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#all of this puts me in a terrible mood where all i want to do is relax in a calming and quiet atmosphere
wittlesissyb4by · 1 day
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Chapter 1
Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!
I overslept.
I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic. 
Or…I could just call in sick. 
Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me. 
My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement. 
“HR, this is Kelly.”
“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”
“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.
“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”
Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”
“A doctor’s note?”
“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”
America.
“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem. 
Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally. 
But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile. 
After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.
I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.
Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.
I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit. 
Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!
I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.
The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.
Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.
I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute. 
I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…
After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly. 
Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.  
I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.
I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though. 
I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…
Creeeeakkk
I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.
Nothing.
No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…
I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!
When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look. 
“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”
I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.
I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately. 
“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”
“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.
I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”
“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”
I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…
I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–
Thonk!
Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this?? 
I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.
It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.
Phew…close one. 
My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.
Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!
Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade.  I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?
I put that thought out of my mind. 
Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.
It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob. 
I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick. 
“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.
Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.
“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”
I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.
“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”
I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!
“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”
“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!” 
“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”
I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I. 
“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”
I do.
“His little mouth whore?”
Yessss.
“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”
Whatever you sayy.
“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”
The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.
“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”
Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…
I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.
No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined. 
I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.
I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.  
Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.
I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut. 
Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.
At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door. 
Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so. 
I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way. 
It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.
“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”
The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.
“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”
“Suck your thumb, loser!!”
I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.
“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”
“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”
I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.
“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.
I can see my penis poking through the pampers. 
“And he LIKED it!”
“Show us how much you like it, loser!”
“Sit in your stinky seat!!”
I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.
“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”
I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.
“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”
I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making. 
“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”
Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.
“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!” 
I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.
The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!
It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…
Beep!
Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.
I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.
Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.
Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came. 
Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.
I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.
Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.
This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.
I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.
Someone was at the front door. 
Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…
Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5. 
I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.
I shut my door, right?
Yes. I did. I made sure of it.
But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?
In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.
“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.
Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.
“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.
He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”
“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.
“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much. 
“Alright then, see ya later.”
“Later.”
He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle. 
But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.
…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?
To Be Continued
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This is going to be a very rambling and venty post cause im tired and annoyed and honestly am just using this to vent my anger/hurt. there is going to be stuff that can maybe be seen as anti tommy/bucktommy (please dont tell me a ship name to put i dont care about if they do have an agreed upon ship name right now) so if you dont want that please just move on. i dont want to fight i just want to yell into the void on a stupid throw away account so i dont bring my negativity stew and come out on my main blog where i just want to enjoy my stuff and just keep happy energy. I dont normally post and try and just find someone who explains it better because im not great and getting what im saying across or understood the way i want, so please bear with me. With that said i will move on to what i want to say
Okay so i have been watching 9-1-1 for years and i love and adore it. Its characters and dynamics and i have always loved found family. Now i will admit that i started watching it thinking that Buck and Eddie were a couple and had a son so i was kinda watching for it. Do i think if i didn't start watching thinking that i would ship them still yes 100%. I have always loved their relationship and i have loved watching both Buck and Eddie grow and start to be happy while also having each others back even at the worst times. Sometimes if i think to hard about Eddie and start crying cause I'm very normal about this show and it characters. Now Eddie is my favorite character in the show and at least in my top five overall favorite characters. I love him and his development and i adore seeing how much he does to just do right by Chris even when he messes up you can tell how much he adores that boy and how badly he wants to give Chris the best life possible. I could write essays about Eddie Diaz trying to explain how much i love him and why and i think words would run out before i could finish making people understand. Buddie is my favorite ship (sometimes second depending on my mood. i would say sorry but Henren and Madney will always be amazing ships and sometimes i just cant stop think about them)(Sorry Bathena i love you too i swear i just cant decide if i wanna kiss athena or be adopted by bobby and athena:( Its confusing) and has been for quite awhile and is one of my overall favorites and its one of my comfort ships.
With that context when bi Buck happened i was so insanely happy and i wouldnt shut up about it. it made me sick. i was so happy for Buck and while i think a part of me will always be a little sad Eddie wasnt his first kiss with a guy i dont think either of them are ready for that. i also understand that it wouldnt make sense for how the story is going right now. Now i have nothing against bucktommy in the show. I have watched the kiss scene and sobbed to much to pretend like i hate them or even dislike them. However I genuinely dont care about Tommy. Hes kinda bland and i forget about him half the time and before they brought him back i completely forgot his name. in my mind he was the one that wasnt as much of an asshole to chim and hen as the other two assholes which wasnt saying a lot. Now I dont dislike tommy nor am i going to act like hes irredeemable because neither Chim nor Hen seem to think hes still that guy and while they dont seem super close they seem to get along so clearly, he's not like that anymore. I have nothing that makes me dislike him nor do I like him. He's just there. He's just the guy buck kissed. Thats all he means to me. I would give up his screen time for Ravi or May or Karen in a heartbeat. because i love them cause they mean something to me. I don't think i thought about the fact that people might actually like him especially not more than EDDIE.
This is where the context matters cause i am to my core a one ship per person girly. I might see a ship and people who like it and even think thats not a terrible ship but i will still only look at content for my ship for that person (ie. i ship Destiel (dont say anything bad about them ill cry<3) but i can see the way someone would also ship Dean and Benny or crowley or Cas and Crowley or Mick but i will ignore the ship and move on and look at more Dean and Cas). normally i will just ignore the ship and move on because im not who its for. If it gets annoying in my tag or anything like that ill block it or whoever is annoying me cause its not a them problem that i dont want to see it. When i start to have a problem is when multiple people arent tagging right for whatever reason or people who are being rude about the ship i like because of their ship. When I started seeing Bucktommy stuff more and more in the 9-1-1 tag i went to the buddie tag cause i dont want to see them. my problem is that when im reading on AO3 and click on a fic tagged Buddie where bucktommy get married. it was literally just hurting Eddie. There was stuff before like id be scrolling though the buddie tag here and see someone saying that Tommy is a better character then Eddie and saying that they hope bucktommy is endgame. Whatever block and move on. Just like always but then people who have shipped buddie for years who ive seen talk about them are suddenly saying that they like bucktommy better. People who started watching because of bucktommy saying they dont like Eddie. People are going to have different opinions but it still bugged me. and then i read that and i was just hurt because it was tagged happy ending and i cannot fathom ever thinking Eddie hurting and pining is a happy ending. So i started to get more annoyed and i hate when that happens especially with a show i love and a character i dont dislike so i tried to just move on but more and more people are taking about it then i saw someone saying that they wanted eddie to die so buck and tommy can have Chris.
I just hate that so many people are jumping on the bucktommy train and saying that they like it better than buddie something that is so good and sweet or saying that they like Tommy more than Eddie. I just dont get it cause Tommy is boring. like yeah we now some about him and he flies a helicopter but hes forgettable he could be a completely different person and next to nothing would have to change. We have seen Eddie at his worst and claw his way back up and hes finally letting himself be open and honest and soft. Eddie couldnt be replaced. Now im not saying Tommy can't be an interesting character but as he is right now?? He just isnt. Hes just as bland as every women (minus Taylor and Shannon) Buck and Eddie have dated and been hated on for no reason!!! Like i get that Tommy is a guy and we got canon Bi Buck and people are happy but those same people turn around and shit on Marisol from what ive seen(I could be wrong cause again i have done my best to avoid). Buddie fans arent safe from that either, cause we all know that Buddie fans do that but so many of those people who hated on them and said they didnt want them with anyone else suddenly decided that they were okay if Buck ended up with any guy. I dont know its just weird and i hate how many people are acting like Eddie isnt always going to be better then Tommy. Part of me wanted Tommy to stick around and help Buck and Eddie figure it all out but now?? i honestly just cant wait for him to be gone cause I want to have fun and read fics for my comfort ship and just chill where i can see all of my ships in the show without buck and tommy being everywhere or people saying crap about Eddie.
I have more to say but most of its about how gratifying waiting and seeing where this whole thing goes(Buddie season 8 PLEASE!!) and this is already why to long and i think im just going in circles and none of this makes sense so ima shut up for now and hopefully this will help it not fester and drive me insane and become a tommy hater
Edit: but i also hate that Tommy calls Buck Evan so he already had some stuff against him rip
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onboardsorasora · 2 days
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Something something Lewis and Daniel have been on and off fuck buddies. They don't talk about feelings but it's clear to anyone with eyes that some exist.
Daniel is a little more considerate to Lewis and his moods than he is with other people. Lewis always seems Daniel out first when he has good news or updates. As far as everyone is concerned- they're dating.
Anyway Lewis has been feeling like maybe he should say something, maybe make things a little more serious. Because he thinks maybe it's time to stop lying to himself.
But Daniel feels something serious happening, felt the shift. Has been seeing Lewis staring at him with weight in his eyes. Been noticing that Lewis has been spending a lot of time talking to other people.
He doesn't know what meaning is in the depths of Lewis' chocolate stare but Daniel is sure it can't be anything good. Lewis for sure is about to end things- because why wouldn't he? What reason does he have to keep this up, keep their whatever this is going? All Daniel does is have sex with him, make sure he has the brand of oat milk he likes in his fridge and that Roscoe's extra bed and bowls are accessible when they stay over.
So when Lewis puts his cup down on the table one morning while Daniel was eating his morning cereal, he didn't bother to try and tell himself that it felt serious. Final.
"you know I was thinking that we've been doing this a long time and maybe--" Lewis starts and Daniel stands up to go to the sink. Cuts him off.
"yeah it's probably like run it's course I guess?" Daniel said into the deep metal. His bowl sat silently in the bottom.
"what?" Lewis asked, stunned. But Daniel didn't try to parse it. He hadn't expected his chest to feel so tight.
"yeah like, isn't that what you're going to say? I mean it's probably best we cut it. We probably wouldn't be a good fit or something. I think we'd be terrible together or whatever." His hands weren't shaking where they clutched the sink.
"is that what you want? For us to..break up?" Lewis asked slowly, staring at the tense line of Daniel's back. He'd been thinking about how happy he'd been recently and it was George who pointed out that Daniel might have been the source. They've been doing this dance for so long that it was easy to forget that they weren't together.
Lewis wanted to change that to the positive. But he hadn't anticipated that maybe Daniel didn't feel the same.
"isnt that what you want?" Daniel turned on the faucet- aggressively flicking the handle upwards. The rush of water pressure was harsh.
"why won't you look at me?" Lewis looked down at his cooling cup. Flinching at the loud ting of the metal spoon falling into the bowl.
