gave any signs that her words had affected you, it would give her a rush of satisfaction. “Either you’re happy for us or you’re not. Now which is it?”

“Well, it hardly matters now does it? Although I supposed I should be grateful you’re marrying him after all this time. There’s nasty gossip back in our community…so at least you’ve spared me from the embarrassing idea that you wouldn’t marry a man you’ve been living with like an unprincipled woman.”

“How lovely,” you said through gritted teeth. “Be sure to tell the community I have zero fucks to give them as well.”

“Language…I raised such a proper girl, when did you start saying filth like this?”

“I have to go mom. Your behavior will determine if you’re invited to the wedding or not.”

“You are the type to exclude your mother from your own wedding.I’ve known that for years. So it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise. Anyway, talk to you later…Friday night now?”

She disconnects the call and you sit there in disbelief, heart racing. Every time you stand up for yourself, you know it should feel like a victory but somehow, she manages to even steal that from you. You sigh and rest your head against the back of the car seat.

You had just driven home after a long day’s work and decided that it would be easier to talk to your mom in the car and finish it off since you didn’t want to detract from the peace you feel at home. You feel tears prick the back of your eyes and your throat feels like it’s closing in on itself.

Why did you let her in on your life? There’s a strange sense of loyalty to her despite her abuse of you. Because despite everything, there are certain things she did which she wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t loved you. Putting you through your degrees, both bachelor’s and master’s. Letting you live at your parent’s house for free when you were in between jobs. Letting you borrow their car to get to job interviews. There’s signs of love there but why did it have to come attached with this emotionally manipulative price tag?

You let yourself cry for a short while, then hold up your left hand to admire the engagement ring your now fiance had picked out. A watery smile breaks out over your face as you look at it. You feel vain when you allow yourself to do this, but you can’t help it. You weren’t really looking at it for it’s monetary value, but more so for what it symbolized; the peace and balance he brought to your life, the maturity your own parents lacked while raising you, and the security that it didn’t matter if you made a bad choice, he’d never make you feel worse about it.

Wiping away your tears, you turn off the car and quickly look at yourself in the mirror. Thankfully your makeup hadn’t smudged much and you could chalk up the tiredness in your eyes as lack of sleep. You take a deep breath before getting out and entering your home. Your fiance was unloading takeout containers from a bag as you entered. He looks up and smiles warmly at you.

“Thought I heard you in the driveway,” he says as he comes over to embrace you, his arms enveloping you with affection. Nanami presses a kiss to your forehead then pulls you in closer, tucking your head under his chin.

You let yourself rest against the warmth of his broad chest, the comfortingly familiar feel of his body relief to the turmoil inside your chest. Resting your cheek on his chest, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply.

“Y/n? Are you all right?”

Nanami always notices. There’s never a single moment when he’s out of touch with your feelings. He’s learned all the lines in your face, the way your different facial muscles contract or relax depending on how you're feeling. He notices the tension in your shoulders, the slight drop in energy in your step as you walk through the door. Nanami always notices.

You slowly shake your head no. The flurry of feelings inside you, the hurt, the disappointment, the inability to cut off your mom for good, the overwhelming feeling of being inadequate, a disappointment, churn inside you to the point that you feel like you may never come out of this cyclone feeling like a winner. It’s so complex that you’re not even sure where to begin or how to put it into words. Your thoughts and feelings tangle like a ball of string, knotting into a mess of strands that are impossible to separate.

“Kento.”

“Yes my love?” His hands run soothingly over your back.

“I need your lap.”

That was all you could say at the moment. The complexity of everything was too much to bear. Over the years his lap has become a safe space for you. A quiet, designated spot where you could feel everything you wanted to, without any judgment.

Nanami nodded wordlessly, gently taking your hand and leading you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you on top of his lap. Your feet wrap around his lower back, wedged between the sofa cushions and his body while your head rests on his chest, listening to his breathing and you try to match yours to his, a calming technique you’ve learned over the years.

His large hands play with your hair, stroking it, cupping the back of your head and gently pressing kisses to your forehead. He’s learned over the years that lap sessions meant you were in a state of distress and that it wasn’t his place to force you to talk. You would talk when you’re ready, if at all.

“Mom?” he asks softly, his voice fluttering through the top of your hair. You merely nod, the thought of explaining it too difficult to even form words. A deep hum of understanding echoes from his chest and you close your eyes at the comforting sound.

Everything about him screamed security. You remember one time breaking a cup while making your morning coffee, the distinct crack of shattering porcelain filling the kitchen. You had flinched, waiting for the tirade of blame and accusations of clumsiness to come at you, only to see Nanami rushing over to you, concern etched all over his face.

“Are you all right? You didn’t get cut?” His words had brought you to tears, that his primary thought had been you and your safety, instead of a very replaceable coffee cup. No one yelling at you for making a mess in the kitchen, or muttering under their breath that you had wasted a usable mug. Nanami had, in a befuddled state, watched as you came to his side, wrapping your arms around him. It wasn’t until 2 weeks after the incident had happened that you had told him what that moment meant to you.

And now here you were, again, allowing your mom to rob you of the happiness you had worked so hard to build. You're amazed at the patience Nanami has with you, at the way he always reassures you, never letting you forget your worth. That you're more than just your parents’ child. That you are a whole human being on your own, that has the right to live your life without their interference.

“I don't think I want my parents at our wedding.” The words fall out of your mouth. There's lingering guilt but deep down, you knew it was for the best.

Nanami adjusts himself on the couch and leans back against the cushions. Most of the time, he leaves handling your parents up to you, despite how much it bothers him that they ruin your mood every time. But there's understanding in his eyes.

“Not even your dad? I thought you wanted him to give you away.”

“My dad’s an enabler. He'll never come if I don't invite my mom. Besides,” you inhale deeply and continue, “The only person worthy of giving me away is myself.” You gaze into his warm brown eyes, feeling proud that you had come this far. This would be your achievement today. That you were able to say these words and believe them.

“That’s so very true sweetheart.” He gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Look at you, remembering your affirmations.”

Although it’s not much, you still feel yourself glowing at his praise. Growth on your end. “Besides, if they got involved, they’d hijack all the planning, blow it up into a grand ceremony even though that’s not what we want. It’s just easier without them.”

“Anything you want.” He brushes his lips against your hair.

“No, not anything I want. It’s your wedding too. I’d be ok if you wanted a ceremony. I imagine there’s lots of people you’d want to invite. I just won’t be inviting anyone from my side. Except for my best friend.”

He grasps your chin between his fingers and with sincerity asks you, “How did you imagine it?”

You consider this for a second. Previously, you had imagined the typical traditional wedding that people of your background were expected to have. But the image has been fading lately, and now, unburdened from your parents’ expectations, your mind immediately creates a picture.

“I want to do it at the beach. Just…no expectations, no one grumbling about how we skimped on decorations or other unnecessary things like flowers. I want…to walk down towards you on the sand, barefoot. Feel the ocean breeze on my face. There’s a small group of guests. Very minimalistic.”

He looks like he’s considering it for a moment but his expression doesn’t show signs of objection. “We could do that. Small wedding, intimate ceremony.”

“Really?” You look at him with love in your eyes.

“Really. I think all the people I want to invite would easily fit into this setting.”

You lean forward and wrap your arms around him tightly. There were simply no words to express how grateful you are for him, for his presence in your life. That you could actually be a family, just the two of you. You lean back to take in all of him, just sitting serenely on the couch, in this shared space the both of you called home now.

“Thank you, Kento.” You say quietly. You know it’s unnecessary, that his love is so very unconditional, no emotional price tags attached. “I know I’m not the easiest to love sometimes.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He draws you tightly to his chest. “It’s so easy to love you. Because every small thing you do is filled with love and consideration. Thoughtfulness. Emotion. And that’s enough. You don’t have to be more than that.”

Your heart swells as you hear his words, the only person to ever really understand just how much you needed to know those things.

“I’m enough.” You whisper softly, still on his lap, resting comfortably in his embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closing.

I’m enough…

all banners and dividers by @cafekitsune

#nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #desi reader #nanami kento x desi reader #desi writers #desi women #nanami kento x indian reader #desi tag #nanami kento x you

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inmyminditsreal · 3 months

Text

I Love It When You Ramble

Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You talk a lot, and freak out a lot, And Spencer's always there for you when you do freak out, or talk his ear off, In this you find out how much he actually loves it, or rather- you.

WARNINGS!!!! sweetest shit ever

Thanks for 200 followers!!!! I was eating such a fire chicken sandwich while writing this yall.

It begins..

It would be an understatement to say you could talk a lot. Sometimes you just get these ideas and they run right off your tongue before you can think. you wish you could turn it off, but you can't. It's not like anybody really encouraged it anyway. Multiple instances of you being shut down and shrugged off. This doesn’t really stop you from talking, you're really not as bright and shiny as you used to be, but you'd like to think you're still shining. Plus, you occasionally freak out over stupid shit that isn’t stupid to you. Typical. Now, you work at the BAU. Days, to months, now a year. You can still remember the night before your first day, running your mouth talking to yourself about who you should be. Loud? Quiet? you? It’s shitty to be you sometimes. you decided you'd just be. This wasn’t an easy decision, but it’s worked out pretty good so far.

The walk to work

You live about a ten minute walk from the office, you love this walk, and cherish it really. It's the time to get your thoughts together, you always try to convince yourself to wake up earlier to have “you time”. You bet it’s overrated. Trying to find any peace while working as a profiler isn’t so simple. Any “you time” is spent trying to get into the minds of sadistic psychopaths. The year you've worked at the office has absolutely fucked you up. Not that you're not fucked up already. you are. You found a new family at the bau, one that by not much comparison, is way better than yours. Though, you still talk too much, still get those same “Please shut up” looks. There are only two people at the office who swear they could listen to you for hours, Spencer, and Penelope. Even so, you think sometimes Penelope gets tired of you.

Walking into the office you're greeted with the sweet smell of coffee, old paper, and a smell you can only find in an office that you can't quite describe. It’s welcoming, you can’t deny that. you spot Spencer studying his computer and walk up to him.

“Hey spence.”

He lifts his head up and gives you his sickeningly sweet smile, “Hey come grab your chair and roll over here, I wanna show you something.”

There's a simple sparkle in his eyes that excites the shit out of you. That look makes your stomach flutter.

“Ooooooo! I’m excited. Is it that coffee mug I was showing you? Did you look at their website? I heard that it almost got shut down, which is crazy knowing how much detail and effort goes into their stuff. Still shocked that all of it could be handmade.” you ramble as you roll your chair next to him in a swift motion.

“I’m sorry to say it is not, it’s even better.”

He’s right. He is so right. It’s a photoshopped picture of Hotch with an anime body pillow. On a t-shirt. You start laughing so hard, you can't stop. And as one of those people who explode onto the floor in a silent wheezy laughter, you do just that. It’s an ongoing battle between you two to find the funniest thing Hotch could do, there has been him riding a unicorn, salsa dancing, in a maid costume, etc. This got you so good.

“Jesus, jesus. You win.” you say breathlessly as you stand back up. This obviously catches the attention of Derek and Emily and they walk over. They know about your stupid battle, and despite warning you that he’s going to find out, they of course participate.

“Oh my god? Oh my god.” Emily says as she looks reluctantly at the screen.

Derek just starts laughing. you're still giggling. Your phone buzzes suddenly, it’s a text from your mom.

“Oh god oh god oh no.” you mumble as you look at your phone. Your mom isn’t anyone you want to be hearing from. The simple text reads,

“How’s the bau?” You haven’t told anyone in your family you're a profiler, or where you work, or anything about your life.

Looks are exchanged between Emily and Derek.

“Are you alright?” Asks Emily.

You start to freak out.

