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#and if youre not doing your job then why are you here
euthymiya · 2 days
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the delicate line between friends and lovers ft. alhaitham — in which the akademiya’s scribe and the bimarstan’s head nurse develop some serious feelings for each other in between hook ups. evidently, neither of them are very good at being able to communicate these feelings, though.
contains: 14.0k word count ; female reader ; explicit content—not suitable for minors ; fwb to lovers ; mutual pining ; banter and teasing ; angst with happy ending (this one goes out to all the girls who wonder if their fav would choose them: they would!) ; reader is the (very overworked) head nurse at the bimarstan ; mentions of blood and injuries (alhaitham) ; reader has insecurities ; jealousy ; dry humping—and kaveh being a major cockblock unfortunately ; alcohol drinking—4ggravate (minus alhaitham) appearance! ; clothed sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; no prep ; creampie
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the akademiya is well connected in its networks. meaning one thing: gossip travels fast. against his will, alhaitham learns far more about people than he wants to, details upon details that travel even through his soundproof earpieces at times. 
today, for example, he learns without meaning to that the akademiya has decreased the previously approved funding for the bimarstan. this piece of information is able to irritate him enough that he almost itches to demand for the title of acting grand sage once more. sumeru, a nation of free healthcare, couldn’t possibly hope to underfund one of the pillars of the citizens and their well-being. not unless someone who’s as incapable and underdeveloped in critical thinking as the last grand sage himself (before alhaitham, of course) was in office. 
he walks to the bimarstan, footsteps heavy in the dead quiet of the night as he trudges through the door of the hospital. you’re already there to greet him, eyeing the way the arm under his cloak is tense and curled under the fabric. 
“another eremite attack?” you murmur, walking towards an empty room as you gaze at him over your shoulder to follow.
he does so wordlessly, eyeing the tired, overworked, and disarrayed nurses along the hospital as he walks past them. 
you’re no different, he studies, watching as you stifle a yawn, taking in the darkened circles under your eyes as he sits on an examination table while you bring out the necessary supplies to clean his wound. 
the akademiya—no, sumeru was blooming under his lead. that much he was aware of. you’d said it yourself, too, the first time he came. 
oh, it’s you! we’re most grateful for your changes, acting grand sage, you’d smiled at him, they’ve really helped improve things here at the bimarstan.
he wasn’t expecting that. the only reason why he’d stopped at the hospital for care instead of going home was because he’d run out of bandages, nothing more. one look at you had all but changed that, the tilt of your lips as they smile spinning his world on its axis in a completely new direction. you tend to his cuts that night, and even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, he returns after the next expedition. 
and the next. and the next. and then it becomes routine. 
for a while, alhaitham told himself he only came to the hospital for his wounds instead of patching himself up after long expeditions in the desert because it was nice to see how the bimarstan ran. it’s important for him to be aware of necessary changes that must be made as acting grand sage—however temporary the job may be, he has every intention of doing it properly. so he studies and assesses the functionality of the hospital and makes decisions accordingly. those things can only happen if he visits frequently. 
but then he starts to notice that his feet truly only carry him here on the nights you work. though you work often and late into the night, too. being head nurse requires as much, of course, but he notices all too quickly that he’s begun to memorize your schedule. 
slowly but surely, he resigns himself to fate. he comes for you. 
“it’s just a light graze,” he mumbles after some time, revealing the small gash on his arm under his cloak. your eyebrows crinkle in concern for a moment before you set off to work, methodically and expertly cleaning away at the dried blood and disinfecting the wound. 
he doesn’t talk for a while before he finally says, “you’re short-staffed.”
it’s a question presented as an observation—he has a habit of doing that, of speaking his mind and waiting for an explanation to follow. 
you sigh, bandaging his arm as you murmur, “people are quitting. it’s been hectic in here—and the funding cut doesn’t exactly allow for a pay that seems worth the grueling hours.”
you love your job. it’s the first thing alhaitham knows about you. you take it very seriously, scolding anyone, even the acting grand sage, about proper care and healthy habits. 
did you stitch these yourself? you’d gasped when you first noticed the scars on his chest, that’s dangerous! do you know the infections you could contract from an improperly tended wound?”
it’s not as amusing now to watch the other nurses listen awkwardly as you scold him. he’s back to being the scribe, no longer tied to the title of sage. the nurses aren’t as alarmed anymore by your lack of formality—although, he’s sure by now, they’re a bit used to it too. 
“and i assume you’re not resting properly?” he gives you a knowing look, reaching forward with his free hand and brushing a callused but gentle thumb under your bruised eyebags. 
you close your eyes at the fleeting touch, humming before giving him a guilty smile. 
“i can’t let things get out of hand here.”
“you should take your own advice,” he snorts, “what was it again? something about proper rest and sleep to ensure a healthy lifestyle?”
“if you’re here to throw my words back in my face, i recall also mentioning getting into less trouble,” you huff, momentarily glaring at his arm before meeting his eyes. “what happened to being more careful?”
“like i said,” he shrugs, hissing slightly when you press on his wound to prove your point, “it’s just a graze.”
you and alhaitham are, no doubt, an unexpected match—if you can call yourselves that, even. it’s a complicated relationship you share, you and the former grand sage turned scribe. 
you patch him up late at night one day, and he so chivalrously accompanies you on your walk home after your shift. that’s all it was supposed to be…but, well, things are never as simple as sticking to the original plan. 
you invite him in for drinks, he accepts, you clumsily trip on your rug, he catches you swiftly, and somehow, in the mix, both of your lips end up meeting in the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with someone. clothes are easy enough to shed, and stumbling to your bedroom is hardly complicated, and in a far from ideal turn of events, you sleep with the akademiya’s scribe. 
multiple times, in fact. 
by now, his visits to the bimarstan to see you are as frequent as your visits to his house to see him. the only difference is that his visits tend to be for medical reasons, and yours are…personal to say the least. it’s, of course, as these arrangements tend to go, one that’s strictly physical. 
being physically involved with a patient is scandalous enough, but romantic involvement would be nothing short of unethical. and he’s not a very romantically inclined individual anyway, so not toeing the line of something more is easy enough for the both of you. 
still, you’re quite fond of him—he’s funny when he wants to be and a gentleman underneath the blunt responses and straightforward remarks. you like to consider him as a good friend. one who knows your body a bit too well than most friends should, but a good friend nonetheless. 
you look at him unimpressed as you finish tending to his wound, scoffing and rolling your eyes as you point out, “you’d call it a graze even if your arm was dangling off the bone.”
that gets a chuckle out of him, his head tilting up as he looks at you. if you weren’t in a hospital with your work attire, this would feel oddly domestic: cleaning tenderly at his wounds as he looks at you softly. 
you and alhaitham never toe the line of something more, but you do take steps dangerously close sometimes. 
“when do you finish your shift?” he asks, voice a low rumble. 
“now,” you grin, giving him a mock glare as you add, “you have me working past the clock.”
“let me walk you home, then.” he’d do it anyway, regardless of whether or not you accept. still, you never turn him away. 
“how kind of you,” you say sarcastically—you know better than he does what he means, what he wants, and you can’t exactly say you don’t want it yourself. 
“i can be rather giving when i want,” he shrugs. 
“oh, yes,” you snort, “quite the giver.” the grin he sends you is nothing short of fond. 
the line blurs a little like it’s been drawn in the sand, grains carried away by the wind and leaving the faintest trace of the border you draw. somehow, even though you shouldn’t, you step closer to it, just at the edge. 
but it’s never enough to cross it. 
“am i?” he muses, “i’m glad you think so.”
“you know, most people would believe you talk too little. but i think you talk too much.”
his cloak falls back in place over his arm as he stands, lips curled in a rare smile—well, rare to anyone other than you, that is. he walks out, and you follow.
it almost feels like you're getting closer and closer to stumbling past the line against your will every day. 
——————————
alhaitham knows your home well. well enough that he knows to drop his cloak in the basket you keep for laundry so you can wash away the blood soaked into the fabric for him. 
is it normal to do the laundry of your fuck buddy? you’re not even sure. it’s not like you’d ask anyone, anyway. 
but it doesn’t matter—not when his lips find yours before you can think about it too much. it’s a slow kiss. he’s good with his mouth in more ways than one—good at kissing, good at pleasing, and he’s even good at talking. he’s a linguist, anyway, so it only makes sense. 
“eager,” you murmur in between kisses, nipping at his lips as he shivers. “did you miss me that badly in the desert?”
“of course,” he rasps, gently guiding you to fall back against your bed, his hand cupping the back of your head like you’re fragile as glass, “eremites don’t have as enticing of a touch as you do.”
“maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll be less rough with you,” you wiggle your brows, giggling.
he clicks his teeth, angling your jaw to trail kisses along the slant of it as his hands travel to your hips, gently rubbing the bare skin of your hips under your shirt. you hum appreciatively, closing your eyes and sighing at the soothing feeling of his warm palms seeping heat into your skin. your fingers thread into his hair, tangling into the locks for some sort of means to hold on and ground yourself. 
it’s like warm drizzles of syrup, his touch sinking into you as you absorb his sweetness. 
“and why would i need that when this is far better?”
every word alhaitham alhaitham says is punctuated with the warmth of his lips pressed into your skin. it’s almost soothing—he feels calming. it doesn’t feel heated, not the passionate kind that kindles something carnal in you. 
it feels warm, the soft and gentle kind that makes everything feel a bit lighter. a bit cozier. something more homely in this house of yours. 
“mhm,” you hum, your fingers slowly slipping from his hair as they fall to his shoulders, barely holding him in place as your eyes remain shut. it’s soothing, everything about him. enough that you don’t even realize you’re dozing off until he chuckles. 
“did i bore you into sleep?” he pecks your cheek. 
“no,” you tug your eyelids apart, giving him a sheepish grin, “sorry, you’re just warm.”