"just-- say what you're saying." Daniel exhaled turning off the faucet and wiping his hands in the terry cloth towel hanging from the stove.
"well if you want to end things so badly then sure." Lewis couldn't believe he'd gotten everything so wrong. He frowned, sad and disappointed that everything turned this way.
"yeah. Ok." Daniel cleared his throat when his voice cracked. He didn't acknowledge the thickness in his throat or the burning in his eyes. He just nodded to the sink and turned to leave the room.
"that's it?" Lewis' voice stopped him and Daniel whirled to glare red rimmed honey eyes at him. "Daniel?"
"it's what you wanted right?" Daniel snapped.
"what I wanted?" Lewis' eyes widened.
"yes! You think I haven't noticed the staring and the extra time apart. The calls taken in other rooms. It's fine- id been wondering-" Daniel snapped his mouth shut.
"I haven't been with someone else if that's what you're suggesting!" Lewis stood from his chair.
"I never said that?!" Daniel scraped at his wet eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. He was just trying to get out of this with some dignity in tact. "But you're done with me-"
"who said that?" Lewis looked taken aback.
"you did!" Lewis walked over to where he still stood stiffly and Daniel watched him warily.
"that's not what I was saying." Lewis whispered. He grabbed Daniel's hand to find it shaking. "I love you."
Daniel inhaled sharply.
"I love you and I was thinking that we should make this official."
Daniel's breath shuddered out of his chest. "Why didn't you lead with that?!" He chastised.
"I didn't think you'd immediately like divert to breaking up!" Lewis defended.
"fuck!" Daniel sagged and rested his face into Lewis' neck. "I love you too." He mumbled.
"next time I'll lead with that." Lewis promised, squeezing his arms around Daniel's broad shoulders.
"yes please."
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serpentine-owl · 2 years
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Most people when its warm: wears as little clothing as possible, spends the entire day outside soaking up as much sun as they can, engages in loud activities that usually involve music being played through speakers, meet up with large groups of friends, drinks copious amounts of alcohol and eats an absurd amount of food.
Me when its warm: tries on like 5 outfits to assess which one feels most comfortable, spends all day inside with the blinds closed to block as much sun as possible, engages in quiet activities like reading, embroidery or sleeping, spends the day completely alone, exclusively drinks water and eats smaller portions than normal.
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chilumi-shipper · 11 months
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From Me, For You
Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader
Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.
Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments
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Childe
Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.
You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.
It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.
But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...
He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"
And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.
You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.
You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.
The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.
"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.
The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.
Blood...
Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.
"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."
The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.
"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?
This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.
However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.
"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.
"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"
"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.
A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.
Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.
"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.
"This is just worthless."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.
You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.
Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.
"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.
Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?
Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.
His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.
A realization hit him... they look a lot like...
Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.
A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.
His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.
He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.
Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.
"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."
"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."
"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.
"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."
"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.
"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.
He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.
After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.
"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.
"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."
"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.
"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.
"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.
"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.
The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!
But he will persevere, just for you.
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Alhaitham
You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.
It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.
Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.
"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.
The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."
You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.
You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.
it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.
"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.
"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.
"Do you not want to be with me?"
"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.
He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."
And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.
First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.
His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.
Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D
You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!
Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.
Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!
You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.
The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.
At least... that's what you thought...
But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...
Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.
And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.
Apparently, that included your work.
"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."
"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."
"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."
You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.
Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.
You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.
"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.
That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.
This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.
A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.
"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.
"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.
"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.
"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.
"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."
"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."
And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?
Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.
Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.
...
"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.
The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.
"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.
"What are you doing?"
Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."
"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."
And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.
"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.
You made them because... you love him...
And he fucked up.
Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.
He had to fix this.
...
You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.
"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.
On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.
"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."
He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.
For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.
"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.
Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.
Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.
And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.
You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!
But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.
There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.
Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.
Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.
It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...
He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.
You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...
"Would you like to come in for dinner?"
...
You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.
After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.
"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.
With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."
You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.
"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?
You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."
He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."
"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."
"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.
"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."
"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.
"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."
You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.
"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.
"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.
"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"
"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.
"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."
...
"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.
"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.
The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.
"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.
Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."
"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.
"I'll keep that in mind."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D
It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!
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getosbigballsack · 1 month
Text
Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary
Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.
He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.
At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).
But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.
Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.
He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.
I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?
Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.
It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.
I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.
Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?
It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.
He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.
No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.
He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.
Does he not want me anymore?
Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.
I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,
That's my duty as his wife.
To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.
But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.
I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.
But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?
The last entry to your diary reads.
I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 
Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 
Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 
The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 
“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 
You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 
He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 
So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 
“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”
You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”
“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 
You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”
“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 
Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 
“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”
“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 
“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.
“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 
“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 
“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 
“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 
“I- I’ll do better.” 
“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”
“Yes?” you said. 
“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”
“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 
“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 
He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”
“Yes?” 
“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 
“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 
“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 
“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”
“Ok…”
“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."
“I love you too, Satoru.”
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ellastone-olsen · 3 months
Note
hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:
can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝
The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff
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★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader
Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?
★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)
★Word count: 1.5k
★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it
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The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?
“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.
Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.
Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.
While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.
Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.
"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.
The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.
"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.
Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."
This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.
“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.
Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.
For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.
When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.
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inkdrinkerworld · 24 days
Text
Reader takes bc and experiences nausea and loss in appetite because of it
“Spencer I’m not taking it and you can’t force me.” It’s Sunday, a day that used to be your favourite but once a month when you get your period Sunday becomes the day you take your first birth control for the month and you’re plagued with almost immediate nausea.
“Angel,” he coos softly, stroking your hand as you lay pitifully in bed. Spencer knows it can’t feel good, he’s been nauseous before and it isn’t fun. It’s even less fun seeing you so pale and bleak and a little down as you try to get a handle on yourself again.
“No,” you shake your head, turning away from where he’s got the box and a bottle water extended to you. “Can’t I just skip this month?”
Spencer knows it’s bad, it’s terrible on the best of days. But he also knows how bad it is when you don’t take the pills.
He doesn’t know how to make it better, he isn’t a medical doctor but he’s spoken to your OBGYN and she’d said to stick it out till your next appointment.
Except, sticking it out gives you intense sickness, a loss in appetite most days and a craving for refreshing fruits- like watermelon and cucumbers- when you finally do want to eat, which isn’t substantial enough to take any of your medicine.
“You know you can’t, angel.” He sets the things down near your legs. Spencer’s hand coasts your forehead and cheek. “Remember this is a new brand, the nausea is normal. I know it doesn’t feel good, but it’ll help in the long run.”
You know he’s trying to help but right now you don’t give a damn about the long run.
“C’mon, beautiful.” He’s pulling out the big guns now. Stroking your chin and calling you beautiful like that; all head in the clouds, full of love with his big brown eyes. “There’s soda crackers too, and when you feel up to it we can go get whatever you’d like for breakfast, yeah?”
“Spence,” but he only stays silent, looking at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky individually. “Can we get bagels? I want egg, ham and cheese in mine.”
Spencer rewards you with a dazzling smile and drops a kiss to your forehead. “We can get that and fresh ones for the week, angel.” He sets the tablet in your hand and opens the water, rubbing your hair out of your face as you swallow.
“What happened to beautiful?” Spencer laughs, reaching for the green tin of crackers.
“Here you go beautiful,” you preen, taking three crackers and nibbling slowly. “Proud of you, know it’s annoying to deal with.”
You nod, laying back down on your pillow when you finish the crackers.
“Think they’ll ever stop giving me nausea?” You ask Spencer, suddenly shifting positions so you can lay your head in his lap.
“They say it’s only supposed to last for the first three months, all statistics point to that being true. But bodies are all different, it’s not a one size fits all, maybe it won’t happen this month, maybe it’ll persist. Medicine is tricky when you add hormones into the mix.”
It isn’t as reassuring as you’d wanted to hear, but you know Spencer will help you through all the nausea and mood swings as long as he’s home.
795 notes · View notes
satorhime · 1 year
Text
. ・。・ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ・。・ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
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satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
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“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
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covetyou · 7 months
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sleepless
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: unprotected PIV, creampie, fingering, cumplay, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darlin’), mild praise kink, very mild dubcon (sleepy reader), bratty reader, no use of Y/N. word count: 3.5k summary: It’s been days since you last got anything resembling decent sleep. You’re exhausted, but more than that, you’re angry. Every little thing is pissing you off, and you just want to be left the fuck alone. Joel, ever the gentleman, has a solution to your sleeplessness, and your bad mood.
A/N: This was an out of body experience and I don’t know how it happened. Seriously, I stood up out of bed and wondered what the fuck I’d done. I haven’t written a single thing in an entire year (and that was for a funeral), and I have never written smut and don't know what I'm doing. So. Enjoy?
This one is for all of us who get really grouchy when tired. Or hungry. Or if the phase of the moon just isn't right. I see you honeybuns, and so does Joel.
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terrible graphics by me
“What's got your panties in a bunch?”
You were in a shit mood. It was a shitty day, and you were in a shit mood and Joel was not helping.
“Nothing.” You huff out. Totally believable.
Joel runs his tongue over his teeth, eying you. “Okay… You need to go make yourself come or somethin’?”
You slam your mug on the counter, hot tea sloshing over the edges with the force. ”No Joel, I don't need to fucking come.”
It was true. You didn’t. What you needed was to be left the fuck alone with your bad mood and misplaced rage. What you needed even more was to get some goddamn sleep.
“Right.”
“Just fuck off, Joel.” You say. And he does.
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An hour later and you still haven’t left the kitchen. You haven’t seen Joel again either - he knew better than to bother you when you were like this. He’d just piss you off more, which hardly seemed fair when he wasn’t the one to piss you off to begin with. You were the one to piss yourself off to begin with. You’d barely gotten more than a full night's sleep across 4 whole days, you were tired as hell, and the sleeplessness-induced irritation was starting to seep into every part of your day. You didn’t want to inflict your bad mood on anyone, but you would if it came to it, just to be left the fuck alone in peace and quiet.
Slamming doors as you tidy away the things you'd used that day, you continue to stomp around the kitchen. It was your mess. You'd used the coffee pot. You'd used a mug, a spoon, a plate. But it still pissed you the fuck off and you were trying to conceal the blind rage that was flowing through you.
You slam yet another door, putting a plate away - why did you use a fucking plate instead of eating over the sink - and suddenly your front is crushed against the counter, a warm, solid mass pushed against your back and strong arms boxing you in either side. Joel. You could hit him. You could fucking hit him. But you don't.