“Yeah, Yeah yeah fuck okay yeah. I’m fine, it's alright. I just have to go really quick.” You start as you stand up and almost run out into the hall, pressing the elevator up. Staring at the buttons feeling like dogshit. Your brain is running its mouth, something you have gotten better at keeping in, is the outside talking. It’s still a part of you, but you hope it won't always be. It’s the only way people will listen, if you talk so much they can't look away, can’t ignore you. But at the same time you feel like they never do hear you. Tears welling in your eyes despite this being insanely stupid. The elevator doors open and you step in with a choked breath, someone slips in behind you.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks slowly while hitting the elevator button.

“No.”

He had seen you get nervous but never really freak out. your fists clenched, Skin pale, teeth chattering. You had told him. Only him. A bit about your mom and family.

“What’s happened sweetheart? ” He says with his arm gently landing on your shoulder.

You feel insanely stupid. You walk out of the elevator into the parking lot.

“My mom texted.”

“Oh god, are you okay?”

“Not really, I'm sorry.” My voice starts to break, you bite your lip. “She found out where I work. What am I going to do? Is she going to tell people, make up rumors? Try to get me to come back? I keep my life secret for a REASON. I don’t know how she found out. Do you think someone here told her? I-”

His arms wrap around you and grip you intensely. He takes your arms and places them around his waist. His hand lands on your head, stroking soft patterns into your hair. Gentle. Your hot cheek pressing firmly against the cool vest that’s wrapped around his chest. You exhale into his arms. He cups your cheek and caresses it slowly.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. She can’t hurt you.”

Words that make you melt. You nuzzle into his neck. Just to stay for another minute. Breathing in the scent of fresh laundry, books, and coffee. The only person you'd ever feel so comfortable to hold, and to let hold you, is him. You let go, you know if you don't now you won't ever want to. He looks down at you, for a little too long, then takes your still shaking hand and begins to walk into the elevator. You follow him.

That night, you cried a lot. Feeling so vulnerable that she knows where you are, god and probably who you're with. It’s always power with her. Can’t leave you alone but doesn’t love you enough to actually talk to you, to want you.

Couple days later

Now, You're on a case, in Canada. Triple homicide of teen girls. Typical, yet always disgusting. you're currently in the car, being driven to the nearest motel. You're sitting in the middle of the back, next to Spencer and Emily. You pull out the seatbelt to make it budge and lay your head on it. Uncomfortable, sure, but when you’re exhausted nothing else but rest matters. You start to drift asleep, smelling the leather of the seatbelt, and feeling it rub and glide against your skin. Hearing faint voices and the feeling of being carried out of the car feeling so warm. The subtle smell of coffee floating in the air.

You wake up. Soft hotel bed sheets cuddled into your arms, the familiar smell of well- Spencer, fills your nose. He’s next to you, looking so peaceful with the sunlight hitting him at the most cruel angle, shining on the curve of his nose, the curls of his brown husky hair. He looks so beautiful. All you want to do is lay in his arms and sink into his skin. It's truly tiring loving someone knowing what’s swimming beneath your eyes, in your mind. You know you'd love him and all of his horrors, you hope someone will love you and yours. His eyes flicker open, and land on yours.

“Mornin.” He mutters sleepily. It makes your heart flutter.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” You ask while sitting up to stretch. He does the same.

He looks at you and gives you a lazy smile, “Pretty good, I’m assuming you did too?”

“Yeah, yeah. But who moved me out of the car? That's the last thing I remember.”

“I did. I carried you from there onto the lobby couch, then to our room while we were getting checked in, since I was carrying you, they decided everybody should share, and we all agreed.”

You both stare at each other for a little while until you mumble, “Thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He says as you both get up to get dressed and start the day.

He just stares at you, with a look in his eyes, a feeling that you can’t make out.

“For everything. For carrying me in, and always listening to the things i say, for being so sweet, and cute, and hugging me, calming me down, for not ignoring me or wishing i would shut up, or atleast making it seem like you don’t want me to shut up, for spending time with me and making jokes with me, and making me fall in love with you-. Shit. Im sorry. Fuck. Just forget it.” You rub your hands over your face and rub your eyes, “sorry.”

“Okay I’m really sorry.” You mumble.

…

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you when you ramble, when you’re a stuttering mess, when you’re crying, when you’re scared, I love you when you get excited about things like coffee mugs, I love you so much when you’re laughing, when you smile and your whole face lights up. I love you when you get these ideas and they’re so smart I start to feel stupid. I love you when your teeth are chattering and you’re freaking out. I love you how you are- and I will love you forever.” He says so passionately that your knees feel weak. His hands cup your cheeks, silky smooth fingers and rough harsh fingertips. You kiss him, You kiss him like nothing else matters. Morning breath? Maybe, but the taste of loving Spencer Reid is stronger. He returns the favour and pushes you into him, his hands exploring your hips and waist, pulling you up into his arms. You nuzzle into his neck yet again and leave soft peppered pecks along his jawline and down his neck. He dances his fingertips up and down your palm and locks your fingers together.

“I love you, Spence.”

“God I love you too, Beautiful.”

Anyway bonus because im bored

Spencer's POV of carrying you out of the car!!

I see her laying against the seatbelt, a soft trail of drool tipping off the edge of the leather. I swear she’s the prettiest thing. We stop at the hotel, Hotch says,

“Should we wake her up?”

“No. I’ll take her in.” I add while gently unbuckling the seatbelt. Stopping to stare at her for only a second, or 20. A pang hits my heart as I just remember how much she worries, hoping she’s at least at peace in her sleep. I wrap my arms under her, slowly lifting her from the seat. She leans into my chest and I swear it’s the cutest thing I've ever seen. I love her so much. We get inside and I lay her down on the lobby couch, sitting by her side, her head now in my lap. I brush the hair from her face as softly as I can. We get checked in and I pick her up again and carry her into the room, silent footsteps down the hall.

I place her on the bed, take off her shoes, and put the covers over her. Suddenly she's awake, and I tell her to go back to sleep, but she insists on changing into her pjs. Apparently sleeping without them is torture. She’s perfect. Now she’s knocked right out, clinging to the bedsheets, pulling them all on top of her. Doesn’t matter. Rather freeze then take them away from her anyway. I go over today's events, and the last couple days, months, and the day she first got here, looking so beautiful, being so lovely and kind.

When I first met her she talked my head off, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear what she had to say, and it wasn't at all stupid. There's a part of me that used to talk a lot. That part is slowly coming back with her. I want her in my arms, I drift asleep thinking of a life with her.

luv yall

#spencer reid #criminal minds #fem!reader x spencer reid #bau #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencerreid #readerxspencerreid

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angel-kyo · 5 months

Text

Pay it no mind

Part III

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.

Previous: Part I, Part II

----------------------

Ikeda Haruki and you had met while you were in high school, although he did not attend Jujutsu Tech. In fact, he did not know anything about the jujutsu world or curses, the reason being that he was a non-sorcerer.

“Oh, I see… So you think they discontinued it?” Haruki looked at the products you had been holding just a couple minutes ago, touching his chin with his finger.

You shrugged. “I think so. This is the third store I try, and they just don't have it” He had asked you if you lived nearby, to which you had admitted that you did not, but your search for a certain shampoo brand had led you to that particular store.

He had laughed, but still said he totally understood, and that he would also search all of Tokyo for his favorite tea if it ever disappeared.

That made you laugh a little. “It’s not quite the same.”

You had forgotten how easy it was to engage in conversation with Haruki. That is how you quickly learned that he had only returned to Tokyo a couple months ago but was becoming a regular at that store; that he had spent some time abroad, but he had come back for work and now lived alone; and that he was sorry he did not do more to stay in touch with you.

The sun was setting when you exited the store and were about to part ways with Ikeda. The shine in his eyes reflected the colors of a sunset sky and, although nothing like the shades of blue you had grown to love, his gaze made you nostalgic for a time, years ago, when you were younger, and your hearts were probably lighter.

“Would it be okay if I asked for your number?” Haruki’s face showed just a bit of embarrassment, “I’m not trying to be creepy!”, he blushed and laughed nervously as you smiled. He was still as charming as you remembered him. “It’s just that it is nice finally seeing a familiar face. I’m sorry if that sounds…”

“No, I get it”, you interrupted him. “Things must feel different after being away for so long. I would love to catch up sometime.” You put out your phone to get his number.

***

“Don’t you dare mix your sweets with my popcorn, Satoru!” you warned him from your small kitchen.

It had been almost two months since Gojo had rejected you, but your friendship had somewhat returned to normal.

Of course, there had been weird moments between you two, like when he would mindlessly drop an arm around your shoulders and lean too close to your face, or when he would fix your uniform or try to feed you something sweet. Those things had been just part of your usual dynamic weeks ago, but now, he would back off a bit, sometimes, even before seeing your flustered face.

Now, he would do his best to just point out you needed to fix the button of your jacket and put a sweet in your hand instead of taking it straight to your lips. You did not know, but he had resolved in his heart that, if he could not give you a clear answer, at least he did not want to give you any mixed signals.

You carried the drinks to the living room and sat next to Gojo. “Are we really going to eat all of that?” You observed the variety of food in front of you that Satoru had brought and unpacked.

“You underestimate us.” He smirked and put his arm around you. He was trying, truly, but old habits die hard.

“We are going to have a hell of a stomachache after this.” You sighed and scooted closer to him. Old habits really die hard. “So, what are we watching first today? I think it is your turn to pick.”

It was usual for you and him to meet at one of your places every once in a while, to have a movie marathon and eat as much as you humanly could. Albeit unsaid, both of you were glad you were not giving up that tradition despite the events of the last few weeks.

“That one where the kid dies at the end.” He shoved a bunch of popcorn in his mouth

You glared at him. Satoru was a movie enthusiast but also a walking spoiler alert.

***

2:47 am

Your eyes opened and adjusted to your poorly illuminated living room. You had fallen asleep at some point during your third movie and judging by the position you and Satoru were in, he had been deeply asleep for a while too.

“Satoru”, you whispered. “Hey, wake up. Your neck is gonna hurt if you stay like that.”

His sunglasses had fallen off his face, so he recognized your ceiling immediately. Had he dozed off? His arm tightened slightly around your waist, and he looked at you.

“We fell asleep.” Your face had been pressed to his chest, but you were moving his arm away to sit up, your eyes on the tv screen showing the credits of the movie you had probably not finished watching. He looked at them too; his neck was a bit sore.

“What time is it?”, he asked.

You stretched before reaching for your phone. “Almost 3:00 am. We should head to the bedroom.” You yawned.

Now that woke him up. “The bedroom?!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You are staying, right? But you cannot take the bed if you don't want the futon this time.” It was not a big deal that he stayed. After all, he would do it most times.

Since you did not have a guest room, he had insisted on getting a futon so he could stay over when he was 'too tired' to go home, although he would sometimes steal your bed and force you to take the futon instead because 'it was more comfortable' and 'best friend privilege'.

Of course, you had argued that he could just teleport home if he wanted, but he would put the futon in your bedroom anyway or in the living if it was a summer night and stay over.

“Right...” he said.

It took you a second too late to realize that he might have thought it to be weird. Sleeping in the same room as him used to be one thing, but now would he not prefer going home?

"Alright." You nodded and went to the bathroom in a hurry to shake away any awkwardness.

Gojo felt relieved when you left him alone, hoping his expression had not been too revealing. He sat up straight and ran his fingers through his hair. His face felt hot, and what on earth had he imagined at the mention of your bedroom?

He thought of how close you had been just a moment ago and how easily he had relaxed and fallen asleep with you in his arms.

We fit perfectly.

He smiled at that thought but immediately felt the urge to scold himself.

What is wrong with me? We are friends.

----------------------

Note: Can you tell I enjoy picturing Gojo in denial?

Thanks for reading!