“oh yeah?” he grins, amused. he’s climbing off of you, much to your dismay, making a soft whine run past your lips as your hands chase him. 
he’s quick to replace the lack of him, though, planting himself beside you as he pulls you into his chest. 
cuddling isn’t new for the two of you. usually, it’s a post-coital activity, though—you start to think alhaitham is just as bad at drawing a clear line in the sand as you. he’s gentle as he pulls your covers over you, pressing one more kiss to your head before he sighs and relaxes. 
“i’m not tired,” you protest weakly. 
“no, you’re not,” he agrees to satisfy you, eyeing your drooping eyes knowingly. “i am, though. it’s been a long trip.”
“right,” you nod, humming. “weak.”
he rolls his eyes, though fondly—you barely make out the action through your half lidded eyes as you glance at him one last look before your eyes force themselves shut. he’s warm, smells like that spicy hint of harra fruit in his cologne, and feels painfully safe when he lets you curl into his strong arm as it wraps around you. 
normal people don’t cuddle when they’re just fucking like this—you and alhaitham are anything but normal. it’s a mutual sort of agreement, though. you allow the small domestic tendencies to slip past the line, only to let the shore wash it away from the sand. 
it never stays for long, this feeling of intimacy. real intimacy, the kind that’s far more personal than seeing each other nude and feeling each other at your rawest. the kind where you both fall asleep beside each other, tangled, safe, warm, trusted. 
but you’re just friends. you think. you can’t afford to be anything more—alhaitham isn’t the sort of man to grant you something like that. you’re sure of that. he’s kind, good natured, even. but there’s not one romantically inclined bone in his body—you’ve seen it yourself. 
he’s rejected one too many brave women with her heart on her sleeve. never cruelly, but always definitively. 
sleep doesn’t let you think about it all for too long. you resign yourself to a peaceful slumber beside him, breath slowly evening out as he rubs the small of your back. 
and, when morning comes and you awaken, you don’t think about it for too long then, either. because he’s gone. because, of course, he wouldn’t stay—not when this is physical and nothing more.
you’re not disappointed, you think. you’re aware of the nature of things. and he’s a gentleman, as always, leaving you a note on your bedside. 
i had to file some reports from my expedition. i believe i’ll be needing my cloak back. 
you chuckle, shaking your head. it’s an invitation—bring me my cloak, and we’ll finish what we started. 
it’s how things are with you and alhaitham. you do his laundry with yours, he walks you home and forces you to rest, and sometimes, you happen to partake in some debauchery in the process. there’s nothing wrong with it. 
and even if your toes dance along the edge of the line, they always drag along to draw it sharper in the sand. 
——————————
coming to alhaitham’s house seems like second nature these days. he comes to you at night, and you come to him in the afternoon of your day off—luck would have it that yours happens to coincide with his. you knock three times and he opens as soon as your knuckles pull away from the cool surface of his door. it’s like he expects you, maybe even waits for you. 
you step in and let the door close behind you, grinning when he steps closer and cages you against the tight corner that is his front entrance. 
“i brought over your cloak,” you hold up the cloth, gesturing for him to move so you can put it on him. he looks at you incredulously, like you’re out of your mind. 
“why would i put it on now?” he asks in confusion. 
you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow, “you always wear one?”
“and why would i dress when we’ll only be undressing in a short moment?” he quirks his own brow like it’s obvious—which, to be fair, alhaitham is not exactly wrong. but it doesn’t make you any less flustered when he says it. 
“you’re shameless,” you huff, looking away in embarrassment. he chuckles lowly, leaning down and trailing his nose along your collarbone, breathing in your perfume. 
“i think i’m more practical, is all,” he murmurs into your skin. you sigh, goosebumps traveling across your body at the fan of his breath against you. 
“if only people knew how unstiff the akademiya’s scribe can truly be,” you grin, finger tracing the sliver of skin showing from his chest window. “did you know i overheard a few patients discuss how bad you are at conversing?”
“i don’t get paid to partake in small talk,” he says, voice a low vibration as he shivers at your touch. “i have things to finish when i’m on the clock apart from socializing.”
“what, you’re that concerned when you have your lovely pay raise? i’m sure you could afford a few minutes,” you tease, making him roll his eyes. 
alhaitham certainly won’t admit it, but he finds a good amount of amusement from your quips—the small grin on his usually downturned lips tells you as much. 
“if you want me to spend my earnings on you, there are better ways to ask,” he shoots light-heartedly. 
“you’d accuse me of such shallow schemes?” you pout. “do you think me to be after your mora?”
his answer is instantaneous, coming in the form of a delicate kiss pressed to your lips as his hands grab your hips. your arms have a habit of their own, always wrapping around his neck before you can even comprehend the action, and just like always, you both end up a tangled pile of limbs that can’t even make it past the doorway, let alone the rest of the house. 
you like it this way, perhaps even love it. something about him being unable to wait the time it takes to walk to his room fills you up with a sense of glee. 
“being the scribe is a much simpler job than sage,” he mumbles between kisses, “there happens to be much more time for other things.”
“things like taking the head nurse against the door of your home?” 
“perhaps,” he smiles with a chuckle. 
who would’ve thought alhaitham could smile so painfully charming? just a few weeks ago, you had never seen him smile before at all, willing to bet that he’d never smiled a day after stepping into adulthood with that seriousness he holds so dearly. 
“i don’t have much time,” you hum in between kisses, fingers fiddling with the short hair at the nape of his neck. 
“we’ll make do, i’m sure,” he says through a breathy groan, already semi-hard as your thigh slots between his legs, rubbing against the forming tent in his pants. 
your head tilts up as his head buries into your neck, lips branding searing kisses into your skin. you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his, to be stamped with his affections one kiss at a time until no one else could hope to have you. your eyes flutter shut, sighing as he sucks attentively to your sweet spot. 
“don’t leave marks,” you scold, “i can’t show up to the bimarstan looking so scandalous.”
you’ve felt his lips against your skin enough times that you can tell them by heart. you don’t have to look to know they’re pouting against your neck—you can feel it against your skin. you giggle, cupping the back of his head as your fingers delicately thread through his hair. 
“i’m meant to hold back then?” he grumbles. it’s almost petulant, but he still softens the nipping against your skin, careful to leave no evidence of his existence against you, however disgruntled he might be. 
“don’t be so whiny,” you laugh. archons must have it out for you, though, because as soon as you say that, his hardened cock brushes against your crotch, making you whine at the friction. it’s something, but it’s hardly anything at all—the separation from the fabric makes everything not nearly enough. 
he seems to know it, too, because he pulls away, eyeing you with a certain gleam in his eyes that looks like a cross between smug and amused. 
“i’ll try,” he says smugly. you glare, but you’re cut off by the brush of his cock against that sensitive spot between your thighs once more, his hips grinding against you as you fall slack against the door. you can feel him rub against your clit, sending shockwaves along your spine as your back arches and you breathlessly moan his name. 
at first, he only does it to tease you, but after the first few rolls of his hips, it’s evident he can’t bring himself to stop. it’s not enough, not for either of you. the ache settling between your legs can’t be quelled with a few simple rolls of his hips with fabric separating you both from each other. but alhaitham’s sense of control seems to wash away with the tidal waves of pleasure, each thrust of his hips brushing his cock against your heat and leaving him panting into your shoulder. 
“m-more,” you plead, grabbing at his cape and fisting the material as you hold onto him tightly, “i need more—please.”
alhaitham, for all his composure and self-preservation, is simple to take apart when his throbbing cock is pressed against your cunt, rubbing against the length and building the pressure he so desperately needs. 
he doesn’t even seem to hear you, hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck as he buries his head and groans, hips sloppy and rough as they rut into you. you can feel the outline of his cock clearly even through his pants and yours, hot and undoubtedly hard. the bulge in his pants brushes against your clit through yours—and even if it’s nowhere close to feeling him inside of you, you can feel yourself just about to break. 
“sorry,” he gasps, “sorry—c-can’t stop. i-i’m c-close. so close.”
the last part comes out like a plead. it’s like he’s begging you to free him of this torment, like he needs you to make him fall over the edge because he can’t bring himself there. you think that might be the case, so you wrap your fingers around his hair and tug. 
he moans—maybe if you were feeling teasing, you’d call it a whine and watch his cheeks flush as he scowls. but there’s no chance for that. not when you’re both so close, so achingly close that you can just make out the twitch of his cock in his pants. 
and then the doorknob twists. 
a series of muffled curses can be heard through the other side of the door, and you both pause—rigid, tense, stiffly alert as your eyes widen. his head perks up from its place in your neck, staring at the doorknob in equal parts rage and equal parts confusion, like he blames it for cutting you both short of a much-needed, much-wanted orgasm. 
“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” you hear a voice groan exasperatedly through the door, “again?”
you’re completely lost. who could be trying to enter alhaitham’s house at this hour? 
the only hope you have for answers is, of course, alhaitham—one look at the recognition and irritation on his face, and you can piece together that it’s certainly no stranger. alhaitham, if his cold glare could freeze anything where it stands, could potentially risk turning sumeru into the next snezhnaya. his eyes are hardened, and his jaw is clenched as he breathes out a heavy sigh through his nose. 
“and you’re kidding me,” he mutters bitterly. “now?” 
“hey! i know you’re home! open this door and stop pretending like you can’t hear me,” the voice demands, tapping on the door with more conviction than the last time. 
you furrow your eyebrows and look at him expectantly; an explanation demanded through the crinkles of your forehead as you look at him in confusion. he pulls away, jaw still tight as he adjusts himself in his pants, trying his best to hide the still painful erection he sports. 
“my roommate,” he says quietly. deadly. 
you almost feel bad for the poor soul that must be waiting on the other side of the door, unaware of the pure wrath he must be about to face judging by the look on alhaitham’s face. 
you hear the voice again, “ugh! you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? you—”
“calm down,” alhaitham calls, unimpressed and unamused as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. he seems to hold it for a moment like he’s fighting the tension in his body, before he slumps and lets out another sigh. this time, it’s much more defeated as he gives you an apologetic look when his eyes open. 
you both adjust your appearances, erasing any trace of debauchery before you step aside and let him approach the door. 
the swing of the door opening is a rather aggressive one, and alhaitham stands taller and straighter than you’ve ever seen him, like he’s trying to tower over the figure that enters the house. 
you recognize him immediately. 