“Fuck off, Joel.” You say through gritted teeth, gripping the counter in front of you.
“When did you last sleep?” He growls in your ear. You feel his warm breath ghost the side of your face. How the fuck did he know. As if it wasn’t obvious.
You don’t answer, and he nudges a shoulder forward, momentarily pushing you more firmly against the counter to get you talking.
“At night.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sighs. “Which night, smartass.”
You’d taken the opportunity given by the movement of his arm to slip out from where he’d pinned you. You were not in the mood to play this game.
“I don't know.” You sneer at him as you fold your arms over your chest. It may have been childish, but you didn’t care.
“Yeah you do.”
“I said I don’t -”
“Yes. You fuckin’ do.” He was stern now, pointing a finger at you, daring you to be a smartass one more time. “Because I know it sure as fuck weren't last night.”
Busted. “The night before.” Looking away, you busy yourself with folding a dish towel.
“Really.” It’s not a question. Joel cocks an eyebrow at you with a twist of his head.
Shrugging your shoulders, you mumble back to him. “Couple hours.”
“And the night before that?”
“Didn't know you were the fucking Spanish inquisition.”
He cocks an eyebrow. Again.
“A couple fucking hours, Joel. Now fuck off and leave me alone or I swear I'll -”
He grabs you as you’re about to slap the dish towel onto the counter in anger and pulls you forward into his chest. His nose is practically touching yours and his eyes are impossibly dark.
“Shower. Now.” He means it, but you resist, trying to pull from his arms. You're pissed off. Now is not the time for him to be telling you what to do.
“No, I-”
“Get in the fucking shower.”
You can feel your top lip preparing to curl itself into a snarl. 
Instead, you turn on your heel and head for the shower.
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You’re still damp, wrapped in nothing but a towel, when you exit the bathroom.
“You done?”
Joel is stood there at the foot of the bed, his t-shirt already discarded somewhere in the room. His belt is unbuckled and he’s beginning to unbutton his jeans and pull down the fly. You can’t help but stare. The sleep-deprived rage that’s flowed through you all day feels an awful lot like arousal when your brain is too muddled to know which way is up. And when you’re looking at Joel. Especially when you’re looking at Joel. 
You gawk at the hard planes of his body. Broad shoulders, muscle built from years of working on construction sites, and a softness around the edges given to him by the comforts you know he loves so much.
It’s only 6pm. You were now more tired than angry, some of your anger washed away in the shower, somewhere between scrubbing your body and rinsing conditioner from your hair. 
You float toward the dresser and open a drawer, planning on readying yourself for bed - you suspect that’s the plan anyway. “Shower and bed” is your usual routine, after all. You distantly register that he’s talking again, but the words don’t compute until he’s twisting your head toward him with a firm finger on your chin.
“No panties. Get on the bed.” He cocks his head toward the plush bed in the middle of the room. You don’t move. “Get on the fucking bed.”
Dropping your towel, you move to the bed. You’re compliant. So tired you’ve given up. So tired, the rage can’t take hold in the same way any more. So tired, you’d do just about anything to get a few hours sleep. The fight in you has all but fucked off. For now.
Your limbs feel like lead as you pull yourself onto the comforter and fall back somewhere toward the center of the mattress. You’re too tired for grace right now. You just need to sleep. If only you could fucking sleep.
There’s a rustle of discarded jeans, and a moment later, the mattress is shifting under Joel’s weight and the heat of him radiates up you as he shifts his body on top of yours. At some point your knees were knocked apart and his own had settled between them, but you don’t remember exactly how. All you're focused on is the heat of him. 
A large hand ghosts over your hip, down the soft swell of your thigh and between your legs. He starts stroking gently at the soft skin of your inner thighs. Moving up, and up, and up, he switches sides just before meeting the apex of your legs and moves to give your other thigh attention.
You don’t know if you’ve been breathing, but you’re not dead yet so you must have remembered at some point. All you know is you’re somehow sensitive and numb in equal measure - feeling everything so harshly, but so distantly.
Soft kisses are being pressed to you - your neck, jaw, temples, chest. Up and down, just like his hands. The movement of him could send you off, but the heat above of him is burning through you too much for you to be lulled to sleep.
Swapping from side to side, he caresses your soft flesh until he’s so impossibly close to your center yet not close enough to be touching. A soft sweep of his hand over your cunt, and you’re pulled from your daze with a jolt.
“Joel, I said I don't want to come.” You try to be firm, gripping his arm and lightly tugging, but you don’t want to be. You do want to come. You’re tired, you didn’t want it before, and you’re being stubborn because fuck you always are, but now that he’s here - now that he’s there - you want it.
“I ain't makin’ you come. I'm gettin’ this pussy wet so I can fuck it.” He says it so matter of factly you could headbutt him.
Instead, your mouth falls into an o-shape and you stare at him. Your grip on his arm weakens, partly with your resolve, and partly with exhaustion.
“I -”
“Shut up.”
“But I -”
The firm fingers that were caressing your thighs so softly a moment ago are suddenly gripping your chin hard, and your eyes snap directly to his. “I said shut the fuck up.” He lands a gentle peck on your lips before releasing you, trailing his hand back down the contours of your body. His nose brushes up and down the side of your neck and jaw, occasional soft kisses being pressed to the sensitive skin there as he breathes you in. 
You are floating.
His fingers meet your folds again, relentlessly teasing and stroking the softness of your labia, a flare of something coursing through you that stokes a fire no longer built of rage, but arousal.
Joel looks down the stretch of your body as he feels at your entrance, parting you with two fingers. Teasing, he swirls his finger tip just outside of you, collecting the veritable oil slick you'd generated in the last few minutes of his careful teasing.
“There we go. We got there, huh?” He almost sounds condescending and you want to slap off the smug look you know is on his face.
“Now. Here's what we're gonna do.” He murmurs into your ear as he still teases around your cunt, dipping a little further in but never down to a knuckle. 
“You're goin’ to shut the fuck up and take what I give you. Then you're goin’ to go the fuck to sleep whether you like it or not.” 
He pulls his finger from your cunt, and before you have a chance to protest the loss of sensation or his instruction, he’s slipping the slicked finger between your lips. Your brain stutters to a halt and all you can do is gently suckle on his digit, tasting the sweetness of your own pussy.
“That taste good?” He strokes your hair, your face, and a soft whine escapes you. “Yeah I know it does baby.”
He brushes your hair back as he takes his finger from your mouth and puts it into his own, tasting the remnants of you. You stare at him, dumb from sleep, dumb from the wetness you know must be dripping out of you. 
“I know.” He coos as he sits back on his haunches. His heat is so far away now, and you almost whine again until you feel him notch at your entrance. Your eyes widen. “I know.” He pushes in the weeping tip of his cock - you don’t know how long he’s been hard but you can feel it- and slides in with a gentle thrust. Rocking his hips, you take more and more of him until he slides home and pushes his hips until they’re flush with yours. 
You are so impossibly full, stretched without much warning, and your mind so deliciously blank that breathing has to become a conscious effort.
He pulls out slightly, giving you room to breathe, before pushing back in, deeper than before. “That's it. You take it. You're getting your medicine now, huh? I'm goin’ to come in this pussy and you're goin’ to go the fuck to sleep. Ain't ya? Huh? Answer me sweetheart.”
Practically going cross-eyed with the effort, you look him in the eyes. “Mhm.”
“Good. There's a good girl. Just take it and then you'll sleep. You been needin’ this. Too damn pissy for your own good to be able to ask for what you need.”
He’s fucking into you so deep, so gently that you can do nothing but quietly gasp with each rock of his hips into yours.
“Once you get some come in your pussy that'll send you right to sleep.” He’s right. You know he’s right and it’s all you want. You need it, but words are lost to you so you nod your head softly, before letting out a deep moan. He’s pushed himself even deeper and he’s holding there for a moment before releasing. He repeats the action a few times, and your moans get higher and higher pitched.
“I'm goin’ to get it nice and deep, just how you like it. This is where you need it, ain't it?” He pushes low on your stomach. He’s always been big, but like this he feels even bigger. You let out a whine. If you had the energy to sustain your rage and be fucked, you'd be furious at your own pathetic noises, but you were so past any of it.
“Yeah.” Too sleepy and too cockdumb, it’s the first word you’ve been able to utter for what feels like an hour.
“Oh, baby, I know, you're so tired.” He tuts and picks up the pace of his movements, his solid length slowly drawing out of your messy cunt before punching back in.
Maybe if you were even more tired, the smooth, rhythmic movement of his hips slapping against yours would let you drift off to sleep, but it has the opposite effect. You can’t possibly sleep now. You need him, you need more. He’s everywhere but not everywhere enough and your arousal pools and drips down from your needy hole, down the crevasse of your ass and onto the bed below. 
Words are gone again, so you whine, high pitched and needy.
“You're taking your medicine so good baby. So good.” His words shoot right fucking through you. You could come. Oh fuck, you want to come. But you don’t know the words anymore - you don’t know any words.
So you whine again.
“Oh, it's okay, it's okay.” He shushes you, kissing your temple. “I know what you need.”
He doesn't tease. He simply brushes a hand down between your legs, never breaking the rhythm of his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt. He splays his fingers around your pussy for a second, feeling his length as it slides in and out of you, collecting your wetness in the process.
Those same fingers trail up and find their place on your neglected clit, circling lightly.
He searches your face, waiting for the connection of his fingertips with your clit to register in your eyes. There it is.
“That's it, huh? That right there.” He adds a firmer pressure to his fingertips as he swirls them around your slicked clit. Your eyes have glossed over and you let out a keening whine at his ministrations, your pussy already twitching around him. 
“Thank you. Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s words, so you’ll take it.
“Oh now she's polite, huh. Gettin’ what she needs and suddenly she remembers her manners.” He teases. Asshole.
He was so good at this. All of it. He knew the exact buttons to push, the exact way to get you wet, the words to say, the way to be. If you wanted it hard he'd give it hard, if you wanted it gentle he'd give it gentle. And this, some delicious no-man's land in-between where his movements were gentle but his words were somewhat harsh, was sending you over the edge.
The rhythm of his fingers and cock is so in sync, so perfect, that you feel your whole body begin to quake as the beginning of your orgasm flares through you.
“Oh that's it, you fucking come. You come. Didn't even know you needed it huh. Don't even know your own pussy like I do, baby. You needed all this. Needed my cock in you, feelin’ so good, needed to come around me.”