Next: Part IV

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #drabble #gojo fanfic #pay it no mind #gojo fluff

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v4mpgutz · 5 months

Note

can u do smth where ethan buys reader a promise ring pls 🥹 ur fics are amazing 💜

Paper Rings, Ethan Landry [ ONESHOT ]

— i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings

non-gf ethan landry x gn reader -> dating

note: THIS REQUEST AHHH i've been waiting to base a fic off of this song for a while i kiss ur head and i'm glad you enjoy my fics !!

warnings ! — none, just a whole lot of tooth-rotting fluff! + reader doesn't have a specified gender but this was written with an afab reader in mind — nothing points to this fact though ! :)

you and ethan hadn't been together for all that long, a year and a half at most. it took him a while to comprehend the depth of his feelings for you and it was really scary for him.

growing up having been pressured to constantly be as good as or better than his older brother really messed with his head. he constantly had doubts that he wouldn't be good enough for you and that you deserved someone better — someone that wasn't him.

over the course of the first few weeks you and ethan had actually been together, there was cute little dates, hand-holding, giggling into little (sometimes awkward) kisses and him trying to get a grasp on his feelings.

majority of the time he couldn't quite put a finger on what emotions he was feeling. sometimes he thought he was angry when he was really just sad, sometimes he thought he was anxious when he was actually excited.

with you, though? he'd never understood an emotion so clearly in his life.

his heart was filled with love for you, that he knew. love so pure and soft and gentle that it felt like almost nothing could tarnish it. you made him understand himself better — you encouraged him when he would beat himself up over bad grades, you loved him; and he loved you too.

that was precisely the reason why he found himself buying you a promise ring. he'd seen you eyeing a specific one each time you shopped together and you'd talked about promise rings to him a few times.

originally, he didn't know how to feel about those because what if it jinxed your relationship? what if you ended up splitting off and going your seperate ways?

however, after a few weeks just spent thinking it over — all up in his head about it; he decided he wanted to get you one. it'd be a surprise, of course.

one night he had your hand next to his, a measuring tape over the width of both of your fingers. he acted like he was simply comparing handsizes, laughing when you pointed out that he was measuring the wrong way.

"oh, you're right, baby," he chuckled but made a mental note of the size of your left ring finger.

the next time you went to the mall together he kissed your cheek gently before pulling his hand away from yours. "i'll be back, angel," he told you, "just need to go to the bathroom."

you nodded and sat on a bench in the food court, mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for him.

he made sure you weren't looking before he snuck off to the jewellery store, wanting to be as quick as possible so you wouldn't get suspicious. as soon as he was being served, he told the employee the exact ring and size.

it was made to be, it seemed, when the older woman told him that was the last of that ring in that size they had in stock.

he smiled brightly and thanked the woman, paying (quite a hefty price) and slipping the little box into his pocket. he'd get a matching one for himself later, he thought.

when you'd both gotten back to your apartment (which pretty much belonged to the both of you now), he'd sat down with you on the sofa. he kissed your hands gently and pulled you into his chest, the two of you sitting there together in silence for a few minutes — just in eachother's company.

he felt his stomach bubbling up with nerves but pushed them back down. nothing was going to ruin this moment. he cleared his throat to which you perked up, pulling away from him to look into his eyes.

"i don't know much about how to do these things without being awkward," he mumbled as his eyes looked anywhere but at you.

"i wanted this to be special and i know that it's been hard... dealing with me and all, but now i know that i can trust you. i really feel like.. like you understand me better than anyone else ever has before and i can confidently say that i love you."

he took a shaky breath, a smile plastering itself onto his face.

"i know we're still young but i truly think i want to spend the rest of my life with you," he went on as your eyes widened in fear somewhat. "th— this isn't a proposal!" he quickly reassured you, to which you calmed.

he pulled the box out of his pocket and presented the ring to you, "not a proposal — but a promise that one day, there will be one."

he watched as your eyes lit up, tears gathering along your waterline as you let out a choked sob with a smile. you hugged him tight and took the ring, holding it tenderly in your hands.

ethan watched as you slipped it onto your left ring finger, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

"thank you so much, eth. it's beautiful, i love you."

the brunette-haired boy looked away, bashful before turning back to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "there's honestly nothing i wouldn't do for you."

you admired the ring before glancing at his own left hand, "where's yours?" you asked with a frown.

he laughed awkwardly and chewed his bottom lip, "didn't have the money to get it but i knew i had to get yours today."

ethan looked up, confused as he saw you get up from the couch and heard the jingle of your keys. "where are you going?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"we're going to get your half of the promise."

your boyfriend simply stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. "i don't have enough money though? i just said that."

you smiled at him, eyes squinted slightly, "i'm buying it. promises are fifty-fifty."

i loved writing this sm omg

#— river's sticky notes ✩˚｡⋆#— anons ★#— river's inbox 💌#fanfic #writers on tumblr #ethan landry #scream 6 #x reader #ethan landry x female reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x gender neutral reader #ethan landry x male reader #ethan landry fluff #fanfiction #scream #scream oneshots #jack champion #jack champion x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year

Text

DATE NIGHT

A/N: some sweet soon-to-be-dad!harry content, bc is probably one of my absolute favs!!

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

SUMMARY: You're supposed to go on a date night, but when Harry comes home he finds you, his pregnant wife asleep, so he changes your plans for the evening.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Date nights are always Harry’s favorite. It doesn’t matter what you do, he just simply craves the alone time with you, whether you go out for dinner, catch a movie or go to a concert, it’s all about quality time spent with the person he loves the most.

He hasn’t had the chance to take you out anywhere these past months, his schedule has been hectic, he has to squeeze a lot into a short period of time since he is about to go on a massive break, taking on a role he’s been dreaming of his whole life.

He is going to become a dad in just about two months.

It’s also the reason why he is so excited about having a date night, he knows how little time you’ll have for romance once the baby arrives, so he wants to make the best out of the remaining of the time you have alone.

His last meeting of the day runs late so he heads home in a hurry, texting you from the car on his way, but he gets no response. The drive is about thirty minutes, he checks his phone every chance he has, double texting you, asking if everything is alright every time he stops at a red light. He can’t help but think of ways you could have fallen and hurt yourself or the baby, or maybe you’re stuck in the bathtub because you can’t push yourself up. The latter wouldn’t be the first time it happens. Your belly has been growing rapidly and moving around has become a challenge sometimes, though you’re handling the ups and downs of pregnancy like a true hero.

When Harry pulls up at your home you’ve been sharing for the last three years, his heart is hammering in his chest, afraid that something happened. Your car is parked in the garage and the lights are on in the house so he knows you’re home, but you still haven’t answered any of his texts.

“Babe?” he calls out, walking in, waiting for an answer, but nothing comes. He can hear the TV on in the living room, so he rounds the corner, following the voices, he picks up that it’s a rerun of that awful reality you’ve been obsessed with. He is just about to call out for you again, but then he sees you.

Curled up on the couch, a chunky blanket messily thrown over you, the TV illuminating your makeupless, sleeping face that’s squished into the pillow. The anxiousness quickly turns into warmth in his chest as he stops and admires the sight of you peacefully napping. An empty plate is set on the coffee table, you probably ate the leftovers from yesterday for lunch, there’s a half empty water bottle on the ground and an empty pack of your favorite snack next to the couch on the round. He can clearly see you snacking all afternoon, lounging on the couch, watching Netflix and having a chilling day while he works. He only has one more week of hustling before he can spend all his time with you and he can’t wait to be lazy with you.

Checking the time he sees that the two of you should be leaving to the restaurant in about twenty to make it there in time for the reservation. He knows you would want to do your hair and makeup nicely and that takes way more time. He also knows you won’t have the energy to leave the house judging from how you haven’t even moved since he arrived.

Kneeling down next to the couch he gently brushes your hair out of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” he softly says, gently rubbing your shoulder. You stir in your sleep, burying your face deeper into the pillow that makes him smile. “Wake up, let me see those pretty eyes, I missed them so much all day.”

You hum and scrunch your nose before slowly blinking your eyes open. It takes a few moments to process what and who you see.

“Harry? You’re home already?”

“It’s past seven, babe,” he chuckles softly.

“Shit, I fell asleep,” you groan closing your eyes. “I was so tired, I couldn’t keep my eyes open!”

Harry’s not surprised, you’ve been extremely sleepy since the beginning of the pregnancy and he doesn’t blame you, growing a human must be quite tiring.

“It’s alright.”

“What time is it? Let me just get ready…” you start pushing yourself up and he helps you into a sitting position, but doesn’t let you stand. Instead, he sits beside you, placing a hand over your belly.

“Let’s ditch the restaurant,” he suggests, making it look like it’s his idea so you don’t have to tell him you don’t actually want to leave the house.

“But it’s our date night! I promise I will shake myself up.”

“Date night is to spend time together. Why don’t we do it at home this time? I can run us a nice bath, give you a massage and then cuddle.”

You blink at him for a few moments and he already knows he won you over with his change of plans.

“Can we eat something in the tub too?”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “We still have some of that vegan lasagna, right? I’ll heat that up.”

“That sounds awesome,” you smile and leaning over you steal a quick kiss.

Harry takes care of everything while you go up and change out of your clothes, putting on your favorite fluffy robe. Sitting on the bed you reply to some texts you missed along with Harry’s.

“Bath is ready,” Harry appears in the room and he helps you up from the bed, the two of you walking into the bathroom hand in hand.

“H, this looks so good!” you gasp when you see that he has lit candles, the food is by the tub on a tray and he used your favorite bath salt, the water smells amazing.

“Then let’s get into it,” he kisses the side of your head.

You’re done with undressing pretty fast since you only have your robe on, so you sit on the edge of the tub, watching him strip out of his clothes.

“What?” he chuckles as he kicks his pants off, leaving him in nothing as he throws his clothes into the hamper.

“You look so hot, no wonder you knocked me up so easily,” you bite into your bottom lip seductively and you love how his cheeks turn slightly pink.

“Don’t think those two things are linked, but okay,” he mumbles with a shy smirk as he walks over to you and helps you into the water, making sure you don’t slip.

When you’re settled in the warm water, he climbs in behind you so you can lean back against his chest, his arms circling around you, settling on your belly. You eat and talk about your day, he tells you about his meetings while he gently massages your back, paying extra attention to the spots he knows hurt the most.

“I’m sorry we didn’t go out tonight,” you hum, your head lying on his shoulder, his hands wandering over your body, his fingers caressing the skin on your arms, chest and stomach as if he is mapping your body.

“Don’t be. I just wanted to spend time with you and that’s what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it weird that soon it won’t be just the two of us?”

“Terrifying and exciting at the same time,” he admits with a small chuckle.

“I think we’re gonna be cool parents.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, we are pretty cool now,” you point out. “When I’m not like a tired sloth,” you add chuckling.

“A sloth?” he laughs behind you, his chest rumbling underneath your back.

“That’s what I feel like,” you shrug smiling.

“Then you’re a cute, sexy, pregnant sloth.”

“I think that’s the first time anyone called a sloth sexy.” You poke his thigh next to you playfully.

You soak for a little longer until the water runs cold, then you get out and Harry insists helping you lotion your body, taking his sweet time with your belly. He dresses you in your softest pajama set and cleans up in the bathroom, not letting you move a finger. When you’re both in bed finally, you make yourself comfortable with your pregnancy pillow that’s been essential to your nights for the past few months. You felt bad when you couldn’t get comfortable snuggling to Harry anymore and you even cried when you first tried the pillow and knew you’d need it to have a good night sleep. Being the sweetest person alive, Harry was the one who tried to make you feel better about it, telling you it’s alright, he completely understands and he just wants you to feel good.

Harry makes himself comfortable next to you, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other one reaching over, his hand plastered to your belly, this is his usual pose and you love it too, because even though you can’t cuddle him, you still feel connected to him.

“Date night next weekend? I promise I won’t turn into a sloth,” you smile at him sleepily.

“Okay. But tonight was great too, I love being with you, no matter what we do,” he smiles back.

Humming you reach out and cup his face in your hand, smiling at how he snuggles into your touch before you drop your head and slowly fall asleep.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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m00nsbaby · 8 months

Note

BABES HEAR ME OUT- Ever heard of the song "the moon will sing" by the crane wives?

I was wondering if I could get "I loved you like the sun; with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me"? With the moonboys 🥺💗

I CRIED???? Y'ALL NEED TO STOP SENDING ME SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE THE BABIES BECAUSE I CRY LIKE AN IDIOTLKSDJFKLG

I LOVED THIS ONE, HERE WE GO

The moon will sing.