“oh!” you gasp in awe, “you’re that architect! the one who designed the palace of alcazarzaray!”
both men look equally as haunted by your statement. alhaitham’s eye all but twitches as he takes in the breathless admiration in your voice—you’re no doubt praising kaveh’s work. as for the latter…well, he looks like he might just about launch himself into the blade of an eremite willingly the first chance he gets. 
“wh-who are you?” kaveh demands, “and what are you doing here?”
“she’s obviously a guest of mine,” alhaitham shoots coolly, tone as condescending as ever. “have you lost all manners? that’s no way to greet a guest.”
“what did you say to me? i want to hear nothing of the sort from you—god knows your temper isn’t one to speak on my manners.” 
kaveh turns to you, taking one better look at you, squinting as he thinks for a moment before realization flashes across his features. he seems to recognize you—though most people in sumeru do know you quite well. the nurses at the bimarstan are limited, these days. 
“ah! you’re the head nurse from the bimarstan! you looked at my wrist,” he recalls. 
you smile, nodding as you gesture at his hand and ask kindly, “is it better now? i do hope it’s not as sore anymore. did you apply heat as i suggested? and i hope you’re taking ample rest in between sketches—architects are very prone to sore wrists as is, you know.”
alhaitham rolls his eyes at your lecture, grumbling, “as if he would follow anyone’s advice. he’s far too stubborn.”
“i’ll have you know that i followed her advice quite closely,” kaveh says pointedly. he turns to you, voice much softer as he smiles and adds, “and my wrist is much better, thank you.”
“of course,” you nod. and then you pause, staring between the two unsurely as you falter and ask, “but…i wasn’t aware you two were friends. alhaitham tells me you’re his roommate—he’s never mentioned you before today, though.”
they both glare at each other through the corners of their eyes. something tells you maybe friends was a bit of an exaggerated term. alhaitham makes no moves to speak, crossing his arms and staring expectantly at kaveh—the blonde scoffs, shaking his head with a scowl. 
“friends…is a generous word. we’re roommates,” he nods in confirmation, “i’ve…ran into some trouble for the time being, so i’m staying here for a bit. won’t be much long, however. i need a space less…suffocating.”
“and how well is that plan faring for you?” alhaitham’s words seem to poke at kaveh, riling the blonde up further as you watch the scene before you awkwardly. 
“you—” but before kaveh can finish whatever retaliation was on the cusp of his tongue, he pauses. it’s like all at once, the situation hits him before he’s staring between the two of you, instead. “hang on a moment. how do the both of you know each other? i didn’t know alhaitham was acquainted enough with the head nurse for her to pay a visit.”
“well,” you start, trailing off as you cough lightly, tensing as the question throws you off guard. “umm…alhaitham visits the bimarstan sometimes after his trips to the desert. so…”
so what? how would that explain your visit to his home? it’s not as though you become friendly with all your patients and drop them a visit—in fact, alhaitham is the only one you’ve ever done that for. and of course, it’s not just a visit that you’re doing here. but kaveh doesn’t need to know that. 
that would be quite the scandal—getting so intimate with a regular patient. and apart from that, you and alhaitham aren’t exactly in an ideal situation. what would you tell kaveh? that you come over just to hook up? it’s not exactly a rare occurrence to have a beneficial relationship with someone like this, but still…admitting it like that is a bit too shameless for your liking. 
and then there’s a much more complicated, much less easy-to-tackle problem, too. you’re not even sure if you can confidently say you don’t have feelings for the scribe. that’s not something you were counting on, ever. saying you only partake in intimate activities with no strings attached might just hit you too hard in the gut, even if it’s not exactly a lie. but admitting the words out loud isn’t something you’re prepared to do. 
almost like he senses your turmoil, alhaitham steps in, bless his soul. he almost looks a bit conflicted, studying you carefully. you don’t have time to dwell on it, though, before he speaks. 
“so she came to check on a wound she patched up,” he finishes for you, quick and easy and confident enough in his words that it makes up for your nerves. he quicks a fleeting glance at you before raising an eyebrow to kaveh. “i left in a hurry and didn’t really let her properly tend to it last time. not that it’s your business, of course. i’m perfectly within my rights to bring guests over to my house.”
“be careful,” kaveh glowers, “anymore attitude, and you’ll risk showing your guests your true colors if you’re not cautious. you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on the same person who tends to your wounds, do you? that would be fatal.”
“you two are quite the duo,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “it seems alhaitham has finally met his match verbally. you truly don’t let him have the last say.”
alhaitham almost looks offended, looking at you in disbelief. “i am not outmatched by his—”
“if it’s not too much trouble,” kaveh laughs nervously, cutting alhaitham off with a sharp look, “could you keep this…uh arrangement of ours a secret? i don’t really want this getting around and such.”
“my lips are sealed,” you promise. kaveh perks up, relief sagging into his shoulders at that before he nods, giving you a friendly smile as he waves at you. 
“i’ll be off to finish a project, then. nice seeing you.”
as soon as he walks away and you’re certain the door to his room shuts, you let out a soft breath of relief. 
“that was close,” you whisper, “he could’ve figured it out.”
“right,” alhaitham says vaguely. he doesn’t say much else, arms still crossed as he stands there and looks at you—something about the way alhaitham stares at you is too uncomfortable for your liking. 
not because he looks at you weirdly or even inappropriately, but because it almost feels like he can pick apart every thought in your head just by his gaze alone. 
you shuffle on your feet before you give him a tight smile. 
“i should go—the patients are never-ending these days,” you chuckle nervously. 
“make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” he nods. 
you linger for a moment. you’re not sure why. it’s not as though you can expect him to give you a goodbye kiss—that would be preposterous. and far too wishful. 
so instead, you give him a small wave before turning towards the door—but he stops you before you can reach for the door handle, pulling you flush against him, your back to his chest. 
“will you come back tonight?” he whispers, voice low and husky as he presses his still-hard crotch against you. you shiver as he nips at your skin to get his point across. 
“what about kaveh?” you ask softly, biting your lip, unsure. the little voice in your head screams, who cares about kaveh?
“he’ll be dead asleep,” he snorts, “last night was the third all-nighter he pulled. there’s no chance he’ll make it past seven pm today.”
“you’re insatiable,” you tease, shaking your head as you snort. “do you know that?”
“i’ve never had a decline on your end,” he shoots back. 
“i have a shift later tonight,” you say apologetically, sighing as you think about the extra hours you’ll have to put in soon, “there aren’t enough people tonight without me.”
“you should really speak to someone about this funding cut,” he frowns, slumping against you, “it’s getting out of hand.” 
“no one listens.” your voice is so defeated, so uncharacteristically tired. you’re sure he notices it in a heartbeat—you notice it yourself. “but i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“sure,” is all he says. 
hesitantly, you pull away. his hands leave your hips reluctantly, too, like they’re most comfortable when they have you to house them. but neither of you say anything, simply nodding at each other as you look at him over your shoulder and exit through the door. 
the footsteps down his steps and away from his home are the heaviest ones you’ve taken all week. 
you decide you hate the sand. and that stupid line you both seem to have drawn.
——————————
it takes two failed attempts at fucking alhaitham to realize you’re not strictly only after the physical pleasure he brings. 
the first time, you weren’t even disappointed you didn’t get that far. it was only a disappointment that he was gone when you woke, and you realize it’s because the absence of him is why you’re even let down in the first place. the second time, you’re unhappy because you have to keep the nature of your relationship a secret—that’s a more complex problem. 
it’s secret because it has to be, because of how lewd it is by nature and how partially unprofessional it is. but you decide you also hate it to be a secret. no one knows that you see alhaitham bare and at his most vulnerable, and you can’t handle that anymore. especially when you watch a nurse flirt so poorly with him right before your eyes. 
“oh, it’s you, acting grand sage,” she giggles, “what can i do for you today?”
“i’ve actually returned to my previous position as scribe,” he corrects, entirely unaffected. 
“oh, is that so?” she gasps—you know it’s all for show. everyone is aware of his stepping down. “well, i, for one, think it’s a shame. you were so capable as a leader.”
alhaitham doesn’t like leading. for all he claims it’s because it’s too much trouble and far more work than he appreciates, you know that it’s also because the easiest way to never be swayed by power is to stay far away from it. he keeps himself grounded this way. he uses his smarts for only what’s necessary and only enough to quell his thirst for knowledge and never anything more. his principles are admirable.
and should the next grand sage also abuse such power like the last, he’ll step up from his humble position as scribe and fix the problem again—because that’s what he knows to do best. use his genius to solve issues as they arise, not control the situation entirely. 
of course, she wouldn’t know that. she doesn’t know anything about him. 
you fight back the roll of your eyes with the last shreds of self-preservation you have left. 
“the position wasn’t really for me,” he says plainly. “any idea where the head nurse might be? i have some business to discuss with her.”
it shouldn’t satisfy you as much as it does when she deflates at at his dismissal. but does—enough that you saunter up with a grin on your lips as you greet the two. 
“why hello. what business does the scribe have with little old me?” you hum. the nurse becomes background noise when your eyes meet his teal ones, staring at the small fleck of amber in his pupils while his piercing gaze rakes over your face as if to study you. 
you feel oddly seen under his stare—he’s seen you stripped and bare, at your most vulnerable under him. but somehow, you’ve never thought about it much in the moment like now. right now, he sees you with a clear mind, without the clouding haze of lust to fog his mind. right now, he can see you for every flaw and every imperfection, so up close. he can notice the way your fingers fiddle with themselves to calm your nerves. he can catch every nervous shuffle on your heels as you fight the urge to lean into him from the proximity. 
finally, you break out of your trance when the nurse clears her throat and mumbles, “i’ll uh..i’ll be off, then.”
he blinks at the same time as you, shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to the present as he clears his throat.