Your walls flutter around his rock solid length, gripping him, and your legs clench, trying to snap shut but unable with the press of his body between your thighs. Your orgasm washes over you, briefly blinding you and you feel Joel’s fingers and thrusts speed up, fucking you through it and rocking you back and forth as your mouth opens in a silent scream. 
One ragged intake of breath later and you go limp against the mattress. Joel stills, removing his fingers from your oversensitive clit, stroking at your arm and making you twitch.
He nuzzles his nose into you and gives a deep press into you with his hips. You gasp and open your eyes. His face is softer now - no condescending wrinkle of his raised brows, no smirk.
“You gonna play stupid next time? Huh?” He softly traces a finger over your chin and mouth.
“No.” You try not to pout at him, you really do. You’re not sure you succeed.
“You gonna ask for what you need when you need it?” His finger moves to trace over your nose, your forehead.
You nod, soaking in the feeling of his hands, acutely aware of his cock still impaling you so deeply. “Mm.”
“Good. Good girl.” He mumbles into your mouth, kissing you, licking at the seam of your lips.
With a sudden movement he pulls out and snaps his hips forward, swallowing your gasp with his mouth.
You’re fucked out and exhausted, but he’s not finished.
“You're gonna take this come now.” He practically whispers it, and you want to scream with how it reignites every nerve ending in your body to his touch. “I'm gonna come in this pussy and then we're getting those panties on you.” His head ticks over to the dresser, where the drawer still lies open from earlier. Oh. You’d forgotten about that.
“Then, you're goin’ the fuck to sleep.”
“Mm.” You nod weakly. You'll do anything. Anything he says.
“We'll deal with the messy panties when you wake up, sweetheart. See how much of a mess I make in you.” 
His movements barely speed up, barely get harder, but you know he's close. He’s been close for a while - he likes it when you fight but he likes it when you’re feeble too. 
"Yeah. Ohhhh - fuck - yeah." He doesn't stop moving, fucking you in the same steady rhythm as he empties himself deep into your cunt, thick ropes of come filling you and making you feel even more impossibly warm and wet as it leaks out of you already, still stuffed full of Joel's cock.
"Fuck. There we go.” He says with a sigh, stroking your shoulder and kissing your neck. “There we go baby.”
His cock twitches as it starts to soften, but he holds it, and his come, inside of you for a moment until it’s an impossible task.
You’re delirious from the orgasm, from the constant rhythm of Joel’s fucking setting a metronome up in your body, and from so little sleep.
A deep kiss is pressed to your lips, you try to catch it and return the pressure, but your reflexes are so slow that he’s away and sliding out of you before you can even register what’s happening. Another stroke of your shoulder and his weight is suddenly off of you completely.
You could float away without him there to tether you down.
Distantly, you hear the slide of a drawer in the dresser. You're dozing when he slides one foot then another into the legs of your panties, before pulling them up your legs to your knees. Fingertips ghost up your legs, and meet at your dripping core. He looks at the mess made of your pussy, clicks his tongue, and he fingers some of the escaped come back into you with two thick fingers.
“Up.” His voice gruff with post-orgasm relaxation and his fingers still gently moving inside of you. You lift your hips, probably barely, but it's the most you can give right now. Joel shimmies them up the rest of the way with one hand, and pulls his fingers from inside you once they're settled in place.
He rubs the soaked seat of your clean panties. "We'll keep that right there, right where you need it.”
"Mm." You nod, barely seeing him now through the haze of your sleepiness and that post-fuck haze. He was right. You did need it. He was always right.
Another soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel a soft caress across your arms, shoulders, neck, face. 
Just as you register the cold you feel without him on top of you, you feel the weight of a soft blanket fall over you. Your eyes are impossibly heavy now, but you realize you haven’t been seeing anything for a while anyway. You almost don’t recall ever being angry - your frustration from the day flipped into arousal so quickly, and melted away with the waning of your orgasm.
“Sleep.” His voice is so deep and so inviting. Your body so relaxed and ready to give in to him, give in to sleep.
You’d been chasing sleep for weeks, only for it to evade you. Being given dregs of what your body would let you have. But this time, for the first time in weeks, you don’t let your eyes fall closed, you close them. You don’t let sleep take you, you take hold of it. 
“Sweet dreams, darlin’.” And you’re gone.
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theonottwife · 4 months
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theodore nott x hufflepuff reader
summary: in which cormac mclaggen hurts theo’s precious girlfriend
warnings: S/A, protective!theo, violence, fluff, blood, i also didn’t proof read.
things with you and theo had been off for the past week and you couldn’t quite put your finger on what was going on. you had barley spoke with him but when you did, it was only brief and cold. it seemed as if he was avoiding you. which made you upset, really upset.
it was a rainy saturday night at hogwarts, but for the past couple of weeks the rain was a normal occurrence. you sat in the hufflepuff common room staring at the ceiling bored out of your bloody mind. all you wanted to do was lay in theo’s arms by the fire but with his sudden mood change you worried he wasn’t interested in seeing you. so you decided to go to the library and study for a bit.
as you walked into the dimly lit library you noticed a few familiar faces separated along the library , enzo berkshire, cormac mclaggen, hermione granger. enzo immediately spotted you and gave you a welcoming smile.
“y/n hey!” he started.
“oh hi enzo!” you replied.
“how have you been?” he questioned.
to be honest you hadn’t been good. you couldn’t get the thought of theo’s bizarre behavior out of your head.
“well i don’t know, things with me and theo just haven’t been the same as they used to.” you admitted.
enzo looked down, almost like he knew something you didn’t.
“y/n” theo started.
you waited patiently for a response from enzo.
“theo has just been going through a lot of stuff. i mean you know his parents, they’re not like yours y/n. he’s just got a lot going on and doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions. he thought it might be best to just distance himself from you, he doesn’t want to hurt you y/n.”
your heart sunk thinking of your beloved boyfriend in pain. all you wanted to do was comfort him and make him feel better and the thought of him not wanting you around made your eyes water.
“it’s not your fault y/n. he’s doing this to protect you” enzo ensured.
you shook your head, all of your pain was bottled up inside you and was ready to explode.
“just let me see him.” you pleaded, now a tear had fallen down your cheek.
“it’s for the best, you’ll only get yourself hurt trying to talk to him.” he states.
“are you fucking serious enzo, he’s my boyfriend and he’s in pain and not being able to do anything about that breaks my heart.” you confess angrily, trying to keep your voice down in the quiet library.
“i’m sorry y/n i think he just needs to be left alone right now. i really am sorry”
at this point you had tears streaming down your face. you had to get out of here and calm down.
“well tell him i miss him.” you said quietly before walking out of the library with your head down. you didn’t know where you were going as you walked down an empty corridor but you just needed to clam down.
finally you found an empty bench at the end of an old hallway. you put your head against your knees. you couldn’t stop crying. you really did miss theo and what hurt the most was you couldn’t even see him.
a few minutes passed and a hand began to rub your back. your heart began to beat faster and faster, thinking it was theo. you looked up to see cormac mclaggen and cried even more.
“y/n it’s alright im here.” he gave you a soft smile as he continued rubbing your back.
“what’s got you so upset baby?”
baby. that’s what theo called you .
“t-theo” you begin.
“i just can’t do it anymore. something’s terribly wrong with him and i can’t even be there for him.” you confess as you begin to calm down.
cormac’s hands move down from your back, now approaching your thighs. his touch didn’t feel so friendly anymore.
you scrunch your eyebrows at him. “look cormac, just because theo has me upset doesn’t mean he’s not my boyfriend.” you snap.
“maybe i can give you a good reason as to why he shouldn’t be your boyfriend. he doesn’t deserve a pretty little thing like you, baby.” he smirks
“stop it.”
his hands began to move further down and he inserts his fingers inside your pussy.
tears threaten your eyes once again, this time your eyes are laced with fear.
“fucking stop.” you repeated as you attempt to get off the bench. he pulls you down by the waste and pushes you against him.
“cmon baby.” he laughs while moving his fingers deeper inside you.
your once again crying. your fucking whimpering. you just want theo.
cormac starts kissing your neck and moves his free hand tight around your left breast, squeezing it.
“someone help me! please!” you yell.
“shut the fuck up. let me fucking touch you like the bloody whore you are.” he covers your mouth as his fingers move faster under your yellow dress.
but to your luck you hear footsteps around the corner.
hermione granger looks at the scene infront of her and drops her mouth. finally cormac lets go of you as he runs away.
your knees drop to the floor as you sob even more.
hermione runs over to you and holds you in her arms.
“y/n i’m so so sorry.”
“that dirty fuck. you didn’t deserve that.” she whispers.
you can’t stop crying. the thought of cormac haunts you.
“let’s get you up y/n, okay? i can take you up to your dorm, wherever you want.” she says as she picks you up off the ground and holds your hand.
you nod.
as you walked past the library, enzo see’s you and runs over.
“look y/n im really sorry about theo, i didn’t know it would upset you that much.” he freaks out.
“enzo.” hermione starts as she looks at your who’s looking down.
“this isn’t about theo anymore. something happened.” she whispers.
theo’s face drops.
“what do you mean something happened?” he raises his voice.
hermione looks back at you again and shakes her head out of empathy.
“hermione tell me what the fuck happened!” enzo shouts.
“it was cormac.” she admits.
you begin crying more, hearing that awful name.
“cmon y/n.” enzo whispers as he grabs your hand taking you to the slyterhin dormitory.
once you arrive in the dark green dormitory you receive concerned looks from slytherins all around. enzo takes you up to theo’s room and barges in.
“what the fuck you fucking-“ theo shouts as he turns around.
sobs escape you as you lock eyes with him. his dark eyes turn soft as he sees you in such a vulnerable state.
“baby.” he speaks softly as he runs to give you a hug.
oh how you missed sweet theo.
“baby. what’s wrong? i’m sorry baby i know i haven’t been a good boyfriend im really sorry.”
you just stay in his arms and say nothing.
“baby talk to me. what happened?
no repsonse.
“enzo what the fuck happened” he demands.
“it was cormac mclaggen.” he says calmly, trying to keep theo’s cool. theo grits his teeth.
you grab theo tighter.
“what the fuck did he do to my princess!” he yells.
he lifts your chin up.
“baby, what did he do?” he asks with soft eyes.
“h-he fingered me and i told him to s-stop.” you start to cry more.
“b-but he held me down, a-and i couldn’t l-leave.”
a flip switches in theo. he takes a deep breath.