Moon system x reader.

Tags & warnings. A bit of angst (you know me), fluff and some self steem problems.

Word count. 2.4k

Summary.

I loved you like the sun; with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me.

Over time, you came to understand that this couldn't be, at least not in a romantic sense, but you had no problem accepting that the four of you worked incredibly well as best friends.

You loved them, and there was no greater reward than seeing how your love had been a significant support in their lives. Sometimes, there's nothing like watching the love of your life grow. However, no matter how hard you worked, there was something they still couldn't shake.

But the silver lining was that many times, they just needed a little reassurance.

In Steven's case, it was always his memory.

As it turns out, Steven, for logical reasons, didn't remember much of his life, and he never really thought about it until now when he was in this strange balance with Marc and Jake. Even though the three of them stood thinking, "Hey, this is better than how I felt in the past," there were things in his head that they never expressed because sometimes comfort gives you a false sense that you shouldn't complain about your current situation.

That you should be grateful.

And Steven Grant was thankful for many things. He was grateful for Marc and Jake, grateful for you, grateful for his life, and even grateful for Gus's new friend. So when throughout the day he heard or saw something that triggered a false deja vu, he suppressed the urge to cry, knowing that it was probably a memory of Marc that he wasn't identifying correctly.

Much of his life was spent questioning what had been real and what was a product of his imagination.

"Listen, listen," you whispered, looking at him intently.

Both of you were sitting on his carpet right in front of the sofa, your backs against the couch and your shoulders touching.

You were introducing Steven to the magic of Green Day, and he was the only one who could tolerate your habit of pausing every song to say, 'this is the best part,' in a short 3-minute period.

Well, this one was really the best part. The build-up during the 'Til then I walk alone' always gave you shivers, and it did the same for him, but for a completely different reason.

It was silly to think that a young Marc Spector, unsupervised and burdened with a thousand problems to deal with, didn't take advantage of every opportunity to distract himself in any way he could, like at parties.

In 2004, at just 16 years old, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" was one of those things that made you say, "Woah, this is definitely the best thing humanity has ever created." It was at one of those ridiculous parties that Billie Joe Armstrong figuratively opened his eyes.

Suddenly, Steven wasn't with you anymore. He was on an uncomfortable couch surrounded by cigarette smoke, and the taste of beer lingered in his mouth. He could deal with the memory, but not with the flood of feelings that hit him like a runaway truck. The feeling of being a lost child, without parents, without friends, without his brother, and without any desire, fighting not to sink as the days went by.

Sometimes, it was a good reminder of how much of an anchor he was for Marc.

He ripped out his earpiece before the song could finish, and he looked at you with fear. You furrowed your brow, confused but not as detached from the situation as you had been in the past. It wasn't the first time.

"Steven? Are you okay?" you whispered, putting your phone aside to look at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I…," he stammered, closing his eyes for a few seconds just to catch his breath. "It was a… It's nothing."

You placed your hand on his cheek to seek his gaze, and he immediately melted at your touch, his head tilting toward your hand like a puppy seeking affection.

"What happened?"

"I… I remembered."

Oh, so that was it.

You nodded slowly, and your arms slid around his shoulders, he hugged you by the waist to pull you closer to his body. You learned with time that Steven's love language was physical touch.

You felt him squeeze harder with his arms, and his forehead rested on your shoulder.

"It's okay if you want to cry," you knew he was holding back.

Like clockwork, you felt your T-shirt getting wet from his tears.

"I can't anymore," he whispered with difficulty, his body experiencing small spasms from crying. "I can't anymore, I don't know what's… I don't know," he stammered, and you nodded slowly.

"I understand." The position was uncomfortable, but you weren't willing to let go. "I understand, Steven."

"I don't know what's real, I don't know." He took a deep breath. "I was at… at some kind of party," he tried to laugh at his silly memory while sniffing.

"And were they listening to Green Day? It sounds like fun," you joked back with a slight smile, your fingers combing his curls to your liking. "Marc definitely had a Green Day phase."

You managed to make him laugh, even with his difficulty in breathing.

"Maybe," you whispered, trying to get his attention again. "We can talk to him; he'll help you remember."

"He doesn't like to talk about it."

You moved away just enough to look him in the face. Your hands traveled from his shoulders to his cheeks, which you squeezed with your fingers while giving him a small smile.

"He'll understand," you whispered, the tip of your nose brushing against his. Finally, you saw him smile back.

"Do you think so?"

"I do," you confirmed, wrinkling your nose at him affectionately.

For Marc, it all depended on embracing his inner child, both literally and symbolically, the one who was always scared and never knew how to express it.

The sound of one of his crystal glasses shattering made you look up from the sofa. He was looking at the floor in annoyance, and within seconds, you heard a second crash, him hitting the nearest wall.

"Shit!" he exclaimed loudly. You sighed heavily and got up to go to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I… yeah," he said, looking at his hand, which had a cut on the palm. You could hear his heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling in front of your eyes.

"Calm down."

"I am calm," he replied immediately, looking at the juice stain on the floor.

"Marc, it's okay." The glass crunched under your shoe, and you almost gave him a nervous tic. You were making an even bigger mess; you were going to get him in trouble.

But with whom?

Who was going to punish him?

"Look at that." Your voice was soft, and he found it ridiculous how your expression wrinkled in concern when you noticed the cut on his hand.

He'd been impaled once; this was nothing.

"It doesn't hurt."

You ignored him, placing your hand under his to bring it closer to your face. Your other hand removed the tiny shard of glass stuck in his skin, and he hissed; it hurt a little, just a little.

Very little.

"Come on, let me…" You whispered, bringing his hand with you. This time, his shoes completed the mess beneath both of you. You turned on the sink and held his hand under the water.

He stayed still, obedient to you. He could feel the rhythm of his heart slowing down.

He watched as you put soap in his palm and then rubbed it with yours as if he were washing his hands himself. It stung, but he paid little attention when you were so close. The genuine concern you felt for him made Marc's stomach turn; this hadn't happened to him before.

The blood stopped flowing within seconds; it wasn't anything serious, just as he had thought.

"Do you think you need a band-aid?"

He thought you were teasing him until he saw you smile with your characteristic tenderness. He slowly shook his head, not knowing what to say.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and you did the same.

"Oh, that."

"Take off your shoes." He moved to the dry part of the floor, doing as he had asked you to do. His tone was so gentle that your smile unconsciously grew on your face.

This was the point you wanted to reach with him.

"Let me pick up the glass, okay? Get a towel to dry this."

And together, as if they were on a children's show, you cleaned up the mess Marc had caused, without raising your voices or arguing.

"Do you want to choose the movie for tonight?" You gave him a little nudge with your shoulder as both of you finished washing your hands, and he pushed you back in the same playful manner.

"I thought that was a given." It's amazing how quickly you can forget your mistakes when no one scares you for making them.

You were willing to stay as long as it took for Marc to understand that accidents were just that—accidents. If only someone had told him that many years ago.

The rest of the night passed as if nothing had happened. He hugged your shoulders, and you ate popcorn from the bowl resting on his stomach. Marc chose the worst action movie you had ever seen, but you enjoyed his silly comments as well as his laughter when the effects were terrible.

A broken glass wasn't the end of the world; it never was.

Topics with Jake were always deeper, both literally and symbolically; the conversations you had about the existence of human beings always seemed like a philosophy class.

Because unfortunately, he still had trouble feeling like a person with autonomy, not just an extension of Marc and Steven's needs.

He wasn't just a tool.

"I don't understand why they need another room." He looked around with a furrowed brow, still not sure how you managed to get rid of all the clutter in that room.

It was completely empty, except for an old desk that Steven refused to get rid of. It was the perfect space.

"For you."

"Huh?" He looked at you as if you were crazy.

"For you. I talked to Steven and Marc, and they both agree that you deserve to have a space for yourself that isn't your car."

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't spend that much time in my car."

"Steven says you like the car more than him."

He thought about it for a moment.

"Well, that's true."

This time, you rolled your eyes.

"But…" He continued. "It's not necessary. I'm sure Steven's books would make better use of the space. Why do I need a room?"

"For listening to music? Reading? Watching those dramatic afternoon novelas? Watching pornogr…”

"Fine! I get it!" He wasn't thrilled with the idea. You could see it as he continued to look around the room, not sure if he was planning something or simply disdainful of the idea.

"Do you like it?"

"No."

He was the most difficult person you knew; that wasn't a surprise. But he gradually warmed up to the idea, especially when you brought him two different posters, each with a completely different painting printed on them.

Café Terrace at Night by Vincent Van Gogh.

Vs.

Las Meninas by Diego Velazquez.

It took him hours to decide; every now and then, he would stop to look at the paintings and examine every detail.

"Did you know…" He caught your attention as you organized some books on the desk, new books he had chosen. "Van Gogh didn't sign this painting?" He pointed at the poster, and you looked up to analyze it as if you were going to refute it. "Historians know it's his because he mentioned it in letters before."

Well, that was something you didn't know.

Steven probably said he knew it from the headspace.

"I had no idea."

"I think I'll go with that one."

"Then that's the one."

And so began the extensive collection of meaningless decorations on the walls of Jake's new room. He had a thousand photos with no order, pictures of Marc and Steven (anyone who walked into the room would think he just had very high self-esteem), pictures of you, cats he saw on the street, his car or cars he thought were cool but would never be his.

He had photos of the moon and Queen posters. Papers that made him look like one of those hoarders from the reality shows you watched with Steven, because when he realized he could find a bit of his reality in the smallest things, he didn't stop.

A parking meter ticket, some from the corner convenience store where he bought spicy potato chips that painted his fingers red, the wrapper from one of his favorite candies, some tickets from different movies at the cinema, that note you left on the passenger seat wishing him a good day.

The collection was so extensive that you'd probably never finish listing it.

Oh, he also had a shopping list from Steven.

He never thanked you out loud, but the fact that he started using the space was enough for you. Ah, and the way he lifted you in his arms to make you laugh.

"Jake! No, no, no!" Your legs were wrapped around his hips, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

"You're amazing, you know that, cariño?"

"Why?"

"Just because you are." He kissed your entire face, oh, never the lips; he didn't cross that boundary even though the temptation was constant, especially when your huge eyes fixed on him in this way, your forehead resting against his.

"Just because you are." He repeated with the same smile.

The truth was, neither Steven, nor Marc, nor Jake had much in mind about what their life was like before you, and that's why they were afraid to think about what it would be like without you in it.

Maybe that was why they were so afraid to take that extra step, why they enjoyed your love the way they did, without giving you the exchange you deserved.

What if it didn't work out? Could they live with the memory of how well you had treated them?

What were they before you?

And what would they be if you weren't there?

None of them wanted to imagine it.

So every night, Steven held you tighter, praying that you would never realize that you deserved more than this, more than fixing someone broken; Marc told you stories you had heard before, as a way to let you know how much he cared, how confident he was that if someone wouldn't judge him, it was you; and Jake kept buying your favorite chocolates as if that would be enough to keep you, oh, and sometimes he kept the wrappers.

If you ever decided to leave, those would be proof that you were once with them.

Mk's tag list :)@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133

this one wasn't that bad, right?

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earthry · 9 months

Text

How to Tempt Your Papas (Headcanons)

How to get your papas home early, inspired by this post (also mentioned in Copia's section).

sfw mostly, a little spicy imagery in some parts, gn!reader

Primo

Primo has such a soft spot for you. All you really have to do is send him some really sappy message telling him that he makes you so happy and you love him very much and he just melts.

He’ll send an equally long message about how he feels the same, how he loves you without requisite and that you make him want to be a better man every day of his life. That’s your hook and line.

For the sinker, send him a selfie of you in one of his sweaters all cozy in bed with a empty space beside you with a text saying ‘I miss you so much, I’m so cold and lonely without you :(‘ no matter how cheesy you think it is, it will capture good ol’ peepaw’s heart.

He’ll go ‘Oh no :( I left my dearest all alone, how could I? Shall I come home early tonight, amore mio?’ And voilà he’s home in less than half a hour. Mission successful.