“can we speak somewhere more private?” he asks quietly. you don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. but you nod nonetheless, leading him to an empty room as he follows. 
it’s a long, painstakingly dreadful walk. your mind is filled with too many possible scenarios that it’s a miracle your brain is even functioning properly. it should short circuit. what if he wants to end your arrangement? what if he’s aware of your slowly shifting feelings (if you can even call them that)? what if he’s found someone he’s interested in? what if his roommate has pieced together something, and now he needs to come up with a cover? 
the possibilities are endless, and they plague your mind so heavily that your lip is chewed raw by the time you enter the room and shut it behind him as he follows you in. 
“you wanted to talk?” you ask hesitantly. 
he doesn’t say anything—the only thing he does is press a folded piece of paper in your hands as you stare at him, confused. 
“open it,” he insists.
so you do. and reading over it makes you pause as you glance up at him in disbelief. the bimarstan funding—more than doubled. 
“what?” you breathe, in absolute awe, “how…how is this possible?”
“i’ve pulled a few strings,” he says plainly, shrugging. as always, he brushes off his actions as though he hasn’t just changed your entire job for the better. “it’s a nice perk of being an ex-sage.”
“you’ve used corruption just to help me?” your words are a playful jab—but there’s still an underlying question that you really do mean to ask. why go to such lengths for me? 
“it’s hardly corruption,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. the dust of red over the tips of his ears is the only thing that gives away the slightly flustered part of him, “i had a few favors owed to me, and the conditions here play an important role to everyone in sumeru. it was a simple correction to their terrible decision-making skills.”
“oh, haitham,” you chuckle. this time, the nickname really does make him flush more obviously, his eyes darting away to look off to the side as he clears his throat again. 
“well, that’s all,” he says stiffly, “i have to go home and…and make dinner. kaveh is of no help.”
“sure,” you beam, looking at him knowingly. you pause for a moment, contemplating before you cave and add, “and thank you. really.”
“it’s really nothing to look into,” he says awkwardly, “hopefully, now you can work fewer hours.” 
“the other nurses will also really appreciate it,” you say softly, “i’ll be sure to let them know—they’ll really have the hots for you this time,” you snort, making an indirect reference to earlier. he shivers, like the thought leaves him unnerved. 
“that one nurse of yours hasn’t left me alone since i stepped up as grand sage for that short while,” he grumbles, making you snort at the troubled look on his face. it shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does to see him so disgusted by the affections of someone else, but you’re only human. “doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”
“oh c’mon, she’s sweet,” you tease. now that you know he’s uninterested, it’s fun to mess with him and get under his skin, giggling as you reach over and poke at his arm. 
“perhaps,” he shrugs, “but not very good at keeping her emotions in check. i’ve known her since my student days—i don’t think i could last one day with her lack of…composure.”
“what, you’re too above emotions?” you ask amused, “i would disagree. you’re a rather grumpy man, you know.”
“am i?” he fights back a grin, “i hardly noticed.”
“without your morning coffee, yes,” you quip. 
he laughs, shaking his head as he stares at you with something that looks oddly close to fondness in his eyes before he murmurs, “i do really need to make dinner. kaveh will truly whine my ear off if i don’t tonight.”
“have fun,” you pinch his cheek. he rolls his eyes, and with that, he nods to you and leaves, swiftly walking away and leaving you to yourself in the empty room with the slip of paper in your hands, a lovesick smile still on your face. 
you don’t even know where the line starts or where it ends anymore. all you know is that you’ve undoubtedly crossed it all on your own—and it might be the end of you, truly.
——————————
it takes one nice gesture from alhaitham to make you realize you’ve fallen hopelessly hard for him. before, every small action of intimacy was always just the two of you being friends, amicable and good-natured in between sex. 
now, you’re not sure you could spend a single minute next to him without wondering what it would feel like to do those things as a couple. 
sometimes, after sex, alhaitham likes to read. because it’s hard for him to sleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb you from your much-needed rest after a long day at the hospital. you don’t realize how reliant you’ve become on the sound of his pages flipping until you lay in bed alone, tossing and turning under your sheets as you try your hardest to sleep.
you can’t. not when all you think about is him. him, him, him. he’s all your mind drifts to nowadays. 
but you know alhaitham—better than a lot of people, in fact, seeing as you get to see parts of him that are otherwise… off-limits. being in a relationship is the last thing he wants, especially with you. otherwise, he’d have told you by now. you’re scared of a lot of things, scared to speak your mind, and tend to overthink too much for your own good. 
but alhaitham? he’s blunt and to the point. if he’d wanted something more with you, if the line had blurred and blurred for him until it risked being nonexistent like it did for you, he’d have said something. but he hasn’t—and neither can you. 
because you know as soon as you do, it’ll be over. the kind gestures, the gentle touches, the heated kisses, the nightly visits, all of it. gone with the wind as it blows the line in the sand away for good—not because he wants to cross it, but because it simply doesn’t need to exist anymore if he never speaks to you again. 
 alhaitham is not a romantically inclined guy. he’s good-looking enough that not just a handful of girls have tried their hand at confessing to him, and he’s always turned them down instantly. you’ve seen it, heard about it, know it to be true. and apart from that, are you both even that compatible?
sure, you get along great as is, but a relationship is much deeper than that. you’ve always appreciated how honest he was, how straightforward he put things. but relationships come with a lot more vulnerability and emotions than you’ve ever shown him. his bluntness will be too easy to mistake for casual cruelty when you’re in over your head. he’s quiet; he doesn’t appreciate too much interaction—would he even enjoy going on dates? what if you insisted on an evening out, and all he wanted to do was stay in and read? would he want to do all that stuff? everything you want seems like it would be something of a chore for him, something that makes him see you as a chore. 
he even said it himself the other day, calling that nurse too emotional for his liking. sure, it was an off-handed comment, but you’re one emotional day away from potentially being too much for him too. you couldn’t handle that. not when you like him so, so much. not when you want him so bad, you couldn’t handle him not wanting you just as badly. 
would he even want you that badly? logic tells you no—and logic is at the forefront of his mind at all times. your emotionally charged outlook on life would be a bleeding mess of color in his neutral, logically categorized approach. 
you’d be dooming yourself to loving a man who would hardly know what to do with your affections. 
so you do the only sound solution to this predicament of yours—you end things before he can do it himself. it’s inevitable, of course. whether it’s in a few weeks or months, eventually, alhaitham will grow bored of your casual fling. and he’ll end things, completely fine and normal while you fall apart at the seams. the best thing you can do for yourself is let things end on your own terms, and early on, too, before the feelings fester into something all too serious. 
it’s not as though you love him yet—things are still early on enough to make sense of them. 
or is it? some part of your mind asks viciously, are you sure you don’t love him? 
you push away the thought as quickly as it pops into your head. rolling your shoulders back, you straighten your posture, taking a deep breath before you knock on his door. 
he opens it instantly, smiling that small, ghost of a smile of his. you falter immediately. 
“hey,” he hums, swinging his door wider, “come in.”
“no, that’s okay,” you say stiffly, not meeting his eyes, “i…can’t today.”
“oh.” you hate that you can hear the frown in his voice and practically see the confused crinkle of his eyebrows. “did you want to talk about something, then?”
yes, you want to say. there’s a lot i want to talk about. 
there’s a lot you should talk about—and if you were keen on discussing this like an adult, you would lay it all out on the table. 
instead, you blurt out, “i think we should stop.”
he eyes you carefully, raising a questioning brow as he asks, “stop what?”
“this,” you point between the two of you, “whatever…whatever this is we’re doing.”
and just as you expected, his face is blank, so neutral and so hard to read you want to scream at him. yell at him for making you want him so bad when you can’t even tell if he’s even a fraction as crazy as you. does he want you? he certainly treats you well sometimes, but maybe that’s just because you get his dick wet and stitch up a few wounds here and there for him. does he actually even toss and turn and stay up thinking about you the way you think about him? 
the answer is probably no. you don’t even want to find out if you’re right or not. but he’s never made you believe he has, so you don’t entirely think you’re wrong in your assumptions. 
“and what are we doing?” he must be playing dumb, you think. 
“hooking up,” you hiss, “having sex. fucking. whatever you want to call it, alhaitham. we have to end it. now.”
“and what brought this on?” he crosses his arms. 
you want to ask him why he’s being so cruel, so intent on keeping you when you clearly can’t stay, when there are so many women who would throw themselves at him for a chance to get in bed with him if a physical partner is what he’s so hellbent on keeping. but you can’t be that for him any longer, not when your emotions are tired of being a jumbled mess that slowly but surely eat away at your decaying soul. 
“we…we’re just…it’s not—we just have to, okay? i don’t appreciate you treating me like i’m easy.”
“wha—when have i ever treated you as such?” he looks at you bewildered, getting defensive. 
“that’s not what i meant,” you pinch your nose, groaning as you try to process the words you want to say in your spinning head. everything is too much—the way he’s close, the way your body feels aflame from just standing near him, the way your eyes are involuntarily misting over. “this…this is just an easy arrangement, that’s all. for both of us. but i don’t want to be someone’s quick and easy hook-up for the sake of convenience. i need…i need something more from someone, so we should stop while we can so i can find myself that.”
there’s a minimal twitch of his jaw as he clenches and unclenches it, nodding slowly.
“you want something more, is that it?”
“w-well, yes—but that’s not what i entirely meant, so don’t read into it—”
“so how would ending this get you that, then?” he challenges. you hate that he makes you feel stupid, that he looks at you like you’re not thinking when that’s all you’ve been doing these last few…archons know how long. he’s plagued your mind for so much time you can’t even pinpoint for how long. 
“i want something more, but not from you,” you spit, slamming your hands to slap against your thighs in frustration, “that’s obviously why i’m ending it! must you always make everything difficult?”
he doesn’t speak, silently stunned a bit at your outburst. so you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down before you collect your thoughts better. 
“i just…i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to yell at you like this is your fault. i…i can’t say i can get into bed with you anymore without wanting us to actually mean something to each other, and i know that’s not what you want—”
“who said that’s not what i want?” he interrupts, looking at you with the first hints of emotions all day. there’s a small etch of frustration building in the twitch of his brows as he continues, “you’ve just decided for me how i feel, and that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”
“you’ve never said anything about how you feel,” you shoot back.