“bloody fucking hell.” he screams as he slams the door to his room open and runs out of the dormitory.
enzo runs over to you and holds you while theo makes his way to the gryffindor dormitory.
he sees hermione approaching the fat lady portrait, opening the door.
“hermione where the fuck is cormac.” theo says lowly.
hermione only points upstairs to his room, knowing damn well what’s about to happen.
theo runs up the stairs and arrives the door and slams it open. cormac turns around and his eyes go wide.
“you motherfucker!” theo yells as he tackles cormac to the floor.
“don’t you ever fucking touch her, look at her, breathe near her again” he shouts as he punches cormac multiple times in the face.
cormac doesn’t respond.
theo continues to punch cormac.
“do you fucking hear me you sick fuck. i’m gonna kill you, dirty piece of shit!” theo shouts louder.
cormac only nods, not being able to speak.
“say you fucking understand!” theo demands.
“i-i under s-stand.” cormac whispers.
theo grabs cormac’s face and begins slamming it into the floorboard continuously. blood drips everywhere.
cormacs roommate runs in and grabs theo’s shoulders.
“your gonna kill him mate, leave him alone.” he pleads.
“i’m trying to fucking kill him” theo confesses through gritted teeth.
hermione walks in.
“please theo, y/n needs you right now. cormac isn’t worth your time with her.” she says softly.
theo thinks about you and decides she’s right.
“this isn’t over mclaggen.” theo spits as he leaves the dorm room.
once theo arrives back to the slytherin dormitory he runs upstairs to see you patiently waiting for him in his bed.
you look at him. sweaty, panting, but what you really noticed was the blood all over him.
“baby, let me wash my hands then we can cuddle.”
theo washes his hands and takes off his button up and pants and gets in bed with you.
he snakes his arm around your waist and plays with yiur hair. you finally calm down. you finally feel safe.
“im so sorry baby, ill never ever let anything like that happen to you again. it’s all my fault i should’ve been there for you instead of acting like an asshole.” he whispers softly.
“theo shh.” you whisper.
he goes silent for a little while.
“your safe with me. okay baby? i’m always here.” he holds you tight.
“i love you theo.” you smile for the first time since it all happened.
“i love you so fucking much baby. you should’ve seen fucking mclaggen i almost killed the bitch for you.” he smiled.
theo was your other half. you were theo’s other half. theo kept you safe. you kept him happy. theo kept you happy. you kept him safe.
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strawberrysainz · 5 months
Text
holocene. charles leclerc
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charles leclerc x fem!reader
“ a quiet last day in london with your boyfriend, except, you’re not leaving with him. ”
a warning — angsty, suggestive, use of profanity. NSFW: SMUT. don’t read/interact if you’re under 18!
word count: 3.1k
i am terribly sorry for how slightly devastating this is. i was listening to bon iver and holocene just made me start bawling and remember this day (it is not entirely fictitious, after all… the artist is true, except i’ve never had the honour of meeting him; though his art lights up nearly every home around my home town.)
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The soft sounds of a nature show in the background made her eyes close sleepily while Charles held her; the mid morning light shone through the windows, and she had a sudden urge to stand up. He stared up at her as she stood there indecisively, staring off into space, a kind of stupid smile on his face.
“Let’s do something today. Let’s go get lunch.” She said with a nod, and he raised his eyebrows, casting a glance to his suitcases that stood there on the wooden floor. “Okay.”
He got up, holding her, kissing her cheek softly, and they stood there for a second. “What do you feel like? Where do you want to go?” His voice was hoarse, sleep still coating it from their lie-in, and she followed him to her bedroom.
“There’s a really cute little restaurant down the road that does such good burgers.” She said, slowly undressing to pull on other clothes, and he had that strike of desire he always did when he watched her embrace her most intimate state - and he bent down to meet her gaze in the mirror, leaning to kiss her neck softly.
“You look beautiful.” He said softly, and he meant it, watching her put on makeup.
She blushed, and leaned up to kiss him, slowly, passionately.
He smiled, eyes sparkling with something she had yet to memorise: “You’re making this very difficult for me, you know that?” giving her a long, slow kiss, hands on her hips.
She broke away, bashfully. “Oi. I want burgers,” and laughed when he pouted.
He laughed then, unable to stay pretend-mad at her for long. “Fine, fine.” His tongue slipped on the words, a normal occurrence due to English besting him at times. She giggled as she pulled on a sweater, patting down her hair. She swatted his ass as she found a purse from the depths of her cupboard, and he rolled his eyes playfully as they left her apartment, going down to her car.
She slid into the passenger seat, patting her well-worn leather of the Fiat. He followed, starting the engine and pulling out of the position on the street. “What do you want to do after? A movie?” He glanced over at her playfully.
“You’re in such a movie mood this weekend.” She giggled, and continued. “But there’s an exhibition at some gallery in town of an artist from my home town - could we have a quick look?” He shrugged. “Sure.” (He didn’t really care what they did; he just wanted to spend time with her in her element.)
She leaned over then to stroke his thigh, comfortably, and as he did an excellent parallel park that had her nodding, impressed - she gasped when he got out and pressed her against the car, kissing her quickly, and when he pulled back, he grinned with a hint of mischief.
She laughed, leading him to the front door of the restaurant. “You look lovely today, did I mention that?” He said cheekily, hand on her waist, and she told him to be quiet, blushing as the waitress greeted them.
They ordered burgers and chips, and she studied the decor while he stared at her, memorising her face. He slid a hand up her leg, looking at her cheekily when she narrowed her eyes. “Stooop.” She groaned, fighting back a smile.
Charles grinned and moved in closer. “I think you like it.” He teased, voice lowering, and her mouth dropped open - the waitress returned with their food - and she thanked her, trying not to flush at his rough voice.
He leaned over and stole a chip- she in turn stole one of his. They grinned at each other.
💌🎨☕️🎶
They were walking to the Tube station, trying to figure out the best way to get to this obscure gallery, and a few people stopped to ask for a picture with him, but he never stopped holding her hand (much to her embarrassment, but also, delight).
His hand gripped hers as they stood on the escalator, smiling at a fan who called over to them, and they waited for the next train, getting on and miraculously getting two seats open next to each other. They slid into the seats, and their legs brushed as he pulled her comfortably into him.
“Tell me more about this guy.” “The art,” he expanded as she gives him a confused look, and she nods. “So back home -“ she got that wistful look on her face like she always did when she spoke of her home country, much like he did -“There was this pretty famous artist who lived in the town where I went to school. I took you one day for lunch and that ice cream when we went to visit a few months ago?”
He pretended to know exactly what town she was talking about.
“Anyway, this exhibition is basically his whole life’s work. He’s just this old guy. But his paintings are so, so vibrant and colourful. They’re in a lot of my parents’ friends’ houses.” He thinks about the paintings when she speaks, nodding, and leans back against the wall. The lapse in conversation makes her take out her phone, carrying on reading.
He takes a peek at her screen, and watches her peaceful expression, and squeezes her hand still holding his lightly.
“What’re you reading?” He asks, thinking back to the stacks and stacks of books lining her apartment.
“It’s translated from French -” she smiles when he instantly becomes more interested - “And it’s about this woman who’s like, fascinated with funerals.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“It’s intriguing.” She says instead, and his lips try to say the same word, the sound of his heavy accent distorting the word, and she snorts, “She’s kind of on a quest to be constantly positive. She’s very likeable. I don’t know why she likes funerals so much yet though.”
He nods thoughtfully, his fingers still entwined with hers. “She’s trying to find purpose in something others find sad.” She stifles a giggle at his enthusiasm to try and engage. It’s sweet. “I’ll make a literary nerd of you yet.”
(Unbeknownst to them, the woman opposite is recording, and it will go viral on Twitter and TikTok later, but neither of them will care because they were so terribly happy in that moment.)
He giggled softly, his heart swelling with warmth, and gently strokes her hair, lost in the comforting silence and the harsh yet low light and the peaceful rhythm of their breaths.
She looked up to check when their stop is - not for another three - and contentedly pressed her lips to their joined hands while she continued to read. His eyes closed, breathing even, enjoying her touch. “It’s been a while since we had something like this,” he thought out loud, thinking of the preciousness of the moment. She nodded, thinking back to when last they were able to sit down and slow down in public, not for an hour or two and then him having to fly to another country - well, it kind of was - stealing hours away in their apartments.
“We could try and do it more often,” he said, but it was more of a wish. She looked up at him adoringly. “I know.”
He leaned down slightly, their faces close enough to feel each other’s breaths. His eyes locked onto hers as he spoke softly. “Just think of what else we could be doing in these quiet moments…”
She quietly gasped. “Charles!” He chuckled softly, unable to hide his amusement. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips trailing along her jawline softly. He leaned in even closer, sharing this moment with her.
The sound of their stop being announced interrupted it, and there was a hint of sadness on her face as she looked up at him.
He reluctantly pulled back, and followed her, filled with longing to stay on this train for as long as they could. As they walked, he quietly declined photos this time, because he senses she’s a little upset. They walk up the stairs, up into the light, and she pulls out her maps app to find which way they should be going.
Charles walked beside her, his hand slipping into hers instinctively, offering reassurance.
💌🎨☕️🎶
At the gallery, they enter and the woman at the front has her accent too - presumably because of this exhibition - and she gasped with delight, leaving her heavy heart behind, letting go of his hand to hug her, and he watched them interact while some people stared at him curiously.
His smile brightened as she started rambling on about her connection to this guy. He couldn’t help but have a sense of warmth for how animated she became around her roots.
She pulled back then, and wished the woman a goodbye, starting to look at this man’s life, from beginning to end. Charles leaned in close, his arm brushing against hers as he studied the paintings. He couldn’t help but be drawn to the presence she currently exuded - the warmth, the joy to be there. She studied a particular piece and gasped. “We had a copy of this at school! It’s a famous street in town.” She pulled out her phone to take a picture, fondness coating her expression.
He listened intently, his eyes scanning the painting as she spoke. The image of her, taking in this same art as she did now, made him wish that he could’ve experienced this with her then too. She held on to his arm, feeling oddly emotional, and they continued on, laughing at some sculpture.
His gaze never left her, his touch comforting. He savoured this moment - holding on to her, this feeling of being completely at home.
She reached to clutch her chest as an old man with graying hair came up to them. She let out a little breath that Charles recognised as one of awe - it had to be the artist.
The man recognised her accent and they hugged for a moment, and he could see the emotion in her eyes as they fell into that language he heard snippets of every now and then, and he envies this guy for a moment, conversing with her in a language he was desperate to learn, to know to be closer to her, and he can tell she’s going on about how precious this all is. The artist reached out to shake Charles’ hand, and with a quick correction from his girlfriend he falls easily into English.