Secondo

You’d think if you send nudes it’ll rile him up enough to come home and have his wicked wiles with you but no. This man is shameless. He’ll get off right then and there to your picture and send one back of his handiwork with a promise to absolutely ruin you later for trying to tempt him.

The first time you do this you learn that while it is a good motivator, it does not get him home any faster. Kind of backfires because when he sends you a well-framed shot of himself in hand entirely spent and messy, you're the one getting all hot and bothered now.

What really gets him home quickly is your home cooking. Make any authentic dish (especially with his mom’s recipe) and mans will be home in less than 20 minutes because that shit is fire when it’s hot out the oven.

He knows if he waits it’ll either get soggy or cold and he hates re-heating food. If you make his favorite he’ll be back in even less time.

Terzo

Where nudes don’t bring Secondo back, it’ll send Terzo packing for home. He’ll be back so fast you barely have time to put your phone down. He is so enthusiastic and most times it feels like he just can’t get enough of you.

Sure, he could wait until he’s done with his work to go home to you, glance at his phone every so often to motivate himself to finish quicker, but where’s the fun in that? His tesoro’s ready for him and who is he to keep them waiting?

He’ll dump his work onto some poor unsuspecting sibling of sin or ghoul and be out the door in seconds.

While it's very effective, you should be prepared to follow through with this man

Alright. For my ace-spectrum lovelies and those who feel uncomfortable with the idea of sex, I love you and you are so valid. Your method of choice will be Italian Soap Operas.

Every night before bed you'll watch a few episodes of a soap opera together, following along and commenting on outrageous choices or acting and pointing this out to each other.

Tell him if he doesn't come home, you're gonna start it without him. If that doesn't seem to get his butt moving, send another text ten minutes later saying 'do you want spoilers' or 'i did not expect that to pan out this way' or something about the episode coming up and he will respond with keysmashes and be on the way in no time.

Copia

Rat photos. Send him cute photos of his rats and he will cave and want to go home.

He’s a hard worker so sometimes he pulls all nighters and then just stays in the office for the whole next day as well. To lure him back to make sure he’s taking care of himself and getting food and sleep, make pancakes.

Make some for you and him and then tiny pancakes for the rats and take a picture. Tell him they’re waiting on him to eat together! They’re starving! But they really wanna wait for their papa to have breakfast together. Copia is home in minutes.

You can also send vaguely threatening (but not really) texts with a blurry photo of his beloved rats (like this post that I love very much) with a text saying “come home or she/he gets it”. He’s not worried that you’ll actually do anything to his babies, but he’ll still want to come home faster because fuck that’s really cute and funny of you.

#the band ghost #terzo #copia #ghost band #secondo #ghost bc #primo #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #cardinal copia x reader #headcanons

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lemonnsss · 7 months

Text

Moral of the Story pt. 3

Warnings: cheating, illusions to sex, angst, not BETA'D we die like men.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 2.1k

“Oh, so soon?” he leaned in, obviously interested in my request, “And what might your boon be?”

“As you can probably guess, I need a job. I have an interview tomorrow morning for the role of your PA. If that doesn’t pan out -because of anyone's request outside of your own- I still want a good-paying job with decent benefits. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll cut it short, you’re hired.”

“Please, I don’t need your pity.”

"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't hire you out of pity. It's because of what you did just now. I gave you barely any details, and you came up with a sub-par solution." Satisfied with his answer, he reaches over and takes a sip of my coffee.

"Sub-par says I go out, find your bodyguard, and drag him back here." He visibly aspirates, coughing into a napkin for a minute or so. I got up, got a straw, and returned. By the time I sat down, he had regained most of his composure.

"You had a good plan that led to a good solution," gesturing to himself, "I'm a rich asshole. Are we happy?” A slight rasp remained in his voice.

“Sufficiently. I accept the role of your PA, Mr. Stark. When should I start?"

"After your interview with Ms. Potts. You did say that if anyone aside from me was against you as my PA, you'd be fine with it."

I leaned back, covering my eyes with my hand, ”Yeah, I did."

"Don't try denying it. JARVIS has been recording- I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I fully acknowledge and stand by my previous statement. And, did you just admit to illegally recording our conversation?” My other hand raised pointing at him, “If so, that would be quite unfortunate for you and Stark Industries.” I separated my fingers to see his shocked yet slightly confused expression.

"Well, shit.”

I lowered my hand to the arm of the chair, tilting my head slightly, “Did you think I wouldn’t own up to my word? Please, Tony -can I call you Tony? I’m going to call you Tony- I do have morals, they’re a bitch, but they’re there. When I make promises, I follow through with them.” I look down at my lap, my hands wrapped around my stomach, “I hate people who break their promises. They are the worst kind of people. All that does is hurt those around them, but they’re too self-centered to realize that until it’s too late- sometimes even then it doesn’t click.” I glance up, he’s leaning closer to me, a worried look plastered across his face.

I straighten, collect my things, and move to get up, “I suppose I’ll see you at my interview tomorrow, Mr. Stark.” I walk away and out of the café, hearing the bell ring as I walk out.

I fell face down into my bed, arms spread out. “I just met THE Anthony Edward Stark and acted like it was no big deal. What is wrong with me?” I grabbed a pillow, held it to my chest, curled up into the fetal position, and screamed. “How could I have acted like it was nothing? He’s an A-list celebrity and I just brushed it off!” I prop up onto my elbows, my hands extending forward.

I spent the afternoon and evening just watching TV and reading. While I didn’t typically read graphic books, Hemingway and Remarque’s book had been sitting in my collection untouched for far too long, and it wasn’t necessarily a horrible way to finish the day. About halfway through “All Quiet On The Western Front” I realized just how depressing this book was and how glad I hadn't gone over it with my high school classes. The case remained much the same for “A Farewell to Arms”.

My phone alarm went off, signaling it was time to start getting ready for bed. I got up to grab it, shutting off the tone. I stood up, went to the bathroom, completed my nightly routine, and set out my clothes for my interview, although it seemed I had been hired in all but formalities.

I woke up the next day with a slight ache in my bones but, nothing like the previous day. I got ready and headed out to the Stark Industries headquarters. When I arrived I wasn’t necessarily shocked. The lobby was sleek and modern, bustling with the morning rush. I walked up to the receptionist, an older woman, and told her that I was there for the interview for the role of Mr. Stark’s assistant. I confirmed she looked me up and down before saying my name aloud. She handed me a card, stating it was a single use and would be deactivated once I left the building before pointing me to the elevator, guarded by the head of security, Mr. Stark’s bodyguard, Happy Hogan.

I walked over he looked at me slightly puzzled as I walked up to the elevator, sliding the activated card. It took a moment or two before the door opened and I could not be happier. I walked in and the doors shut.

“Crap, I didn’t get the floor.” I placed my face in my hand, aggravated at my forgetfulness.

An electronic voice rang out, “I believe I can be of some assistance, Mx.”.

I screamed, “What the fuck?” I backed into a corner, grabbing the rails.

“Apologies, I seem to have startled you. I’m JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI.”

“O-okay? Can you send me up to Mrs. Potts’ floor?”

“Of course.”

The elevator ride passes quickly thanks to Stark’s AI. As the doors open JARVIS informs me that the door on the right leads to Ms. Potts’ office. I walk up to the door and knock, ”Come in!” A voice calls out. I open the door and introduce myself.

Ms. Potts was a taller woman with blonde hair. She ran around frantically, “I’m so sorry, an urgent business meeting just came up. Would it be okay to reschedule your interview?”

“Yes, yes, of course. These things happen, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?” I move close to her desk.

The look on her face shows she didn't expect my reaction. "Um, yes. In one of the piles over there. There should be twelve documents with the keywords Stark v. Hammer." She points over the corner where there are three medium-sized piles of papers

"Oh, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. My assistant has been on sick leave for two weeks and my office has become an absolute mess." I hear the clink of metal on the ground. She squats down, looking for whatever it was that had fallen.

"Really, it's no problem. I've worked in worse offices, this is nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The lawyer I worked for in college. He was a mess. He wouldn't let anyone move his things, so it just stayed that way until he needed a specific paper or file, and then he would send me looking. Apparently, he did that to all of his assistants after one of them, about five years before me, lost one of the major papers in a big case for the firm. He fired her immediately." I rifled through the paperwork, quickly finding a handful of the documents.

"That sounds horrible, although, from a business person's perspective I can somewhat understand."

"Yeah, it was crazy. I worked for him for four years and almost feel bad for leaving. He finally adjusted and was comfortable with me going through the records." I had found all but one of the papers at this point and had looked through all three piles with no luck.

"Ms. Potts?"

She stands up, bumping her head on the edge of her desk, "Yes?"

"Sorry, um, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She grasps the back of her head, wincing. She's clearly not.

"Are you sure? You hit your head pretty hard."

"Yes, really. What were you asking about?"

"Okay, are you sure all of the papers are over here? There's one missing. I've gone over the stacks at least three times."

"Yes, of course. They're all there, I could've sworn." She walks over, or at least attempts to as about halfway she grasps her head, a small groan accompanying the action. I run over, offering my arm. She takes my arm, and I lower her to the ground, a quiet 'thank you' thrown in the midst.

There was a small cut on the back of her head, a small amount of blood flowing out. I place my fingers on the cut, using my powers to heal it. A sharp pain found its way to the back of my head for a moment before it fades.

"Thank you. I think I just needed to sit down for a moment. But, yes, all of the papers should be over here. It's odd that there's one missing."

"Could it be in a different stack?"

"It shouldn't be, then again, I haven't exactly been keeping this place clean enough to say. Crap! The meeting's supposed to start in a few minutes."

"How far into the meeting do you need the papers, and how long do you expect this meeting will be?"

"Maybe two-thirds of the way through and half an hour at the shortest. Why?"

"I'm gonna buy you some time, obviously. I'll look through the rest of the papers to find the missing page. Once I find it I'll head over to your meeting room and deliver the papers as if you'd asked for them just before the meeting began. How does that sound?"

She walks up to me and hugs me. As she pulls away she says, "You are a lifesaver! Thank you." She grabs her papers and walks out of her office, presumably to the meeting room as I stand there stunned, unmoving as a stone.

When her trance breaks, I start moving around the room, quickly checking each pile for the missing paper. I tried to stay in the general area she originally pointed me to with no luck. I slowly moved towards the desk, it was the only place I hadn't checked yet.

I went through the different stacks before finding the paper in the third, guess it really was the charm. I collected all of the papers in a manilla folder, finishing it off with a paperclip -just as a precaution. As I went to grab the door handle JARVIS told me which meeting room they were on.

I walked out to the small foyer between the two offices and entered the elevator. JARVIS took me to the correct floor.

I walked up to the door of the meeting room Ms. Potts was in and knocked on the door before entering. I looked inside to see a variety of old, white businessmen and Ms. Potts in front of a projector explaining something I wasn't about to pretend I understood. She looked relieved.

I walked in just enough to where I could close the door, "Apologies, Ms. Potts, is this a bad time? I have the paperwork you requested."

"Oh no, not at all." She walked over to me, taking the folder from my hands. "Thank you." She whispered.

"It was no problem at all, Ma'am. Would you like me to continue working in your office, or go home for the day?"

"Please, wait in my office." She tipped her head slightly, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

I excused myself and headed back to Ms. Potts office. I waited for her in one of the armchairs at her desk. I checked my phone and realized I hadn't read the e-mail from Scott yet. I opened his message, the contents shocking me.

'Hi, I know it's been a while since we've talked, I mean really talked. I'm sorry, I chose a girl who saw me as the second choice over the person who's been my best friend practically since we met. I'm leaving the mansion too. Things have been crazy here. The professor is making Jean and Logan sub for all the classes you used to teach, and he'll be doing so for every teacher who leaves because of what happened. I'm planning on moving back to Anchorage. My parents left the house to Alex, but he gave everything to me in his will, making it mine. That house has to be 80 or so years old now, it's going to need a lot of repairs. I'll send you the address once it's all fixed up, maybe have some tea and catch up.