“well, neither have you, but that doesn’t mean—”
“i may not have said it, but you’re telling me you never noticed? i do your laundry for you, for crying out loud, alhaitham! and you’ve never so much as dropped a hint!”
“i see,” he nods slowly, going back to the blank slate that is his face. still so infuriatingly neutral and unbothered by it all that you can’t help but lose it a little. 
how can he be so unbothered? how can he be so calm and collected when you feel like you might need to check yourself into the bimarstan yourself from the stress of it all? you’ve spent weeks, months in each other’s beds. familiarized yourselves with every part of each other’s bodies. he knows about that birthmark no one else sees, and you trace that mole on his left pec every night before you sleep. you’ve slowly but surely been dying to cross the threshold of just friends (with a few perks, of course), and here he is, nodding along as you tell him you want him, want more of him.
and he’s got nothing to say. because, for some reason, after months of feeling you, spending nights and days tucked away against you, he doesn’t seem to feel the same, so he doesn’t have much to offer you. how can he be so unbothered by your presence after months with you? is it really that easy not to be affected by you? 
some part of you lets go of the hold on your control as you snap, “and this is why we can’t have anything more.”
“why’s that?” he tilts his head, voice an uncharacteristic edge to it, “enlighten me.”
“because…because…because you’re you!”
finally, a flash of hurt crosses his face, making itself home in his eyes and forehead as it crinkles at your words. he studies you, quiet. unnervingly quiet that you almost wonder if you’re just deaf.
“are you trying to say there’s something wrong with me?” he presses, looking so lost that you almost feel guilty. 
not as much as you feel like you’re about to cry, though.
“yes,” you say without thinking—and the way hurt settles into his eyes more makes you scramble to reword things so you don’t sound like a total jerk, “i mean no! i mean…i mean you’re just you, and you and i won’t mix.”
“we won’t mix,” he repeats, blinking. “interesting—”
you can’t stop yourself from going on the tangent now that you’ve begun, spilling your every thought one by one as you cut him off, “you’re so quiet, and it’s unnerving, you know? you never speak a single thought on your mind, you’d rather just read than talk about your day. and everything you say is so painfully to the point—would it kill you to soften the blow sometimes? people don’t always need the cold, hard truth, okay? sometimes, saying what someone wants to hear can make all the difference. and…and…i don’t know, okay? i need someone who can work with my emotions without applying logic to everything, and that’s not you so…so we have to end things because it’s not fair to either of us. i want it to actually mean something with someone when i’m with them, and you don’t want someone to taint everything with their fragile feelings, so we need to go our separate ways. okay?”
you’re practically panting when you’re done speaking, and alhaitham is just standing, thinking, processing everything you’ve said in that painfully complex head of his. 
finally, he breaks the silence and says, “i didn’t know so many things about me bothered you.”
“they didn’t,” you sigh, “not until recently. i guess…i guess it just hit me how difficult it would be to get along in a proper relationship.”
“you know that because what? you think it?”
“i know it because i’m actually looking at things realistically,” you say exasperatedly, “just because we had sex for a few months doesn’t automatically mean we’re a compatible pair.”
“we haven’t really gotten to know much outside of sex to decide that,” he shakes his head, “i’m not understanding how you can so easily dismiss these feelings by deciding it won’t work—”
“look, alhaitham,” you cut him off, voice so uncharacteristically small, he pauses to look at you in shock, “i’ve been slowly losing it for weeks, okay? the last thing i need is for you to make things difficult for me. you’re a good guy, and i really, really wish things were different, but i just need more than what you can give me without completely changing yourself. neither of us should have to compromise anything about ourselves for things to work.”
“you don’t know if i’d be willing to give you what you need or not,” he says quietly, “maybe i wouldn’t be changing a thing.”
“then what about that girl?” you scoff, “the one you said was too emotional for you to handle? you think i’m just being crazy? you said it yourself, so what else should i believe?”
“her? she’s different—”
“why? because she’s not me? because she doesn’t let you in her bed? you’ll find my emotions just as burdensome as hers one day, and then what? we fall back on sex to keep the spark alive?”
something about him is defeated. shoulders slumped, eyes dim, and arms uncrossing to lay limply at his sides. he takes a deep breath before nodding, looking at you so intensely you almost feel frozen in place. 
“okay,” he whispers, “if this is what you want. that’s fine.”
his door closes, and your first tear slips. 
——————————
nine days. that’s how long it’s been without alhaitham. your mind tells you this is for the best, but your heart is practically on its knees, begging you to reconsider. 
a part of you wonders if you were being unfair like he said, judging him before you could properly give him a chance. the other part of you thinks it’s important not to let attachment cloud your better judgment. alhaitham is a good man; there’s no doubt about it. 
but is he a man good for you? that part is a difficult question to answer. protecting your heart seems like the safest option. still, you can’t help but miss him horrifically often. it doesn’t hit you how badly you’ve fallen for him until you don’t see him anymore. no more late nights at your place, no more afternoons at his, and no more routine bimarstan visits. 
your life has at least gotten a bit easier, though—more funding means more people to hire, and more people to hire means fewer grueling hours for you. though, when you really think about it, you owe this small win to the exact man who’s been plaguing your thoughts. 
you intend to drink your woes away, but it seems even in the tavern, you can’t escape him—well, not exactly him, but his roommate. but kaveh still reminds you of alhaitham, so the cleared head you hoped for is out of the question for the night.
the thing about kaveh, though, is that he’s loud. painfully so, and especially when he’s drunk. you could hear him from the other end of teyvat, you think—it’s hard to ignore him even if you want to. 
“he’s been insufferable lately,” kaveh huffs, “worse than usual. that awful temper of his needs to really get a check because i’m not sure how much more i can take.”
you didn’t know kaveh was friends with the general mahamatra—seeing cyno loosened up with a deck of tcg cards was not on your list of expectations for the night, but you can’t help but listen in when he adds, “his last few reports to me from his investigations were not up to his…usual work ethic, either. i’m not sure what’s up with him.”
“maybe he’s overworked,” tighnari suggests—you know him as a fellow amurta scholar, recognizing him from your student days. you hadn’t realized alhaitham was friends with such an interesting assortment of people—well, you don’t know if kaveh fits as a friend, but the other two seem like safe bets. 
“i don’t think so,” kaveh grumbles, “he’s hardly been sleeping. it’s not like he takes work home with him, you think he’d be the type? but he’s been drinking all the coffee—i actually work into the night. shouldn’t he at least leave some for me?”
“i wonder what’s up with him,” cyno hums thoughtfully, “he must really be brewing in his emotions.”
you snort at the poor pun, watching as the other two around him wince and groan. 
finally, kaveh sighs, rubbing his temple as he mumbles, “i don’t know. i’ve never seen him like this. i think it’s serious.”
that makes guilt pool in your gut, making you feel so full that even one sip of your drink feels like too much. you’ve lost all desire to drink your sorrows away—you couldn’t have possibly dampened someone like alhaitham so deeply, could you? he’s always been unaffected by things more than others, and you’d never imagined him to care that deeply about your relationship. if you could call it that, even. 
“what do you suppose has brought this on then?” tighnari’s ears twitch in worry, “he’s…not exactly the most emotionally available.”
well, at least you’re not alone in your beliefs. 
“i don’t know,” kaveh says quietly—and even if they claim not to be friends, you don’t think they hate each other a fraction as much as they let on because his voice seems to be twinged with clear worry himself as he adds, “his eyes have been red in the mornings. it can’t be something small.”
that’s all you can stomach to hear before you slam your glass down and swiftly make a beeline for the tavern’s exit. some part of you, weak and bound to alhaitham, is unable to listen any longer about his misery. the misery you caused. the misery you brought yourselves both because insecurities ebbed and flowed into the deepest crevices of your mind and rotted away at the reasonable parts. 
of course, you’re different. of course, there’s a chance things will go sour. of course, it won’t be easy. but isn’t that the case for every relationship? love was never meant to be a simple feat—otherwise, it would never be half as scary to take the fall. 
but you’ve been careful, too careful. so careful that you forgot to let yourself try and be happy, and so careful that you’ve stomped on someone’s feelings enough that his friends exchange their worries over drinks instead of having a good time with him. 
so you decide that enough is enough. if alhaitham isn’t meant to be yours, then celestia themselves will have to take him from you—because you’re not risking losing him a second time. 
not again.
——————————
contrary to popular belief, alhaitham has never been difficult to track down if you simply know where to look. he might be good at making himself scarce, but there’s only a handful of places he could be. the light of his home shining through the window tells you that your first guess is not very off.
you knock, silently staring at the tips of your shoes as he slowly opens the door.
“hey,” you murmur as soon as the door swings open. you haven’t even looked up yet, but you’re certain he has the same neutral expression on his face. but kaveh is right about one thing—his eyes are definitely a little red.
“hey,” he says quietly. 
it’s awkward for a moment. you don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t have any intentions to fill the silence. some time ago, that worried you. his quietness came across as an inability to keep up healthy communication. but now, you miss it—the quiet flip of his pages as he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. the way he let out a soft little breath when you lay on his chest, rubbing his palm slowly in circles against the small of your back. the soft, peaceful silence of his presence. 
you never appreciated it enough, the comfort of knowing you’re valued without having to say anything at all. 
“listen, i—”
“you don’t have to—”
you both stop, pausing when you speak at the same time. 
“go ahead,” you say instantly. 
he clears his throat, shaking his head as he swallows. “no,” he mumbles, ever the gentleman, “no, that’s okay. you go first.”
you think your nerves might just explode one by one if you have to wait any longer, so you don’t bother putting up much more of a fight, nodding before fiddling with your fingers as you take a deep breath. 
the words spill faster than you can process what you’re saying. a long, jumbled string of thoughts that rattle off your tongue like a dam finally breaking at the leaking crack. 