His heart beating a little faster, he accepted the handshake and held onto it for a moment more than he thought he would. He listened to their conversation, determined to learn more about what made them come alive in such a way that made him wildly jealous. She swats his arm so he offers to take a picture of them, eyebrow raised at her fangirl behaviours, and he captures the moment of sheer joy.
The artist moved away, to greet other patrons, and she looked up at him in delight, with unspoken love. He couldn’t help but feel terribly drawn to her in that moment, their connection deepening.
“I love you.” She says, not quite believing what’s she’s just said - for the first time - and his breath caught. He reached out to touch her, to hold her hand.
She looked back at him, a tentative little smile on her face. His heart raced. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers.
“I love you too,” he said huskily, filled with emotion.
She kissed him softly, briefly, trying not to draw attention. His eyes flutter closed as their lips met, tenderly, passionately. Despite her attempt to keep it short, he cradled her face with his free hand, and his heart pounded as they pulled apart.
💌🎨☕️🎶
On the way out, they’re gifted with a quick sketch on some scrap paper - an old ticket? - by the old man; it’s of them, holding closely on to each other, staring at a painting. Her hair cascading and his shoulders broad - and now she’s fighting back tears as they study it together.
He gently wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead softly, eyes brimming with tears he tries desperately to keep in. They leave after thanking the artist graciously, holding on to that picture tightly. “It’s perfect,” he whispers as she snaps a picture of his fingertips holding on to it. He slips it into his pocket, love radiating from his every pore as he looks at her.
In her head she thinks, we could show our kids that one day, and that makes her burst into tears, and his heart aches for her, pulling her into his arms. “It’s okay, my love.”
“I don’t want you to go tonight.” She says pitifully, and he rubs his hand up and down her back. “It’s alright,” he soothes her. They find a bench in a nearby park, and she tries to calm herself down, but the impending idea of him leaving for two months makes her cry even harder.
He murmurs something comforting as he wipes away her tears with his thumbs, caressing her face. The tender expression on his face makes her still, staring into his big eyes. “Today was so lovely. But darling… I can’t stand not seeing you until the end of the year.” She sniffles.
His heart ached as he pulled her in tightly, holding her close. “But you’re always with me, my love.” He pats his heart, and her tears slowly stop.
“You know, when we met, I never thought that someone could come into my life and make me love her so much to the point where I would do anything for her. But now…” he says softly, “But now that you’re here I can’t imagine living without you.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Stop being so fucking sweet. I’ll cry again.”
He laughs. “I can’t resist the opportunity.”
She scoffs and hugs him again. He held her tight, heart beating wildly with love and desire, and trailed kisses down her jawline. “Fuck. I miss you so much already.”
She bit her lip.
💌🎨☕️🎶
“You know what would make me feel better?” He says, as they walk into her apartment building’s lobby, tracing a circle on her hipbone, “If you just text me every day. Even if it’s just to say hi.”
“Of course I will!” She looks at him, indignant. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head.
“What time do you have to go?” She said softly, and he stared down at his watch as they walked into her apartment. “Two hours,” he said softly, and she stared up at him with an expression in her eyes that made him shiver.
She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, languidly sliding her hands along his neck, lips parted as she pulled away.
A desire prompted her to slide off her jersey, and his eyes were dark as he moved to pull off his clothes. She slid off her top, standing just in her bra, and he let out a sigh as he traced her collarbone, kissing her easily.
He slid the sketch out of his pocket and left it on a side table as he was left in his underwear, and she was pulling off her skirt and tights so they stood there on the wooden floor, desire coating their faces.
The sight of her nipples pressing through her lacy bra made him groan, and he felt himself hardening as he kissed her neck, sucking it that made him satisfied to pull away from with the knowledge that his marks would still be left for the next few days.
She felt herself heat up, her thighs clenching as he pressed her down onto the couch. He kissed the valley between her breasts as he slid off her bra, and she whined deliciously as he sucked her sensitive nipple. Kissing down towards her stomach, he slid off her panties, exposing her wetness to him, staring up at her needy face, biting his lip and feeling terribly turned on.
He tentatively began to press his nose into her pussy as he began to lick her, and she was making sounds that had him a little shaky, his thumb tracing tiny, light circles on her clit while she moaned in pleasure.
She stared down at him, hands laced in his fluffy hair, and she could already feel how wet she was, rutting a little into his face which made him groan.
His desperate eyes made her nod, so she sat up while he took his aching cock out of his boxers, and her lips parted a little as she stared at the look of need on his face.
She leaned in to kiss him, his one hand pumping his cock and the other rubbing her nipple, and she arched into him as he pushed into her. Their eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and she began to ride him, them both letting out little moans, and as he began to hit certain spots inside her she was pleading for things she didn’t know, her head everywhere but no where, feeling herself edge closer.
“So fucking hot,” he breathed, and tried to kiss her but they both moaned loudly at one particular stroke, so they just kept going, him becoming faster and his fingers pressing at her clit; she felt deliciously warm and desperate to cum, so she rode him a little faster, their hips rolling in unison, and she let out little sighs as his fingers began to circle her roughly, clenching him so he moaned.
“Cum for me,” he breathed, and she grinded against him, expression contorting to one of pure ecstasy as she began to reach the edge. He stopped for a second, becoming still, and she nearly screamed with protest, and with a smirk he let her continue. “Brat,” he whispered, and she let out a moan.
They breathily began to cum together, her breaths becoming erratic, his thumb making it nearly impossible to think.
As he came inside her, thick and warm, she came, shaking on his cock. “Fuck,” she whispered, and they were lying there, enjoying the pure pleasure of their bodies together.
💌🎨☕️🎶
“Goodbye, mon amour,” he breathed, and her messy hair and just her in a sweater of his made it so much worse. “Love you.” She said hoarsely. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against him. He took a deep breath.
He pulled away slowly, gazing into her eyes. Her eyes followed him as he turned to leave. He took a last look at her, and stepped out the door.
💌🎨☕️🎶
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f1waglife charles and his new gf out in london today!
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author’s note: let me know your thoughts. like, reblog, show me some love in the comments. love u. i’m glad to be back. 💋
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aperrywilliams · 10 months
Text
Under the Rain (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Spencer fucked up but Reader loves him.
A/N: It's winter on this side of the world, and the rain makes me kind of sad.
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Is there anything worse than your boyfriend standing you up in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary? Yes, being stood up by your boyfriend in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary day while outside it’s raining cats and dogs.
That's worse. And pathetic.
You feel pathetic, sitting in that chair, all dolled up and waiting. You arrived at 19:30, and now your watch reads 20:45. No sight of Spencer.
What the fuck?
He was the one who suggested a romantic dinner in this very restaurant. He was the one who told you to make reservations. How could he forget it? You knew there wasn’t an active case. The very Penelope told you it was paperwork day when you texted her in the afternoon.
In the past hour, you dialed his number several times. You were worried at some point: what if something terrible happened to him? But you know bad news travels fast, so you assumed he didn’t show up just because he forgot. Deep down, you wanted there to be another explanation because if he only forgot, that would strengthen the idea of how little you mean to him.
Sensing the pitiful looks the hostess and the waitress sent you occasionally, you only wanted to dig a hole and disappear.
When the clock marked 21:00, you gave up. You asked the hostess for your coat and left the place completely silent.
The rain pouring outside was the perfect scenario for your current mood. You thought about calling a cab in front of the restaurant, but you only wanted to be far from that place as soon as possible, so you started to walk in the rain.
Goodbye to the stylish hairstyle that took you hours to achieve. Goodbye to the makeup you put so much effort into doing.
Striding along the sidewalk, you made sure to step on each water puddle you found along the way as you recalled every moment in the past months you felt Spencer away from you. And not only physically as when he was in a case. It was more than that. It was each morning he didn’t say I love you before leaving your shared apartment. It was each text he didn’t send telling you he was coming home or leaving for a case. It was each coffee you didn't share in the morning. It was each animated chat in the middle of the night you didn't have.
Were you being dramatic? You knew Spencer’s tendency to distract and engage in whatever his job could present him. In any other circumstances, you could have understood. Not tonight, though. Not when it was supposed to be your night together celebrating this milestone. The two years of love you thought were strengthening your relationship. How blind you have been. How naive.
You kept wandering on the streets with no destination. You didn’t want to come back to the apartment. You didn’t know where else to go either. So you kept walking.
-
Spencer Reid is a man with an eidetic memory. Everybody knows that. He can remember every piece of information people usually wouldn’t recall. He knows almost everything about anything. But even with his big brain, he sometimes has trouble keeping track of his own life. Like today.
Engrossed in a pile of manila folders from old cases, he lost time. A task meant to take just an hour or so kept him occupied and entertained for almost four hours. Emily’s voice was the only thing that brought him back from those files to reality.
“You still here?” Emily asked with a frown. Spencer looked at her oddly.
“Yeah. I was looking for patterns in our last cases in the northwest. What Tara said about the mixed murder weapons sounded familiar to me,” he explained before rubbing his eyes. He didn't notice how tired he felt until Emily interrupted him.
“Spencer, it’s almost 10 pm. And there is no active case. You can resume this tomorrow. I even thought you had plans today?”
‘10 pm’ and ‘plans today’ was enough to bring Spencer to realization.
“Fuck!” He yelped, jumping from his seat and freezing immediately, not knowing what to do.
“What?” Emily asked, seeing the panic in Spencer’s eyes.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he repeated over and over as he reached for his phone in his satchel.
“What is it, Reid?”
“Emily. I was supposed to be in a restaurant with (Y/N) tonight! It’s - uh - it’s our second anniversary,” he, visibly embarrassed, finished the sentence.
Emily shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Reid? How on earth do you forget something like that?”
“I don’t know! I - I don’t really know. Fuck. I’m an asshole!” He checked the phone: twenty missing calls. Why he left it on mute?
“Stop complaining and do something! Come on! Move your ass out of here if you want a chance of not being precisely kicked in the ass by her,” Emily instructed. She knew Spencer needed directions when he was freaking out.
Spencer rechecked his watch. It read 10:05 pm.
Swearing under his breath, he dialed your number, which went straight to voicemail. Putting his coat on, he tried again while rushing to the elevator. Maybe you were still at the restaurant? Getting in the first cab he found, Spencer headed there.