See you someday,

Scott.'

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nicohischierz · 3 months

Text

right where you left me: brandt clarke

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hisch you want to join the taglist let me know!!

warning: death, pregnancy

when someone mentioned the name brandt clarke, people immediately think of the unique laugh he held.

the laugh gone unheard ever since that night.

february 14th.

the day of love. the day that was made to be celebrated with the one you love.

all of that didn’t matter to brandt anymore as he had nothing to live for.

he didn’t have anyone to make dinner reservations with or to buy chocolates, that he’d end up eating, for.

the one thing that didn’t change was that on the 14th of february, brandt clarke would always buy a bouquet of flowers for the girl that held his heart.

you and brandt met through his teammate alex. the older boy being a good friend to your brother and him keeping an eye on you.

alex’s intention of introducing the two of you was purely to help each other settle into being away from family. he never expected that would blossom into a wholesome relationship.

everyone remembers the smile on your face when you and brandt made it official. the pair of you walked into a kings event hand in hand with smiles spreading from ear to ear.

it was the happiest your brothers had seen you in a long time.

brandt fit into your family quite easily.

with your brothers in the league alongside him, brandt found conversation easy to carry out and his open personality made it hard not to be his friend.

moments spent with you were the happiest brandt could ever be. those moments topped the ones he made on the ice.

“this is my boyfriend brandt, he plays for the la king,” you introduced your boyfriend to your parents and brothers.

jack, quinn and luke shook the boys hand and welcomed him into their group. jack and luke already knew his brother so it was only quinn that didn’t know the boy at all.

but alas, after spending the summer together and visiting each other during games, the hughes brothers formed a strong bond with brandt.

a bond that continued after everything.

the brothers weren’t the only ones that loved brandt. your parents did too.

ellen and jim hughes were ecstatic to meet the boy that captured their little girls heart.

they met brandt when he surprised you with a bouquet of flowers after coming back from a road trip. the kings had only landed an hour ago but the boy drove to a flower shop before going home just because he missed you.

that was how your relationship with brandt was.

it felt like a dream that neither of you wanted to wake up from.

but brandt’s dream turned into a nightmare in a matter of minutes.

february 14th was planned to a t.

brandt had ensured that you were pampered throughout the day before meeting for dinner at one of your favourite restaurants.

sometimes, he felt like he was still there sitting in the corner before his phone rang.

“hey babe, i’m just heading to the restaurant now. i cant wait to see you, i love you!”.

“hey babe, it’s raining real bad so i might be a little late but i’m almost here, i love you,”

when his phone ring with an unknown number he answered.

“hello?” he answered.

“hi is this mr brandt clarke?” the nurse asked.

brandt gulped.

“yeah this is he,”

“sir i’ve got one y/n hughes who was rushed to the emergency room and you were listed as her emergency contact. would you be able to make it to los angeles general hospital?”

brandt agreed and slowly got up from the table. before entering his car, he called your brothers.

“she’s in the hospital and i’m going to see her now,” he told them, not explaining anymore.

jack sent alex to follow brandt in order to know more about his sisters situation.

“i’m here for y/n hughes,” brandt went up to the front desk. alex had met up with him at the hospital and promised to be by his side.

“mr clarke, i’m so sorry but miss hughes didn’t make it,” the nurse expressed solemnly.

brandt felt the room spinning as he grabbed onto alex. the older boy almost buckled under the defensemen weight as well as the shock he experienced.

“she experienced some complications during labour …”

the nurse was cut off by alex. “she was pregnant?” he whispered.

the nurse gave a sad smile. “we believe she had a cryptic pregnancy as she had no idea either,”

“is the baby okay?” brandt asked.

the nurse nodded. “we’ve got another doctor doing some check ups but she seems to be doing well.”

alex and brandt let out a breathe of relief.

the two boys went back to their own apartments and awaited the arrival of your family.

ellen was quick to pull brandt into a hug as she sobbed for her daughter.

quinn gave the boy a sad smile. he knew of the velvet box that would’ve sat inside brandt’s jacket. the way it felt heavier after the news.

“she was pregnant.” brandt announced.

“it was a cryptic pregnancy so neither of us knew but she named the baby callie before she passed,”

ellen sobbed even harder and grabbed brandt’s hands. “whatever you want to do, we are here for you,” she reminded him.

callie was a carbon copy of her mother.

they had the same features and personality but most did say she got her laugh from her father.

on your birthday, brandt took callie to visit your grave with ellen and jim. callie was only a couple months old but she knew inside that this person was important to her and her family.

ellen took callie off brandt’s hands for a couple of minutes, in order to allow him some time to talk to you.

“callie looks just like you. i figured out why you named her that too, callie for california, the place we met.” he paused, looking up to the sky.

“sometimes i think i’m still at the restaurant waiting for you to walk through the doors. i remember the corner i was sat in and the feeling of dread when i got the call,” his voice wavered slightly towards the end.

“i just miss you so much and sometimes i’m stuck right where you left me,” he sobbed.

#brandt clarke imagine #hughes sister imagine #tw death #tw pregnancy #nicohischierz writes

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meieis · 4 months

Text

thinking about the past -Satoru Gojo

My note: Since I couldn't find anything to do, I wanted to watch the cartoons I loved watching as a child, as a result, while watching 'American Dragon: Jake Long', a scene I saw in the second episode gave me great inspiration.

Warning(?): None

Synopsis: In 2006, satoru constantly put himself in embarrassing situations around you. Satoru thinks to himself about one of these memories

He pouted as he sat bored.

You weren't around because you Have a mission and he had nothing to do today. Now that he think about it, he should congratulate himself on having managed to get you and his relationship this far, maybe... Should he get himself a cake as a reward? Remembering the past was something he often did, sometimes even crying in his sleep... This was a fact, except for his memories with you, there was not a single memory that did not upset him, except maybe a few exceptions. From the first time you met in 2005 until the day you married you. The only good times are... Now when he has plenty of time to think... Why shouldn't he?

2006.

Satoru, Shoko, Suguru and you. The full cast of second years, you and Shoko spent time more often because Satoru was stupid, he would bullshit and embarrass himself around you to get your attention. Everyone was used to ignoring this 'nonsense', except you. As the person who was the reason Satoru was embarrassing himself, you were sick of it, spending who knows how many hours of his day trying to get your attention, if failing that, buying gifts for you and already declaring you his girlfriend! You rejected him so many times and he didn't even care.

Suguru sighed while sitting with Satoru in the empty classroom, listening to Satoru talk about you, he begged God to save him. Just then, Suguru received a message, he took out the lighter from his pocket and handed it to Satoru. “Satoru, can you take the lighter to Shoko?” Satoru instantly agreed and quickly left the classroom they were in.

Within a few minutes he found Shoko and you, Shoko was listening to your conversation as she was waiting for a lighter to smoke. “He is so handsome!” he heard you say happily “I'd like to marry him, Shoko,” Shoko rolled her eyes at your words. “What do you see in him anyway?” These words are enough for Satoru! You are in love with him! This is a love confession! He always knew you were a shy tsundere!

he approached you with a proud smile "Shoko here's your lighter" he said proudly and gave the lighter to Shoko and quickly hugged your arm. “I feel the same way you do!” During this conversation Shoko quickly walked away from the you two. you looked at Satoru in surprise

“Wow Satoru.... I... I didn't expect you to feel this way....” you muttered in surprise. Satoru smiled and proudly placed his hand on his chest "You know me!" Satoru said proudly. “So… the chrollo from Hunter x Hunter is attractive?”

Satoru nodded, "definitely and— Wait.... WHAT?!" He shouted in surprise, causing the people on the street to look at Satoru with incomprehensible looks. "I was actually telling Shoko about the Chrollo, you know—" Satoru fell on both knees as if he was a defeated character in a game "My girlfriend is in love with an anime charac-" Slap "I'm not your girlfriend, you Santa!"

2018. present day

Okay, he looks like the Santa Claus who would agree but the slap was definitely an exaggeration, he couldn't help but pout when he heard the door open... "I'm home-" Before you could finish your sentence he hugged you tightly "Welcome!" "You love me, don't you?" he said happily.

The fear of abandonment that he felt deep down, he remembered this memory and asked you. You love him, don't you? Even if you rejected him in 2005 and 2006, you - "I do" You caressed Satoru's hair as he hunched over as he hugged you "I'll do it forever" Those words made him smile, he guess... He remember this memory in the future it will be nice to think...

extra

"So what made you ask this question?" you asked during your phone conversation with Satoru. Satoru laughed playfully.

"I don't know" he said, and continue "After all, you. the one. who. said. you. would. never. marry. me. in the past"

you sighed. "And you too... The freak who said you'd make me yours no matter what" Satoru chuckled at your life-weary tone, and he say :

"But, still... I win, not you"

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou satoru x you

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

Text

Mile High Club (Martin Ødegaard)

Masterlist

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: NSFW! written by my anonymous source and published here. Give them some love so they continue to feed us masterpieces!

Working for such a high profile football club as their photographer really came with so many perks, and you sometimes still didn’t understand what the club saw in you over the thousands that most likely applied as well. One of those perks was your secret boyfriend, a certain player who happened to captain the club, Martin Ødegaard.

You both knew that relationships between staff and players weren’t exactly encouraged, but neither of you could deny your attraction for one another.

Martin was one of the first players to really welcome you into the job, he took you on the tour of the grounds after suggesting it to your boss, and the whole time he spent trying to make you smile and laugh.

You both knew that after those few hours together that you wouldn’t be able to ignore the feelings that were stirring in your stomachs for each other.

A few months later and there you both were, boarding the team jet to fly to a European away leg, you decided to camp in the first aisle so you could get photos of the boys getting on. Martin would always make sure he smiled at you when he saw the camera was out, partly so the fans had nice photos, but also because whenever he saw you his whole face would light up. Both of you joked that it was unbelievable that no one had figured out the two of you were dating just from Martin’s face alone.

The tie itself was meant to be an easy win for the Gunners, but that never stopped Martin from worrying about the team. He’d try to relax on the plane there before he would have his laptop and notebook out, making some last minute notes about their opponents and how they could exploit their weaknesses.

‘Are you trying to figure out how you could score tomorrow captain?’

Martin would look at his phone and you’d hear his quiet laugh which you would love so much, looking over at you and smiling.

‘How else am I meant to get the club photographer’s attention?’

Now it was your turn to quietly laugh. Martin loved hearing the sound of your laugh, he would always say it was the sound he wanted to hear every time he woke up and every time he fell asleep.

‘That’s a fair point Mr Ødegaard! How about this for motivation? You score tomorrow and after the game I’ll let you do whatever you wish!’

You hadn’t meant that in any suggestive way, but Martin’s mind would start racing with thoughts, one which, as captain, he shouldn’t be thinking about but he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He had heard from numerous teammates of their experiences having sex on planes, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about doing that with you, but one step further. He knew that the jet allowed for a touch more secrecy in the seats if a player chose to do so, and he had thought a few times about taking you on the club’s plane and watching you struggle to keep quiet as he filled you up.

He definitely had his motivation to score.

When the plane had landed and the bus had taken you to the hotel that everyone was staying at, you would be forced to go your separate ways for the night, but that wouldn’t stop Martin from facetiming you.

Martin when he was at his most relaxed was probably your favourite sight, the messy hair, the hoodie that swallowed him up, and the smile on his face whilst he would be staring at you on the phone, although he would always claim he just ‘zoned out’. You knew he was staring, and you were as well.

It had been a couple of months, and that ‘honeymoon’ phase everyone talks about still hadn’t passed, both of you dying to see each other whenever you could and clinging onto each other when you knew you had to leave. You would always FaceTime each other when you were going to sleep, but you could tell Martin was thinking about something tonight, and you just assumed he was stressing about the game tomorrow. He usually was. However, this time he was knee deep in the thought of you and him on the jet, so much so that he would end the facetime call a little early to ‘get some rest’ when in reality he would have to relieve himself before he went to bed.