“i was wrong. for all the things i said, i mean. there’s nothing wrong with you, you know? you’re really kind, and you remember the little things, and you always keep your promises, and those are really nice things. and i don’t hate when you’re quiet, by the way. i used to think it bothered me, but i miss it, you know? just having you sit next to me and read and stuff. i guess…i guess i just never bothered trying to think about how to love you the way you needed because i was so busy worrying if you could love me the way i needed and…and i just fucked a lot of things up. i got in my head and made a lot of assumptions that weren’t fair and just…i got cold feet. and i’m sorry. and i love you—really, really love you. all of you. you don’t have to believe me or even say anything at all. i just needed you to know all that because you deserve to.”
he’s silent. you can’t tell whether from being stunned or from disinterest. both are fair, regardless—you think alhaitham could slam the door shut in your face, and you’d deserve it. but he doesn’t. because just as always, he’s your same, kind, gentle alhaitham underneath all of the blunt stoicism. 
“i lied,” you whisper, “i do want you to say something. anything.”
“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he stares at his feet, still looking as hurt as the day you left him. “you…you just assumed i wouldn’t be able to love you, is what i’m gathering.”
“i just thought…” you swallow thickly, tongue like sandpaper against your dry mouth, “i just thought we were too different.”
“i thought we got along well,” he shrugs, trying to pretend there isn’t as much hurt on his features as there is, “maybe i misread things.”
“no,” you shake your head desperately, “no, i overthought them, that’s all.”
“why did you leave me?” he asks hoarsely, “why couldn’t we have talked about things?”
you want to say because you were a coward, maybe even a hypocrite. you insisted he’d be too constipated emotionally to communicate properly with you, but all you’ve done was decide things for him and avoid the hard, heart-to-heart talk.
really, it’s because you were never brave enough to try and love alhaitham the way he would have loved you. the way he loves you. you were blind to see it—weren’t even willing to believe that he ever would. not until after you let him go and realized what you had. he’d walked you home, made sure you got proper rest, pulled strings, and used up favors just to make things better for you. and you missed all the signs, all because it was so easy to walk away, to label his blunt nature as causal cruelty, to confuse his quietness as disinterest, to assume his logic was the absence of emotion. you never gave him a chance because you were never brave enough to take the fall. 
but alhaitham was always ready to catch you, arms aching to wrap around your form and hold you. not because he wanted you to love him, but because all he’s ever wanted was to love you. 
you think that’s the difference between the two of you. you’ve always wanted to be loved, and he’s always wanted to love. you’ve always wanted to take and he’s always wanted to give. you’ve always wanted him to be enough, and he’s always wanted you to know you’re enough and more. 
it’s too much to tell him though, so you settle on cupping his cheeks and whispering, “because you scare me. the way you make me feel.”
“how do i make you feel?”
not too long ago, you’d think he was asking just to confirm what he already knows. now, you know he’s asking because he needs to hear the words for his own sake. just to be sure. just to ease the uncertainty in his own head. 
“you make me feel a lot of things, haitham,” you murmur, “you make me feel happy. appreciated. very pretty. capable. important. sometimes a little dumb,” you giggle as he frowns, squeezing his cheeks as you add, “but only because you’re so smart. i could list a few other things you make me feel, but…they’re not as proper.”
“i thought…just…d-did i do something?” he asks, voice hesitant. there’s a painful, awful squeeze in your heart at his words. but your heart is the last of your worries right now—it’s the least you can do, putting your feelings aside for his own, seeing as you’ve stomped all over his.
so, in an effort to show him that everything is okay, you smile—you’re sure it’s a pathetic, wobbly little thing, but you don’t have time to care. not when he’s right here, under your fingertips, and one possible moment away from slipping away. 
a watery chuckle escapes you as you whisper, “no. you didn’t do anything—it was me. but i’m not running away anymore…if you still want me, that is.” 
“you’re all i want,” he says instantly. “the only thing.”
“i know,” you breathe, “and you are all i want too.”
you kiss him. because he deserves to feel you choose him, to feel you close the gap and show him you’re here. your lips press gently against his, molding into them like two pieces of a puzzle—except you don’t think neither of you fit anywhere else but each other. incomplete without each other and unable to fit anywhere else. your thumb traces the soft, warm skin of his cheek, soothingly caressing it as if to let him know i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. 
he stumbles back, and you follow him in, pressing against the door of his home just like those days ago before an unwelcomed interruption. this time, though, you think kaveh could freeze outside all you care—you’re not letting anything interrupt this moment. 
“i’ve been losing my mind for weeks too,” he mumbles in between gasps for air as you kiss, “just so you know. it wasn’t you alone.”
“that’s good to know,” you hum, grinning against his mouth. 
“and i thought i was giving signs,” he adds, “that’s why i went through the trouble to fix your schedule. so i could spend more time with you—i…i apologize if i wasn’t obvious with my intentions.”
“don’t be,” you say softly, “i’m the one who missed them. you did everything right.”
“did i?” he asks, unsure. 
you press your lips firmly against his when you hear the crack in his voice, as if sheer touch alone will express the way you feel. maybe it does, though—because he melts against you, letting out a soft moan as your hands travel to his broad chest, feeling the muscled and toned body he hardly hides under that skin-tight shirt. 
“i get scared easily,” you whisper, “will you be patient with me?”
“i’m not good at expressing my emotions,” he whispers back, “will you be patient with me too?”
“we can be patient together,” you hum, pecking his lips a few times as he chuckles softly. 
“good plan,” he nods, “sounds like it should work.”
“oh, thank you,” you wink playfully, pulling away to wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his as you look at him cheekily, “i’m a bit of a genius.”
“that you are,” he nods, smiling in amusement. and he means it. you’re every bit smart and capable as he makes you feel—inadequacy was never something alhaitham made you feel; it was always something you brought onto yourself. you’re used to shifting the blame, you realize. it’s so easy to blame everything and everyone but yourself for the intrusive thoughts in your head. 
but they melt away tonight, one feathered kiss at a time, pressed to your jaw delicately by warm, familiar lips you’d know blind. 
“your friends are worried about you, you know. kaveh—”
“please do not mention kaveh’s name right now,” he groans, “i’ll hear all about your alarming story of my friends at the tavern, but right now, i only want to hear you say one name.”
“yours?” you wiggle your brows. 
“glad to know we’re on the same page,” he confirms, humming as your hands trail under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his built muscles. 
“i don’t want anymore casual sex,” you murmur, pouting, “it’s driving me mad.”
“okay,” he nods, shivering as your palms glide over his nipples as you pull his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abdomen for you to admire, “will girlfriend suffice?”
“girlfriend would be great,” you nod, beaming. 
“just so you’re aware, i am very concerned with the emotions of my girlfriend, however heavy they might be. i do still think, however, that nurse was on a…unique realm of her own, though,” he adds the last part with a pointed look.
“don’t mention other women when you just asked me to be your girlfriend,” you huff, “don’t forget who stitches you up. don’t get on my bad side.”
“my apologies,” he laughs. 
and then you’re back to kissing him, fervently and so desperately, you think this might be your last day on earth, making the most of it before you’ve breathed your last breath. alhaitham groans into your mouth, lets your hands wander all over him as you feel the tautness of his physique. 
it’s not the first time you’ve felt him, but it is the first time you can take all the time you want, memorizing him because he’s yours to keep locked away in your memory. 
“i love you,” you pant against his mouth, wet, hot kisses interrupting your sweet confession. 
“i,” he kisses your cheek, “love,” a kiss to your other cheek, “you,” a kiss to your nose, “too.”
this time, he leans down and kisses you right over your pulse point, right where your racing heart rate is beating erratically. you gasp when he bites and sucks at the flesh, making you whimper as your knees buckle. 
“how much?” you ask, pleading to know.
“enough to lose sleep,” he murmurs, “because my dreams were plagued with you. i couldn’t escape you in waking hours or in slumber. that’s how much you torment me. take over my body and mind. is that what you needed to hear?”
he’s a linguist—sometimes you forget that. perhaps he’s not so bad at saying what you need to hear, after all.
“maybe,” you hum, kissing his cheek, nibbling affectionately at the soft flesh, “you like me that much? how cute.”
“i’ll like you a lot more if you stop teasing,” he grunts, pressing his hot, searing erection against your thigh as your thumbs toy away at his nipples. you gasp when you feel him prod at you, feeling the heat even through the fabric that separates you. 
neither of you are patient enough to do this properly right now—but you have plenty of time for that. plenty of time to take it slow, explore each other, and map your bodies in ways you never dared to before. scared to cross that stupid, useless imaginary line you drew for no reason at all. you decide from here on out there are no more lines—just endless sand, your footprints next to his as you trek the path of lovers. 
you rub at his hardened cock through his pants, making him grunt before he grabs your hands and pins them over your head. 
“i said love you,” he says intensely, eyeing you with a carnal hunger you’ve never seen in him before, “but i didn’t say i’d be patient tonight.”
with that, his free hand tugs down both of your pants—his just enough to free his aching cock, and yours enough to expose your leaking cunt as he teases your clit with the blunt tip of his length. you whimper, bucking your hips into him, feeling the beads of precum spread along your heat as he shudders. 
“put it in,” you whine, clutching his shirt with tight fists. 
“you’re…not ready yet,” he insists, teeth grit as he gives his all to hold himself back from taking you just like you plead. 
but you’re stubborn—and alhaitham? he’s too weak to you to fight you when you are, doomed to give into any and every whim of yours.
“don’t care,” you shake your head, “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. i just want you—please, please, please haitham.”
that’s all it takes for him to crack—slowly, so, so carefully, he nudges past your wet folds, inching his throbbing cock into you as you gasp at the stretch. this isn’t the first time he’s split you open—but it’s never something you get used to. the burning stretch still feels as new as the first time. he groans, low and breathless, as your walls clamp down on him as he slowly but surely intrudes into your cunt. 