Once he arrived, he asked the hostess about you. The girl told him you left after 9 pm.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He called you again with no success. This time you turned off your phone. Spencer’s stomach was a knot, and his heart hurt imagining you sitting alone, waiting for him.
Were you at home? Spencer guessed you wouldn't want to see him, so it was less probable. Should he go there anyway and wait for you? No. You deserved better than that. He would look for you even if it could take all night. Taking a cab, he decided to check the apartment - just in case - and grab his car keys.
As expected, you weren’t in the apartment. Spencer faced the darkness and coldness of the place, and a chill ran down his spine—the fear of losing you forever.
In the car, he thought, where you could be. It was still raining, and Spencer feared you were getting soaked and frozen, God knows where.
It was at this kind of moment Spencer wanted his eidetic memory, and all the knowledge in his brain could help to compensate for the dose of common sense he lacked.
‘Come on, Spencer. Think. For once in your life, do it for what is really important for you.’
-
Spencer parked and rushed out of the car, hoping his hunch was correct. He was in a park. Not any park, though. It was where he met you three years ago—where his life changed forever and for the better for once.
You were in a swing, moving softly back and forth, your feet touching the ground. Your eyes focused on the rain collecting in the nook you created with your feet in the mud.
“(Y/N)!” Spencer called once he spotted you. The rain muffled the sound of his voice.
Your eyes didn’t leave the ground. At first, you thought you were imagining things. It could have been wishful thinking that your boyfriend really cared about you. He called again, and now your brain obliged your eyes to look toward the voice’s source.
Spencer was in a corner where the park's playground began. He was looking at you and wanted to run to you, but the fear you could run away made him stay there, as the rain dampened him.
The sight of you broke him. You were utterly soaked. Your coat and lovely black dress were ruined, and your face with traces of smeared makeup. He could even spot your bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying.
He caused that. And Spencer hated himself for it.
Seeing you didn't say anything, barely acknowledging his presence, Spencer dared to take some steps forward. Your numb body didn't even flinch.
“(Y/N). I’m sorry,” were his first words. Expectable but useless for you. “I fucked it up. I’m sorry. I should have been there. I wanted to be there with you,” he apologized, giving a few steps closer to you. Not looking at him, you mumbled.
“But you weren’t. And if you really wanted to have been there, you would have.” Your voice was low and husky. You sounded tired and defeated. It was worse for Spencer. For him, you should be yelling. Telling him how hurting you were. How an asshole he was.
“Baby, there is no excuse for what I did. The last thing I want in my life is to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Spencer’s voice broke with each word.
What had he done? Why? How can he be so stupid? He loves you. You’re the most important person in his life, so why did he do that to you? How can he fix it?
Still not looking at him, you spoke again.
“I can’t understand, Spencer. It was our anniversary. You were the one who suggested doing it,” you remind him. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. It didn’t matter the mud, and it didn’t matter the rain still falling. Spencer needed to look at your eyes to explain himself.
“I’m an idiot. I lost track of time and forgot,” he mumbled. You held up your head and finally looked at him.
“You forgot? So it's true I’m not that important to you,” you concluded sadly. Spencer’s eyes widened.
“No! Don’t say that!” he pleaded.
“Am I wrong? I don’t think so.” Your chin wobbled, but you needed to say it. “I know your job is important, Spencer. I do. And I never wanted to compete with that because I thought I didn’t have to. But after these past months, I think I need to get used to the idea I lost you already,” you acknowledged with a pained sob betraying you. It was the pang of the meaning behind your own words.
The memories of the past months flashed before Spencer's eyes. And there he saw it. The kisses he didn't give you, the 'I love you' he didn't tell you. The nights he didn't sleep by your side—all the things he has been missing.
He realized that although he never doubted his love for you, he stopped nurturing it and took it for granted.
Crying, he took your hands, and by divine grace, you didn't push him away.
No words he could say would be enough to convey how sorry he was. But he needed to try because he didn’t want to lose you. You needed to know he loved you and that you owned his heart. You needed to know he just realized he made a mistake, and he wants to fix it.
“The first time I saw you in this very place, you were slowly swaying in this exact spot with your eyes focused on the book in your hands. I was so mesmerized that I never thought I would get the nerve to talk to you, you know? But I did. And when I saw the warm look you gave me when I asked you if you had read the author's biography, I felt my heart warming as never before. And when I heard your laugh after I clumsily tried to flirt with you? I swear it was the sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life,” Spencer confessed, eyes sparkling at the memory. You fondly recalled it too. You never liked to talk with strangers all of a sudden, but with Spencer? It felt natural and right.
“You let me in in your life. You opened your heart to me and taught me how to do that too. You realized I’m not the best student in those matters, though,” he chuckled, seeing your nod.
“Despite that, you believed in me. You gave me a chance to love you, and I swear loving you has been the most natural thing that has ever happened to me. You have made me so happy (Y/N). You have no idea. And that is the problem. I have not known how to love you the way you deserve. I hadn't realized what I was doing. I'm sorry. I spent much of my life fending alone, not walking with anyone by my side. And I know that does not excuse my behavior. Even so, I dare to ask for an opportunity to prove you do not have to compete with my job. Give me a chance to prove to you I can be better. I can be the man who deserves your love. Please let me gain back your love and the privilege to hear you laugh again."
Spencer was almost out of breath when he was done speaking. You mulled in his words as his hands enveloped yours, patiently awaiting your response. Would you give him a chance?
As the rain continued pouring down, your eyes focused on him, still kneeling before you with hopeful eyes.
You know he loves you. Even if he needs to be better at proving it to you. And you love him even if you feel hurt for what he did. You both would have to work to make it work. You both deserved the chance, though.
The answer to his question was clear then.
You hopped off the swing and kneeled, not releasing his hands grasp and pulling him to catch his lips with yours. He kissed you back with everything he had. When both parted, you smiled at him, and Spencer was trying to figure out what that meant. You spoke to make it clear.
“Please, just don't make me regret being in this same place three years ago.”
Spencer earnestly shook his head.
“I won’t. I promise,” he told you before kissing you again under the rain.
------------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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captain-mj · 4 months
Note
God I need a fic where Simon makes one of those offhand trauma comments before Johnny and gaz got used to them and they are just horrified
I was hoping I would get this ask! Obvious CW for talks of trauma, Ghost is nonchalant but others are horrified
Ghost sat down at one of the tables next to Soap and Gaz. He wasn't interested in eating at the moment, but if he sat in his room for another minute, he was pretty sure the walls would start talking to him. So he was in here instead.
Soap and Gaz waved at him and continued to talk. They usually did this and Ghost could just jump in whenever he felt like it. So far, he didn't find himself in a talkative mood so he just listened.
The current topic was their plans for the upcoming weekend. It wasn't technically a weekend, just three days they all had off due to two missions being scheduled a little further apart than expected. They planned to go down to the tracks for some reason to watch dogs race. Neither gambled to Ghost's knowledge and just watching them race seemed a little boring for such a convenient weekend time, but if that's what they wanted to do he supposed.
"You wanna join us Lt?" Soap smiled. "Maybe you can put some money down?"
"Last time someone around me gambled, I was gangraped. No thanks." Ghost flicked his eyes elsewhere to scan the room. He heard the clattering of silverware and turned towards them again. "Yes?"
Gaz looked... angry? "Lieutenant. It's really not right to joke about rape like that. Rape jokes are for victims and-"
"Who said I was joking?" Ghost stared at him. "And I believe if victims can joke about it, that means I'm allowed to."
Soap covered his mouth. "Oh, Simon I'm so sorry that's so terrible. I'm happy you were able to talk to us about it but..." He kept talking but Ghost just tuned him out.
"Ugh." Ghost eventually broke his silence to interrupt Soap and then leave. "Don't be such babies about it."
Gaz and Soap looked at each other and then tried to follow behind Ghost.
"Hold up. You can't just joke about that and then leave!"
"Just did. It wasn't hard."
Gaz quickly tapped Ghost's arm. "Sorry for assuming you were being insensitive."
Ghost shrugged, not really caring. "I'm a big guy. At least you guys believe me. Most people don't."
He wasn't sure what he said wrong but that seemed to make them more upset. “I thought you guys would appreciate that? Jesus.”
Soap looked so upset on Ghost’s behalf. “But that’s awful! You deserve support!”
Ghost stared at him, thinking about how he sometimes had panic attacks and could barely handle women touching him anymore. He had dealt with people hugging him, touching his back, trying so hard bring him back from that dark place. “Nah. Im good. Get fucked.”
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joonipertree · 5 months
Note
idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3
Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic
Part 1, Part 2
Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki
Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.
So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.
"You're shit at lying."
"Fuck off."
Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.
Fuck.
His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.
"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"
You said nothing.
"Give me an answer, doll."
"I'm an adult."
"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."
Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.
He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.
Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.
Oh.
A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.
Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.
Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.
When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.
You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.
And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.
"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."
You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.
"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.
"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."
Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.
"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."
You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.
When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.
"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."
"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."
You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.
"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.
It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."
You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.
Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.
The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.
With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'
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yaesnovels · 1 year
Text
. THE KAVEH WAY !
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synopsis: after being married for quite some time, you and alhaitham decide to expand your family and try for a baby – unfortunately, things don’t work out as you imagine for a bit. after a short chat with kaveh, alhaitham decides to try switching up things a little and try the kaveh way while trying to get you pregnant – letting loose completely and making you feel absolutely loved and cherished. 
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cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used but only in the beginning; mentions of pregnancy, trying for a baby, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), pet names (god there’s so many; baby, babe, sweetheart, good girl, my queen, honey, princess), slight degradation (he calls you his pretty slut once or twice lol), aftercare
minors, please do not interact. i‘m okay with likes because i don‘t go through those but do not interact with my blog via reblogs or comments.
wc; 2.6k
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alhaitham was rolling his eyes when he heard kaveh’s laugh, the blond architect acting to be wiping tears off his cheeks. “so, you’re actually telling me that you were completely relying on logic with this whole thing?” 
“yeah, so? what’s so wrong about it?”, alhaitham argued back, it simply just made so much more sense for him to get real with facts and logic about your mutual decision to try for a baby, after being married for quite some time and being absolutely ready and sure about it. “it doesn’t really make sense to try when she isn’t even able to get pregnant, so what’s the problem here?”