That morning Martin adhered to his strict game day routine, one he never strayed from otherwise it would be ‘bad luck’ and you laughed until one day he accidentally strayed from it, eating something different from breakfast and then when it came to the game he kept hitting the woodwork and Arsenal went on to lose one nil. After that you took his routine completely seriously.

After the team walk around the city was complete, you would head back to the hotel and you would start to get ready to do your job. Making sure you had all of the right equipment and that it was all packed safely, before heading down to the reception to meet up with everyone and get on the bus.

Everyone was fully focused on the game, Martin taking it upon himself to make sure everyone felt alright before the warm up, and checking in with everyone during it as well. You would situate yourself on the sidelines where the Arsenal boys were warming up and whilst you looked at the photos you were taking you could notice this fire in Martin’s eyes, a fire in which you found really attractive.

One of your favourite things during a game was the lineup the teams did before the game, where Martin was looking all serious and fully into the matchday mode, it just made your stomach flip in all of the right ways. You had always told him that the more serious side was a turn on, he always joked that you just liked him being dominant but you could never deny that. Martin Ødegaard, this soft and sweet, innocent looking man, was actually the most dominant man that you had ever met, and you were so glad for that. You always said it was the captain's side of him that came out, he would always joke about stealing the armband and bringing it home since that was clearly something you wanted from him; and of course it was but you could never bring yourself to say that.

The referee’s whistle jolted you out of your thoughts and you watched the game kick off and you were making sure you got every action shot that the club would need for their posts during the match. The first half saw the Gunners shooting away from the side that you were sitting at and for you that meant a pretty boring first half where they scored two goals, Martin assisting for one of them, and yet all you managed to get were some far away shots that really did nothing, even with the lens that you had on the camera.

The second half being the half where the action stepped up for you and you knew that Martin was still on the mission that you sent him, the fire still alight in his eyes and you knew he was never one to back down from a challenge, he would always arise to the occasion. The boys continued to score and to rip into the team they were facing but yet Martin still hadn’t had the ball in the back of the net and it may have taken a while but five minutes before the end of the match, Martin would finally get that long awaited goal and his first thought?

I get to have sex on the team jet tonight.

That wasn’t all, but Martin knew how to tease you, and now that he knew he was getting his way with you, he wanted to make sure you were lusting over him, that you wanted him so badly you were ready to beg for him in front of everyone. So for his celebration he would run immediately over to your direction, sticking his tongue out for the whole stadium to see and he would do a little dance, just to drive you even crazier.

Oh boy did it work. You tried so hard to remain professional, getting the best photos of the Norwegian, meanwhile on the inside you were screaming for this man in the most feral way you had ever screamed for him.

The only thing coming to your mind was a string of curses about how much you wanted him, and how much you wanted him now, almost wanting to take him then and there on the pitch and show everyone just how lucky you were.

You knew you couldn’t so all you could do was stare and try acting professional before you could get down the tunnel, board the bus and get to the airport, where at least then you could text Martin all of the ungodly and downright sinful thoughts you were having. At least then you could be driving him crazy too.

Martin would come onto the bus, look at you for the briefest of seconds, you had almost missed it, but you saw the little smirk on his face, a smirk that usually meant trouble, and one you only saw and it meant you were in for a long night. But you didn’t have all night. You would just narrow your eyes ever-so-slightly at him, before turning back to your phone and texting him.

‘What are you up to? You’ve got that grin on your face….’

You would casually try and turn to see his reaction, trying to gauge what the game that he was playing with you actually was, except he was all the way at the back of the bus and that’s when you knew he was playing some kind of long game with you, teasing you until you were ready to burst, and embarrassingly, you were almost there. What made it worse was when you had no response to that text and so you were left guessing in your seat as to what this man had up his sleeves.

You had tried to get somewhat closer to him on the walk through the airport, to absolutely no avail. He was completely keeping the space from you on purpose and it was driving you insane, and all you could do at this point was hope that he planned on doing something when you drove back to his place, after the team landed back in London.

It seemed like an eternity before the team even boarded the plane but eventually you were all boarding and you got yourself comfortable for the next few hours, as comfortable as you could be with the thoughts swirling that were in your head.

It didn’t feel like that long after the plane had took off, you felt the vibration from your phone in your tracksuit pocket, and you eagerly checked in, just praying Martin took a touch of mercy on you and at least gave you an idea of what he wanted to do with you.

‘Once things settle down a little then you’ll know, all in good time prinsesse ;)’

‘Settle down a little? What is this man planning?’ is all you could think.

Your head couldn’t even go to the place that he was going to go with you, it was risky, and Martin knew that, but the thrill of it is what makes it so attractive for him. He would wait around a half hour, making sure some people were falling asleep, or engrossed in whatever they were doing so that they wouldn’t notice him getting up to head to the bathroom on the plane.

’Come to the bathroom prinsesse, your captain is waiting, and he wants his reward for his goal today’

‘The bathroom? What? Oh.. oh!’

It took everything in you after your internal debate, to not jump up and run to the bathroom. Instead you gave it a minute, casually got up and made sure you made eye contact with no one that could even acknowledge where you were going.

You got to the bathroom and quietly knocked, the secret knock that you had come up with when you both started dating so when he came into your office you would always know it was him, just in case you were with another player or a colleague at the club.

He would let you in, and it would almost be instantaneous, the way he would sweep you into his arms, lock the door, push you up against that door and kiss you, making sure you couldn’t say a word in this whole thing.

He craved that control in this scenario, this is what he wanted and he was going to make sure it was everything that he had dreamed of.

Maybe it’s the way he craved for you to look so helpless in front of him, but he always loved the way you would look for him and almost tried to plead with him without saying anything. It would almost make him laugh every time, except this time it does. The look comes after you pull away and try to speak but immediately he stops that from happening, covering your mouth with his right hand whilst his left would be running down the side of your body.

“Nuh-uh prinsesse… I distinctly remember you telling me I could do whatever I wanted to do if I scored and uh- I think you’ll find your captain scored… and I didn’t even get a congratulations. Can you imagine that huh? You’re lucky we’re not at home- otherwise I would’ve gone a lot harder on you- but for now… just let me have my reward.”

You moaned against his hand whilst he would bend you over the bathroom sink, making sure you were looking at him in the mirror, otherwise he would stop completely. Even if he knew he didn’t have the time to stop and punish or tease you, he still would. He wanted you to remember who was in control, who was always in control.

He would remove his hand from your mouth uttering a simple ‘behave’ to you as he yanked your tracksuit bottoms down, revealing the red lace panties that you were wearing underneath and you would just hear the groan come from his mouth and a deep ‘faen prinsesse’ escape from his lips.

He would never ruin the sets you bought for him, but in this situation he would rip that lace material off of you and would keep that in his pocket for later, fully intending on sending you back to your seat with his load dripping out of you. He could feel himself getting painfully hard at that thought.

It was embarrassing how fucked out you were already and he had barely done anything to you, but this was more dominant than you ever realised Martin was, okay yes did he like to try new things in the bedroom, but public was a domain you never thought he would try, let alone public and in the work environment. The thrill was making you soaked and he would reach down and feel just how excited you were.

“Someone’s excited, maybe even more excited than me. Of course you are, deep down you like being a little slut for me, letting me fuck you in the team’s jet, in the bathroom- faen you’re such a pretty slut for your captain.”

You had to cover your own mouth to soften the moan that came out of your mouth and you would just look up at him in the mirror, your eyes soft and the smallest of pouts coming out.

“Marrrrrr- please! Don’t tease me any longer- I can’t take it. Just please fuck me already captain!”

You would just see that grin on Martin’s face widen, even more that it already was and it made your eyes roll back, something which was made worse when he thrust himself inside of you.

Martin didn’t know how you did it but he swears each time he fucks you, you magically get tighter and it was driving him crazy. He knew he couldn’t waste any time, begrudgingly having to make sure you both reached your highs in quick times but that was part of the fun. He loved seeing how fucked out you got when he just kept going, each thrust getting harder and faster, each thrust hitting that same spot over and over, Martin swears the look on your face will be etched in his mind forever. He gathers your hair into a low ponytail, using it was leverage to fuck you even deeper, and he also knew you loved it when he pulled your hair.

“Such a pretty little slut for your captain- you look so pretty taking every inch of me, I think I can see your stomach bulging- faen prinsesse! I’m almost shocked you’re not whining about how you can’t take it”

His spare hand would go to your stomach and he would feel himself fucking you and it would make his eyes roll back. You were close to telling him that it was all too much and you weren’t sure if you could take it, but you kind of enjoyed it. The way that it was all just a little too much was just getting you closer and closer and all you needed to do was just let Martin have his way with you, like he always did.

You’re just being honest when you admit to yourself that you’re so fucked out that was Martin was uttering wasn’t even registering with you anymore, all you could focus on was his throbbing length inside of you and you knew he was just as close as you were.

Your muffled moans were spurring him on and he would barely give you any warning as he was about to finish, as he did so inside of you, he would have to bring a hand to his own mouth to make sure he didn’t get too loud so anyone could hear, and that was your last straw and your climax came right after.

Martin would lean over you, resting his head into your neck, just letting every drop spill it’s way inside of you, and when your breathing steadied out is when he would carefully pull himself out, bring up your tracksuit bottoms and utter into your ear,

“Try not to make a mess of the seat prinsesse, otherwise everyone will know what you’ve been up to.”

He would press a loving kiss to the top of your head, pulling up his own bottoms and boxers before reaching for the lock of the door and unlocking it, just grinning as he looks at you in the mirror, so completely out of it that he couldn’t wait to watch you walk back to your seat in an absolute daze. He would quietly chuckle to himself before saying ‘welcome to the mile high club prinsesse’ and walking, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your own demise and get through the rest of this flight without reliving that whole time over and over again.

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fantasy #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard smut #arsenal fc #footballer imagine #footballer fluff #footballer fanfiction #footballer fic #alt timeline lover

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mikasa-imadebiscults · 3 months

Text

The Show’s Over..

(A/N- IT’S MY ULTIMATE REVEAL @oneginn and @isas-bathbombs, I AM THE ⚔️ ANON. For real though, I had fun sending those asks to y’all)

RL! Cassandra Dimitrescu x FEM! Reader

(Warning: Angst, swearing, implied NSFW but no details, betrayal, fighting, blood, and death)

Now playing: “Love is Gone” by SLANDER

Cassandra Dimitrescu, the middle sibling of the three sisters, the famous resident playgirl of Miranda’s All Girls University. Never thought she would find true love, let alone someone actually loving her for who she is. She accepted the fact that no one could love her for her, but that all changed when you came along.

You were special, you never went after her fame or wealth. You loved her, or at least that’s what Cassandra always thought. The thing is..before you started dating her she slept with your best friend and played her. Leaving your dear best friend heartbroken.

You still remember that night. The night where your best friend called you frantically over the phone sobbing, explaining everything. The sound of the sorrowful voice on the other line infuriated you. You couldn’t even fathom how anyone could hurt someone like that, and just for the hell of it?

That same exact night, you silently decided that you will get vengeance for your best friend’s shattered heart. As many different ideas of sweet revenge went through your mind, you came up with your plan. You were going to get close to Cassandra and get into a relationship with her, then when she’s in her most vulnerable moment rip the “sweet” relationship away from her.

....

Today marks the five month anniversary of you and Cassandra’s relationship and y’all spent the day together, of course the day ended with you two having sex and afterwards sleeping in each other’s arms. Though usually Cassandra doesn’t sleep because of her reoccurring nightmares, so she just watches you sleep while smiling to herself thinking of how lucky she is.

She was so comfortable though, even more comfortable than usual. So consequently sleep consumed her, it only took a couple minutes until the dreadful nightmares appeared again.

Ever since she started dating you the nightmares have been about the same topics; you using her for money and fame or you suddenly abandoning her. Cassandra never told you what those reoccurring nightmares were about, her pride is too strong. So usually she just suffered in silence, dealing with the sadness and insecurities alone.