“so tight,” he murmurs, voice filled with wonder—like this is the first time he’s ever felt you so raw. maybe it is. he’s never felt you as his, as yours. “does that feel good? do you feel me? what you do to me? and you thought i didn’t feel the same? like i didn’t purposely let blades slice my skin just for an excuse to come find you? feel your touch, watch you worry? just for a moment of your attention? surely, you can’t be so blind.”
his words make your head spin, making you throw it back as a soft escapes you when the last bit of his length slips in, filling you full and to the brim as he nudges at the most sensitive spots inside of you. he’s so deep; you think your lungs are filled with him, like every breath you take is filled with him, him, him. 
“yes,” you say through a shaky voice, “yes—so good, you feel so good. i want you, haitham. all of you.”
“you have all of me,” he kisses the words into your neck, “that’s not enough? you want more?”
“yes,” you plead, “more!”
he chuckles, smooth and low and so pretty, you feel an ache in your clit from the sound alone. “well, alright then. more it is—i could never dream of denying such a sweet wish.”
finally, he rolls his hips, all but pulling out completely before pressing back into you, dragging along every ridge of you, nudging his thick tip against the spongey, sensitive at the back of your walls. you’re slack against his door, held up by him and him alone as your body betrays you, unable to keep balance as he fucks into you the way he does. 
it’s been nine days without you. the way his hips snap so desperately into you, you’d think he’s a man thirsty, gone a year without rain in the deepest, more treacherous ruins in the desert. all you can do is cling to him, repeat the same mantra of haitham, haitham, haitham—more, please haitham.
he knows your body well. so, so well, he knows exactly how to toy with your clit, thumb finding the sensitive nub, enough pressure to make you whine with a jolt, but not enough to let you fall over the edge just yet—not until he allows it.
“i love you,” he punctuates with a roll of his hips, “repeat that. so i know you believe it. so i know you believe me.”
“p-please,” you gasp, tugging at his hair, “i…i need to c-cum—”
“say it,” he demands. 
“you love me—oh,” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath, his thumb abusing your clit in faster circles. 
“again,” he says firmly.
“you love me,” you whimper, “you…you love me. only me.”
“good,” he nods, groaning as you squeeze around him at the praise, “and don’t forget it. not for a second.”
“l-love you too,” you stutter, voice cracking as he rolls his hips unforgivingly, the friction making your mind fog with pure lust. “love you so, so much.”
that makes him inhale sharply, breath catching in his throat. his head falls to your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin as he moans lowly, hips sloppy and ungraceful in their pace but never failing in precision to angle right into your sweet spot. his thumb rolls circles into your clit, fast and desperate to send you over the edge so he can follow. 
and you do—you fall off the edge so fast, so hard, your nails dig blunt, raw crescent moons into his skin as you arch your back off the door and cry his name. luckily for alhaitham, his house is built conveniently enough that he has no close neighbors. no one to hear such filthy sounds right against the door for them to witness just by passing by. no one should be at this hour—but even if they were, you hardly could bring yourself to care. 
“c-cumming,” you wail, “cumming, haitham.”
“so beautiful,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, voice strained as he chases his own orgasm, “can’t…can’t believe you’re mine. mine.”
it’s like the realization that you’re his is what pushes him past the edge, his cock twitching with hot, thick ropes of cum into your abused cunt and painting the walls white as soon as he repeats the word mine. 
mine, mine, mine—he doesn’t stop repeating it even as he fucks himself into you and works himself through his high. you can feel the wet, messy trail of his cum and your slick leaking down your thighs, so filthy, so lewd, so devastatingly raw. 
“yours,” you confirm tiredly, kissing his head as he pants into your neck, muffled moans pressed against your skin as you soothe him while he falls apart against you. “all yours. not going anywhere, i promise. i promise.”
finally, he slumps against you, panting as he tries to catch his breath, sweaty and tired but never unsatisfied. 
“if you leave me again,” he quietly admits, “i think i’ll go mad.”
“then i won’t,” you say gently, stroking his sweaty locks. 
“i love you,” he reminds you once more, “do you believe me?”
“i do,” you nod, smiling like he’s handed you the sun, “and i love you too. do you believe me?”
“i do,” he hums, wrapping himself around you tighter. 
there’s a jiggle of the doorknob behind you, followed by an incoherent, slurred string of curses. alhaitham deflates against you, looking up at you tiredly. you throw your head back and laugh, gleeful, and so, so in love. 
“i’m tired of him,” he grumbles.
“let him off easy this once,” you brush back his hair, “it’s thanks to him that i came to see you tonight.”
“then i suppose just this once, i won’t leave him out to freeze,” he relents. 
you realize for a moment, alhaitham had never drawn the line in the first place. perhaps it was always just you, making rules in your head when all he ever did was want you from the start. he waited so patiently for you, so you cup his cheeks and pull him closer, giving him one more firm kiss as a reward for all you put him through. he pulls away, dazed as he stares at you with unfocused eyes. 
“i’ll give you another like that if you run me a warm bath,” you say cheekily. 
“do i get to join this bath,” he raises a brow, eyeing you in amusement as his hands rub soothingly into your hips. 
you pretend to think for a moment, mockingly tapping your chin in deep thought before you murmur, “okay, fine. but no funny business.”
“i wouldn’t dream of it—”
“hello?” kaveh’s slurred call interrupts, followed by rough knocking. 
“he can freeze,” alhaitham says bitterly.
“don’t you dare!” you gasp, fighting back a laugh as he looks at you miserably.
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well…….what was supposed to be maybe 4-5k words at best has…..gotten quite out of hand LOL. 14k words later i present to you my official love letter to alhaitham. anyway i suppose this fic stems from sometimes wondering if i would be compatible with the characters i enjoy. but the question is not whether or not you’re compatible, but whether or not you’re willing to put in the work to make compatibility. and alhaitham would certainly do that. anyway!!! i hope you enjoyed. i’m not sure if many peiple will read this, but if you do, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! giving you all a hug and reminding you that your favs would 100% want you <3
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ncis-nerd · 2 days
Text
Our Princess
princess reader x servants!wandanat
warnings: cheating, pevert wandanat, jealousy, innocence kink, smut, pet names, slight non-con, dubious consent, oral (r receiving), dom!wandanat.
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marvel masterlist
They knew what they were doing from the first moment they laid eyes on you. Fuck you were so perfect, the way your eyes widen when you giggled. How your dress rode up when you were watching TV. How innocent you were.
Your first interaction was when the two ladies were cleaning up. Wanda was washing the dishes in the kitchen with her apron on, Natasha sweeping the floors. That's when you wandered in, barefooted in a pink nightgown.
"Oh! Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you guys!" you exclaimed, backing out of the kitchen. Natasha shot Wanda a smirk. Wanda met her gaze, they both were thinking the same thing- how fun messing with you would be.
Wanda bowed in your presence, "Don't mind us, princess." She purred. You, oblivious to their tactics, hummed in response. Making your way to a cabinet that was a bit too high for you. You stood on your tippy toes, your hand attempting to grasp the handle. In the process, your nightgown begins to ride up, giving the two women a view of your flowery underwear.
Fuck you looked so good like that, Natasha bit her lip. Wanda smacked Nat's arm, you were dating Maria and were their boss. You could ruin their lives with the flick of the wrist. But you were so addicting, they couldn't resist.
From that moment on, they'd try everything to be in your path but you suspected nothing. They were just trying their jobs, that's why you caught Wanda folding your underwear and Natasha sweeping the living room floor while you were trying to watch TV.
---
You hummed, reading a book in your little sundress. You were tanning in your backyard by the pool. Maria, your girlfriend, was coming over to hang out with you. The sun was particularly hot today so you figured why not spend the day outside.
You had sunglasses on, that protected your eyes and a towel draped over your chair. You couldn't wait to play with her in the pool. Maria is your girlfriend and she's the same age as you. You guys went to school together and Maria admitted her love for you so the logical thing to do was to get together. At first you were hesitant but not for the reasons Maria thought. No, it wasn't internal homophobia, it was the fact that you hadn't been with anyone before. But Maria didn't mind your lack of experience.
"Hey hun, your girlfriend is here." Natasha spoke, ratherly harshly but nonetheless drawing your attention. Wonder what must of gotten her upset.. Your eyes followed her as she went back into the house. The door opened behind her, your girlfriend came out.
"Mar!!!" You squealed, running into her arms. She smiled and picked you up, "Hey princess!!" She chuckled, carrying you bridal style, to the seats. "Missed you" you mumbled in her arms.
--
Wanda and Natasha watched from the windows. A feeling of jealousy sprang from this. It should be them out there with you. For you to run into Wanda's arms and Natasha to be the one carrying you.
For it to be their bodies against you, not that girl who couldn't care for you like they did. You needed real women to teach a delicate thing like you.
Natasha bit her lip as she watched Maria's hand rest on your ass. The way a innocent kiss from you, turned into Maria climbing onto of you. She began to leave kisses on your skin, marking you up. Maria looked up for a second, making eye contact with the two servants. She knew they were watching and was testing them. Daring them to try and stop this, to try and take her girl.
--
You whimpered softly, you couldn't believe this was happening. Maria straddled you and began to bite and suck on your skin, leaving hickeys all over you. "Mar, that hurts" you mumbled against her. "Let me have my way with you doll, I promise you'll be satisfied by the end." She pushed,
The two women watched this interaction and saw it unfold. The way you were pushing back against Maria, how she ignored your protests and just dismissed you. They had enough.
"Maria your parents called, they said it was an emgerncy and they need you home" Wanda spoke. Maria jumped off of y/n and hurried out after giving her a little peck on the forehead and a quick "goodbye".
--
After a moment of silence, Wanda made her way to you. You were sitting on the chair, your chest covered in marks from your girlfriend. A slight pout on your face. "What's the matter, dear?" Wanda cooed, Natasha coming up behind you with the same faux concern. "Yeah darling, what's got you all frowny? Hm?" Natasha hummed.
"Maria" you mumbled sadly, you didn't know why your girlfriend was suddenly acting like that. She said she'd take things slowly for you, but maybe it was going too slow for her liking.
"Awe, princess." Wanda whispered, stroking your back gently. "You know honey, we saw what happened. I think the problem is that you are such a delicate thing and your girlfriend doesn't understand that. A little thing liek you needs a real, mature woman fo help you navigate." She purred.