“alhaitham, you’re such an idiot, oh god”, kaveh laughed. “so, you guys have only been having regular fucks whenever she was ovulating and didn’t even pay attention on how you were feeling at all? of course things wouldn’t work out like that!”
that made the scribe think – no, neither of you had really considered that your emotions and the intimacy throughout the process of trying. the more kaveh spoke on what to pay attention to, alhaitham was absolutely sure on what to do – well, luckily, you were ovulating anyway. he couldn’t totally let go of relying on logic with this.
he might as well make things up to you for not paying attention to you as much as he should have as your husband. and he might as well try the kaveh way of things to get your mutual dream come true. 
– 
the moment you were back home, alhaitham pulled you inside the house, close to himself and lifting up your chin as he kissed you. he kissed you, oh, so softly, he hadn’t been this gentle with you in such a long time. 
you knew that he had been absolutely busy with the akademiya falling apart so he was insanely stressed out with the sudden workload. so, the whole baby making thing you were both excited about had been a complete disappointment so far – he probably didn’t even realize how much the stress affected his mood and you didn’t really want to talk to him about it either. 
he was going to realize it sooner or later and it appeared that just now, he did realize it. “i’m so sorry for neglecting you recently”, he mumbled, burying his face against your neck. “i’ve been a terrible husband, haven’t i?”
“well, i wouldn’t say terrible because either way, i love you, but yeah, the last couple of weeks were somewhat lonely for me”, you replied, voice soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying your best not to sound too sad about the whole situation. 
“i love you”, alhaitham said, planting yet another kiss on your lips before he pulled you inside to the kitchen where you were met with an already prepared, candlelit dinner that had you look at him with so much love in your eyes. 
“this all looks so great, thank you, my love”, you smiled, sitting down, as you immediately dived in, groaning at how good it all tasted. “this is amazing.” 
“of course, love. you deserve all the best.”
– 
after dinner, he pulled out some wine as he put on some of the sensual music he got from kaveh (which he only accepted reluctantly, after deciding it was time to pamper you since he didn’t get to do that for so long now). 
“going all out tonight, aren’t you?”, you teased, “well, it wouldn’t be fair if i were to let you do everything right?” 
you finally returned from the bedroom you had buried yourself in after dinner, wearing one of the sets of dark red lingerie your friends had jokingly gifted you for your wedding. alhaitham gulped at the sight, you were looking so gorgeous in that soft silk, it was so hard for him not to pull you on his lap and rip that fabric off. 
you grabbed the glass of wine alhaitham had already poured as you sat on the couch next to him, drinking a sip to calm your nerves – it had been so long since alhaitham truly paid attention to you, which you didn’t blame him for. it just simply affected how easily shy you got around him; something you had gotten over with after a while of being with him. 
“you’re so beautiful, baby”, he mumbled, “i missed you so much the last couple of weeks. everything was just so stressful, i’m sorry for not paying attention to you more.” 
“it’s alright”, you replied, placing the glass on the table, pulling him on top of you, giggling as you noticed how taken aback he was about that. you had your legs wrapped around his hips, laying down on the couch before you kissed him. you only realized in that moment how much you had missed your gentle and doting husband. 
though, the only thing you did not realize was that this piece of lingerie that didn’t really cover anything of your skin and beautiful body was letting out the pussydrunk beast he tried so hard to push away from coming out. 
he deepened the kiss, one hand softly lingering over your legs, as the other one was pulling down the fabric to reveal your nipples which he just started to play around with, pinching, sucking, biting on them, having you writhe around. the more he went down on you, he noticed the beautiful scent coming from your body, he assumed a perfume that had an undertone of some sort of aphrodisiac because it made him go so feral out of nowhere, pulling off the panties covered by the short dress. 
“you’re so gorgeous, baby”, he mumbled against your thighs, and leaving a soft kiss on your clit. “i can’t wait to pamper you like you deserve, my queen.” 
alhaitham didn’t care how messy he was when he was fucking you with his tongue, thumb circling your clit and he was holding your thighs apart with his tight grip, already so pussydrunk with your taste and he was unsure if he would be able to stop. 
“feels good, honey? i can tell by your cute noises, baby, oh you sound so good. it’s been so long since i last got to taste you, hasn’t it? i missed the way you taste and the way you pull my hair when you get so needy, baby”, he talked you through your first orgasm of the night, you were shaking and your eyes had gotten all teary. 
“alhaitham”, you whimpered out his name, body relaxing as you calmed down. “please.”
“please, what, lovely?”, he questioned, teasing you with a soft giggle. “just kidding, honey. let’s move to our bedroom, shall we?”  
he had you thrown over his shoulder, having you laugh as he tickled you and then put you down on the bed, before he laid down on top of you, caressing your cheek. “i keep on repeating this but archons, i’m so in love with you, baby”, he whispered, “i can’t imagine spending my life without you anymore.” 
“i love you, too”, you replied, kissing him so passionately when you were turning you both around, sitting down on your husband’s lap as you pulled the silk over your body, all naked on top of him and you couldn’t help the heat rushing up your cheeks as you realized that alhaitham was still in his clothes. 
“not fair”, you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, before he sat up to pull the fabric off his body. you leaned down to press soft kisses over his skin, down to his abs, still so mesmerized by how toned his body was despite being a researcher and mostly sitting in his office doing paperwork. 
“you know what’s not fair, love? the fact that you try to pamper me when tonight was supposed to be all about you. and since i know you love me being rough”, he interrupted himself as he pushed you back down on the bed, keeping your wrists pinned against the soft mattress, “i will just use you until i fuck a baby into you.” 
you rolled your eyes back as he spoke, the thought of you finally getting pregnant after trying for so long had you whine in need; you just wanted him to fill you up over and over until you couldn’t take anything anymore. 
alhaitham pulled his pants down and threw them off the bed, grabbing your hips to lift you up and thrust deep inside of you, having you cry out as you pulled him closer to you. “please, fuck me”, you whimpered, the needy gaze you had in your eyes were simply making him go feral on you, rough and hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin had you so weak in the knees. 
“archons, you feel so good around me, honey”, he groaned, keeping up his relentless pace as you buried your nails into his back. “go on, babe, leave your marks on my back. go crazy, i don’t mind. i love the sweet pain you make me feel. beg for me to make you come and cream on my cock. beg for me to come deep inside you, to get you pregnant with my baby. you want that so bad don’t you, baby? you want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 
“please, i need it so bad. wanna make you- make you a daddy”, you babbled, your brain no longer properly functioning as the attention he gave you and your pleasure was making you feel dizzy, tears rolling down your eyes. 
“oh, honey, you will. don’t worry, you definitely will. even if it doesn’t work out this time, i promise you, i won’t give it a break until we make our dream come true”, he calmed you down, slowing down with his thrusts to give you his full attention again. “shh, baby, don’t cry, love.” his voice was so soft and he stopped his movements for a moment, pulling out as he realized you were actually crying and those weren’t tears coming solely from pleasure. 
“need me to stop?”, he asked then, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. you shook your head no. “shh, what happened, love?”
“the thought… of not being able to get pregnant and giving you what you want”, you mumbled, “you wouldn’t leave me if i weren’t able to get–”
“hey, hey, no. stop right there, love. there is nothing in this world that could make me love you less, especially just because this didn’t work out. i would never leave you for something as simple as this. i love you too much to do something like that. i’d rather get old with you alone instead of leaving you because i couldn’t get you pregnant.”
he left soft kisses on your face, making you giggle while your sobs stopped and you calmed down again. “archons, that must’ve ruined the mood now”, you mumbled. 
“what are you talking about, babe?”, he smirked, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “i recall promising you to pamper you like you deserve, didn’t i? and believe me, i intend to keep that promise.” 
he was manhandling you like it was no struggle for him at all – lifting your legs to get you into a mating press, your hips up as you were laying on you stomach as he fucked you from behind. alhaitham was not hesitant to let you know who‘s in control in this situation, having you at his complete mercy as he made you gush around him over and over again. 
“oh, you feel so good, princess. take it like the good girl you are, sweetheart”, he moaned, “mhm, good job, honey. you‘re doing so amazing for me, taking your husband‘s cock like the good and pretty little slut you are. you’re my good little slut, aren‘t you, baby?” he chuckled as you nodded in agreement, brain totally empty from all sort of thoughts. 
“good girl”, he groaned, intertwining your hands as he leaned down to kiss you on your soft, yet somewhat swollen lips from all the kissing sessions you had in your breaks. “oh, archons, i’m so obsessed with kissing you, honey.” 
you were pretty much unable to reply at this point – brain totally clouded from how good and exhausted you were feeling. 
“look at how much you’re coming for me, honey. look how much of a mess we made here”, he mumbled against your neck, watching how his cum leak out your cunt, before he scooped up some of it with his fingers and pushed them inside of you. you had lost all track of time and you were sure it had been a couple of hours since he had started ravaging you.
“sensitive”, you whimpered out, brain unable to process anything else. it had been a bit since all power had left your body and you were just laying there, taking it like his good girl he loved to praise you as. 
“oh, love, did you think i was done? that’s cute”, alhaitham giggled before he thrusted his cock back inside, “i’m not going to stop.”
your eyes widened, the overstimulation had you look at him somewhat in fear of what to expect. you couldn’t remember the last time he had made you shake so intensely, make you come over and over until you were nothing but his good girl, his good little slut, clenching around him so tightly as he had you at his mercy. 
“what is it, sweetheart? am i scaring you, baby? good. you’re all mine. you deserve such a good fuck for being such a good girl for me, lovely.” he let our a groan as he - once again - buried his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls white. “come for me, baby, just take it all and come for me.” 
the moment you gushed around his cock, crying out his name and sobbing in pleasure, he just watched you unfold, losing all control of yourself as you submitted to the way he made you feel so good. 
“you took my cock so good, honey. i’m so proud of you”, he mumbled, pulling out. “and if you this time did not work out, we‘ll try again. it‘s alright, sweetheart. it will happen eventually.”
he placed a hand on your tummy, thumb softly caressing the naked skin. “one day it will work out.”
“relax, sweetheart. i know this was a lot to take in, i don‘t really know what came over me tonight”, alhaitham calmed you down as he hugged you tight from behind as you both sank into the bath. “feel good honey?”
you nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed against him, your tense muscles turning into mush as he simply made you feel so giggly and happy. “i have a good feeling about tonight, y‘know? i feel like this time it will have worked out”, you said. 
“we‘ll see, honey. and even if not, it‘s perfectly fine”, he whispered, making you shiver at how deep his voice was. it was a reminder of all the promises he made; how they were always kept and came true eventually. and you knew that this one, no matter how long it’ll take, wouldn’t be broken either. 
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a/n: inspired by jake and amy from b99 trying to get pregnant. i have no idea what came over me with this one. it just happened.
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