But things were different this time. The current nightmare that consumed her was by far the worst she’s ever experienced. Her eyes shot open, she wanted to scream but couldn’t; the anxiety gripping at her throat and tensing up her muscles. Cassandra closed her eyes and tried to do some breathing techniques to relax herself, being mindful to not wake you up.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw a figure sitting on the edge of the bed. It was you. Cassandra’s heart races a tad bit more due to the startled feeling, which didn’t last for more than a few seconds. She sits up and goes next to you, grabbing your hand tightly.

“Nightmare?” You guessed, fighting a smile from forming and messing up your concerned facade.

“Yeah.” Cassandra responded, putting her head on your shoulder.

“I would ask if you’d like to talk about it but-”

“I do. I wanna talk about it, I can’t hold this in anymore.” She suddenly confessed, a few small tears forming in her eyes as she felt the weight of her held in emotions weighing down on her.

“Oh- that’s surprising, well, go ahead I’m all ears.” You said, wrapping your arm around her.

Cassandra breathes in for a moment, she hesitates to tell you but after feeling your hand squeeze her arm reassuringly that was enough for her to talk. “Y’know before I met you, everyone that I slept with wanted me for only my looks, fame, money, you name it. Like being rich and famous is cool and all but it’s so damn exhausting sometimes.” Cassandra voice wavered and cracked, a few tears falling from her eyes.

“Oh..” is all you can manage to say. Damn you didn’t expect to feel sorry for her. Did your best friend really use her? No it can’t be- was your caring best friend really like that? Suddenly the original intention of vengeance disappeared and conflicting feelings overwhelmed your brain.

A part of you felt bad for your best friend getting their heart broke..but did you really know them? The sudden disappearance of vengeance felt weird and confusing since you were so accustomed to the feeling by now.

Your complex thoughts were interrupted by a hand on your chest. “Let’s go on a date, it’s our five month anniversary after all.” Cassandra said as if nothing ever happened.

You blink twice as you looked at her in shocked, “Uhh- it’s technically the next day..it’s midnight.”

“And? I can still take you on dates whenever I want.” Cassandra declared, sitting up straight before getting up from the soft sheets of the bed. “So what do you say my dear?”

You chuckle lightly at Cassandra’s dramatic mannerisms, watching as she already started getting ready, “Sure since you already decided for me.”

“Oh you know you can’t say no to me.”

....

You arrived at the same coffee shop that you two usually go to. Not that you minded, you really don’t need anymore chaos to flood your thoughts. When you walked in Elena was there at the counter, looking at the both of you with her usual blank expression.

Cassandra waves at her before turning to you, “Go find us a seat pretty girl, I’ll order for us. You want your usual right?”

“Yeah the usual, I’ll be over there.” You pointed to the corner of the shop before walking there to have a seat. Looking around you noticed that there was no customers besides y’all, understandable considering how late it was. It was peaceful.

You see Cassandra from afar, talking and paying for the order before walking off to the restroom. You played with the sleeve of your (Cassandra’s) sweater while you waited. Just then you hear the sound of the door bell jingle, quietly signifying that someone has entered the shop. Looking up in curiosity you saw the one person that you didn’t want to see, at least not until you got your emotions all sorted out.

Unfortunately they saw you and walked over smiling, looking to start an unwanted conversation “Hey I didn’t expect you to be here at this hour, what’s up?”

“Uhh I wasn’t able to sleep so-” you lied, they nodded their head in acknowledgment before examining you for a second and their expression changed.

“Wh- why do you have Cassandra’s sweater on?”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. A ironically loud silence. Clearing your throat, trying to think of some excuse. Two hands suddenly grabbed your shirt and yanked you outta your seat, now standing toe to toe against your best friend. They look at you with eyes filled with betrayal and rage.

“I see now, so this is the real you? A two-bit slut that would fuck anyone if given the opportunity.” They said with hostility in their voice.

At this point you had no choice but to tell the truth about the whole vengeance plan. As you open your mouth to speak you gasp at the sudden pain right on your lower stomach. The blood splattered on the floor, luckily the wound wasn’t deep enough to hit your organs but it sure as hell did some damage to your stomach fat protecting that vital organ.

Adrenaline course through your veins causing the pain to become no more, but you just stood in place due to the amount of shock you’re enduring. You step back just to fall and land on your back to the advantage of your now ex best friend.

Is this your demise? Is this really how you go out?

They get on top of you, holding the small metal knife to your throat so closely that you can feel the edge of the blade and the warmth of your blood on it.

“Wait..let me explain” You breathed out before continuing, “I originally dated Cass to break her heart and get vengeance for you but..she got me actually falling in love. I’m sorry my friend that I was selfish. I guess Karma’s a bitch huh.”

“Yeah..she’s a bitch.” They said before fatally stabbing you in the throat, the blade all the way inside.

Bittersweet memories of your relationship with Cassandra flooded your mind, you were suddenly so aware of your heart racing a tiny bit whenever you were around her, the subtle actions you did without even noticing. Cassandra really had you wrapped around her finger without you even realizing it. Wow, after everything how could you betray your own best friend like this? Maybe you were the bad guy after all.

With ears ringing and your vision slowly beginning to fade into darkness, you see Cassandra standing over near the bloody scene with a sinister smile on her face, “The shows over, my love~”

Masterlist

#originally Cassandra’s heart was supposed to get broken and reader gets the vengeance for bestie #butttttttttttt #my brain said TRIPLE BETRAYAL #how’d y’all like the ending??#what do you think REALLY happened??#oh well who knows #Elena is like ‘‘I don’t get paid enough for this-’’#resident lover #resident lover fanfiction #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil angst #resident lover cassandra #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra x reader #cassandra x mc

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halfdeadsage · 7 months

Text

you've become my ceiling -- sam winchester x reader

hi my angels long time no see ! i am so sorry for not posting for a while since i released "wildflower" !! college has been insane and it's been vv overwhelming :( i had nothing in me because i've been studying 24/7 ,, until now !

i hope you enjoy ! make sure to read the trigger / content warnings , and send requests to my inbox ! or anything to my inbox ! i will always read and respond (unless i am made uncomfortable) <3

stay safe, take care , and be kind to each other !!!

masterlist

WARNINGS: break ups (sorta ?) , minor descriptions + mentions of suffocation (if you blink you'll probably miss it) , abandonment , loss of love , unrequited love but not really (???) , sad sam (again </3)

word count: 1.3k

and major angst :)

---------------------------------------

love was difficult. it was consuming. beautiful. costly. the best feeling in the world, and the worst one. it was all of these things at the same time.

sometimes it was the most freeing thing in the world. other times it was suffocating. sometimes it could be a good suffocating. the love so overwhelming that she burst with joy at the feeling.

other times it made her want to cry everything out. it made her want to collapse on the floor, heart and lungs heavy. it made her dread the silence during fights, or the sleepless nights waiting for a phone call back. it made her dread the days spent waiting for him to come home. the tears welling up in her eyes when she could only imagine the worst as minutes became hours, which would become days and eventually weeks. it was dreadful.

but the good parts made up for it. the nights spent curled up in each others’ arms. hearing each others’ shallow breaths as they slept. the warmth of being near one another. the way the light shone in a different way, because things were good. things were calm. he was home and so was she. the smiles rarely ever left either of their faces. being in close proximity was all they needed. they’d talk, but the silence was just as peaceful. it wasn’t deafening or painful. it didn’t make her heart wrench. both of them were safe and in love and happy.

that’s not the way it was now. right now the silence was heavy. so was her heart. her lungs felt like they were constricting. like there wasn’t enough air left for her to breathe. it felt like their love was dying out. she didn’t want it to. she was grabbing at it, pulling it back towards her, like a child trying to save their most prized possesion that’s about to be thrown out. she tried to save it. so, so hard. she would spend nights awake, thinking how to fix things. how to make it better, for both of them. how to make sure they were both safe and in love and happy again.

but he wasn’t making that effort. he had shut down. she didn’t know what it was. he came home one day after weeks of no contact on a long hunt, and since then it’s been like this. she had to tiptoe around him on eggshells. the feeling of acid burning her throat never left. she tried to get him to talk. to say something. to open up to her, so she could help him. but he had snapped, and she decided it wasn’t worth pushing.

he would open up in time, right? things would get fixed in time and it would be all okay again. but it didn’t happen. the time didn’t come. and yet again, hours would become days, which would be come weeks and slowly those weeks would become months. except this time he wasn’t away. he was home. he was with her.

i love you, she thought.

i love you with all my heart and soul. i love you unconditionally. i love you even through the heaviness in my heart and the tears that stain my cheeks every day.

but it’s just not enough, she realized. her sided love wasn’t enough.

so she packed a bag. just one. only what she needed. not everything. she left the rest. she would be coming back. she knew she would. a love like this doesn’t just end. there’s bumps in the road. there always are. but this bump needed a little extra time and care. and that had to come in the form of being away. she needed to be able to breathe.

and with that one bag in hand, she left the room she shared with him. with her sam. the love of her life. the man who now sat at the kitchen table, absolutely unrecognizable. she watched him from afar. sitting there, motionless. a bottle of beer stood in front of him.

she placed her bag down where she was, positioning it so he wouldn’t see. and she entered the kitchen.

one last time, she thought to herself. she wouldn’t be saying goodbye. that’s not what this was. she was going to be back. but she couldn’t leave without seeing him one more time. giving him one last kiss before she was gone.

“sam,” she croaked out. her voice was barely louder than a whisper. he didn’t respond.

“sam,” she said once again, louder this time. it caught his attention. he looked up at her.

“i love you,” she said to him. her eyes were glossy. she was breathing as evenly as she could, her lungs constricting as her heart beat so fast that she practically felt it in her throat.

“mhm,” was his only response. she took that as her sign. her final push. to do this. to take some time away from him, let him figure things out. he wasn’t going to do that with her around. these past few months have proven that. she bent down and placed a kiss to his forehead.

i’m sorry, she thought to herself.

and so she took one last look at him. she turned towards the door. and she walked out. moving her legs was a chore. it was difficult and every bone in her body screamed at her to turn back around. to get down on the floor, to her knees, and beg him to talk to her, to tell her what was wrong. but it wouldn’t work.

so against every instinct in her body, against every thought in her head but one, she grabbed the bag she had hidden behind the wall outside the kitchen, and left.

sam heard the door close. he didn’t think much of it. a day later, when the house was quieter than he was used to, he glazed over the thought that she wasn’t back yet. but that one day had yet again become days, which had eventually become a week. he called her. he rung her phone non-stop. he left message after message. he had sat in that same spot in the kitchen, phone in hand, waiting for her to pick the phone back up. but she hadn’t.

he had finally woken up from his daze. he finally realized that he had lost her. it took her leaving for him to realize that things weren’t okay. that he wasn’t okay. none of it was.

and so one lonely night in november. when sam was laying in her room, curled up in a ball on her bed, her scent having nearly faded completely, he saw the leather poking out from inside her closet. and he got up. pulled out what it was that caught his eye.

her journal. the one thing she refused to go anywhere without, she had left. so he opened it. and he read, and read, and read. he couldn’t stop reading. and he hated himself more and more with each entry.

he watched their love crumple in front of his eyes, the memories burnt into the pages. but their love wasn’t enough for it to stay.

it’s my fault, he’d repeat in his head. over and over and over again. non-stop, like a mantra. and when he got to the last page, he had felt his heart shatter. he had become physically ill at what he read.

you’ve become my ceiling, the page read.

i can’t keep loving you when you don’t love me, it finished.

and just like that, sam winchester had broken himself more than he had already been broken. but he would wait. he’d wait for her to return. he’d look for her. he’d hope that she’d come back. and in the meantime he’d work on himself. fix himself. he’d pull himself out of the rutt he was in, so that when she came back, he could give her all the love in the world again. so she could look at him with all the light in the world once more.

he would become her the sun again and brighten her world, rather than darkening it by being just her ceiling.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester #spn #sam winchester fic #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #romantic relationships #angst #so much angst #as usual #im a sucker for angst ok #sam x you #sagebutterfly

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