--
"I think she might be ready for us Wanda, this seems like the perfect timing." Natasha whispered in the hall, trying not to let you hear the conversation between the two of them. "I don't know Nat, she seems like she isn't interested. You saw how things went down with Maria. A simple kiss turned her off." Wanda protested.
--
Your face turned red, you were still thinking about what Natasha said earlier. How they'd treat you right, that you needed a mature woman teach you.
You began to feel an ache between your thighs. It was so wet and sticky, you didn't know what to do, so the only logical thing to do was to go ask the pair.
Your pillow bumps your clit as you make your way off your bed. You jolt in response, that feels weird but a good kind of weird. You attempt to gain that feeling back, of course not knowing what you're doing due to a lack of experience. Your hips rut against your pillow. You sigh gently, biting your lip to stiffle any sounds. A moan escapes your lips when suddenly you hear a voice hum in amusement.
You turn around to be greeted with Natasha's eyes which focused on the wet spot of your pillow and Wanda who was only smirking at you. Her eyes on your chest. Your nipples were hard and peeked through your thin tank top.
"H-How long have you been standing there?” you froze.
--
"Mhm" you cried out. Fuck, you looked so good like this, they just wanted to take you but they restricted themselves. A fragile little thing like you needs to be treated like a princess. Natasha's tongue circled your clit, your hips buckled against her. "She's so responsive." Natasha mumbled against you, the comment directed towards the other servant.
Wanda had you against her, your back to her front. She held your hips in place for Natasha. "There, there, it's okay princess. If it's too much just let me or Natty know" She whispered softly.
inspired by @esouliie
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luveline · 2 days
Note
i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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evie-sturns · 2 days
Text
toddler - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.
contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?
a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.
----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————
7:38pm
matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.
i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.
yesterday
“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up
“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him
matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”
“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”
“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.
“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells
the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom
“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.
my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.
i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins
“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.
she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.
“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head
i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.
i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh
suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed
“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.
millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire
as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something
“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in
i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face
“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor
“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths
he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths
he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me
“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.
“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.
“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”
matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down
“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.
“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.
millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt
matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response
“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs
“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.
“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie
“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks
millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand
“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead
they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.
matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands
“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.
“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”
claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.
matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.
after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.
“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod
—-
8:56pm
matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.
matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.
“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.
i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.
“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.
“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper
“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression
“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”
matt goes silent,
“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks
“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”
i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.
matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.
the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.
“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.
“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out
“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”
matt rambles
“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”
“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”
matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.
“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.
matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep
————
9:56am the next day
the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,
my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.
i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.
i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.
the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight
my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.
“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.
“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.
they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile
millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.
“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.
“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me
“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.
————
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
713 notes · View notes
harmoonix · 23 hours
Text
HYPNOSIS
Astrology Observations
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I'll be seaside
Sitting on the sand drinking a mai tai
Waking up and soaking up the sunlight
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💙 - Neptune in the 1H/9H/12H native is like the Universe's kid, very spiritual, very empathic, very emotional, understanding the space and the outer space nature
💙 - Sun in the 8th/9th/12th house natives literally are a balance between spirituality and empathy, you have to be there at the right moment to feel it
💙 - Libra in your big 3 (Sun, Rising, Moon) can make others charmed by you, also you give a big impression to people when they first meet you
💙 - Scorpio in your big 3 (Sun, Rising, Moon) are intense placements, they love playing with the fire and fire loves "playing" with them
💙 - Venus conjunct/sextile/trine Moon will make you so peaceful/calm. People around you love this energy and you give harmonious vibes
💙 - Ascendant aspecting Uranus (all aspects) are very aware of the things happening around them. Is like they always have the 3rd eye open
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💙 - Neptune aspecting your Sun will make you shine so bright that you can get hate for being in this "light", you stand out, but haters gonna hate
💙 - Aries & Capricorn Moons are both so defensive of their loved ones and i admire that so much about them they wanna this energy of "Don't mess with me"
💙 - Neptune aspecting the ascendant has beautiful eyes, there is a saying like "The eyes are the mirror of the soul". people fall in love with your eyes before anything
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I'll be seaside
Watching all the seagulls flying so high
Looking at our future looking so bright, so bright
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💙 - Pluto aspecting Midheaven have so much power in their lives that other people have the feeling to control them for that. Take care of yourself and your energy
💙 - Uranus in your 3rd house will make your voice to stand out, your voice is very powerful in this placement and I also mean the way you communicate and tell words
💙 - Jupiter in your 6H/10H. Jupiter is blessing the native with a good personalty and good job/also a lot of influence and devotion to the world
💙 - Having a Water Moon is the 1# biggest sign that you should be a spiritual person, because Water Moons are psychic
💙 - Mars in Sagittarius/9H can be very revengeful, you did something bad to them, they'll return the same thing to you
💙 - Mars in Cancer/4H can act the same, but the thing with them is that, they will know your weakness/sensible point
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💙 - Capricorn & Libra combo placements in a chart indicate a lot of diplomacy/politeness, very elegant and charismatic too
💙 - Jupiter in your 5H/11H can fullfil your desires on a long term, if you truly want or wish something (good) to happen, try to manifest it
💙 - Lilith in your 6H/8H/10H/12H can act mischievous, you never know what they'll be thinking about or their plans
💙 - Mars square/conjunct/opposite Uranus will act messy when they're annoyed, Mars here is uncontrollable or just wild free
💙 - Scorpio Venus/Mars can meet potential "partners" who can take advantage of them which is not totally okay, make sure people appreciate for everything you have to offer
──────────────────────────────
I be busy, busy, nah
Busy doing nothing all day
Y bailando con toda mi gente, y
Veo que no me dejas de ver
──────────────────────────────
💙 - Saturn/Lilith or Pluto in the 11H can indicate lots of betrayals, can be romantically or friendly or even from family members
💙 - Earth Moons/Earth Sun gives "old soul" and what I mean with that is, they're experienced in life and they seem like they went through a lot
💙 - Mercury aspecting Pluto or Neptune can have people hiding things from them, secrets, dark "plans" and others, even gossip
💙 - Can someone tell me why a fire Venus will always make me think of a hot song you hear during summer that you cannot forget?? Adore them.
💙 - A Chart with fire as predominantly element will act too impulsively/stubborn sometimes even too "wild" at times
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💙 - Lilith in Aries/Cancer/Sagittarius/Aquarius wants to break the norms and the things that are always seen as "toxic", they want to break free from everything that pains them
💙 - Lilith (h58) is the most dangerous Lilith in a chart so here are some observations about it
Lilith h58 aspecting Chiron can indicate unsealed traumas/bad experienced from your life
Lilith h58 aspecting Midheaven gives no fuck about nobody, they don't care what the world thinks about them "You have just one life, live it how you want"
Lilith h58 aspecting Venus will act toxic in love if they feel threatened by their partners energy
Lilith h58 aspecting the ascendant is very rebellious, very rude or mean at times, few know this "rude" energy can be just for protecting themselves
Lilith h58 aspecting Mercury will not be afraid to call people out when is needed, they may use a very dirty way of talking
Lilith h58 sitting empty in a chart like a black whole, absorbing energy of all forms,
💙 - Mars in the 7th house/Mars in Libra despite the drama about how Mars is chaotic in Libra, they tend to have romantic relationship and energetic spouses, + they're being so assertive in their relationships
💙 - Neptune/Pluto or Saturn in your 6th house can drain your energy fast, that's why is good to take a break after you did some work so you don't end up exhausted
─────────────────────────────
Mientras la música suene
Aquí pegaditos al mar
No me pienso mover a otro lugar
──────────────────────────────
💙 - Venus aspecting Mars has a bold energy. What's attractive about them is that they can attract all types of people with this energy (from jealous people to really indifferent ones)
💙 - Mars aspecting Moon (in harsh aspects) get angry or frustrated fast, is not like they're about to explode instead they just feel like screaming out in a pillow
💙 - Midheaven aspecting Neptune or Jupiter can work in environments where spirituality can be used a lot, like a spiritual guide
💙 - Having Moon in your 9th house, beside having a good love life, this aspect can indicate a lot of creativity and knowledge. Also a love for exploring the *unknown*
💙 - Jupiter aspecting Lilith h12 (harsh aspects) since Jupiter will expand even in harsh aspects, their sexual energy can just grow and grow until it hits some the point of hypersexuality
💙 - Saturn in the 1st house natives have the chance to reflect on themselves after every fail, always overcome your fears and mistakes
💙 - Lilith in Capricorn/10th house is the native who seeks for recognition and success, these placements also indicate a stubborn person with a traditional ethic
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💙 - Mars in Taurus/Mars in the 2nd house has an intense determinations to achieve anything they desire, this placement also indicates staying good with money or financially
💙 - Lilith in Leo/5TH or in Leo Degrees 5°, 17°, 29° have a big pride, this placement can also he know for their perseverance and sharp mind
💙 - Moon/Venus/Rising/Juno in Sagittarius gives "you're always be my ritual" thanks to Sagittarius's ties with the 9th house who can indicate rituals
💙 - Sun in the 7th/Leo in the 7th house/Sun at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees can put their partners on the 1st place in a relationship, but also your partner mirrors you with a strong vitality
💙 - Neptune in the 4H is actually a dark placement if we go in the depth of themes of Neptune because after all, Neptune represents addiction, natives with Neptune in the 4H can go into addictions from a young age or from childhood for example like smoking, alcohol, bad influences
💙 - Neptune aspecting Venus/Neptune in the 7H always day dream about their partners or future partners. Even crushes.
💙 - Sun in the 9th/Jupiter in the 1H natives are very spiritual/religious deep down in their hearts, it can be a very dear topic for them
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💙 - Virgo in your big 3 (Sun, Moon or Rising) will make you to be devoted no matter what, your humanitarian nature makes you such a kind person!
💙 - Cancer/Pisces and Leo Mars can skip arguments, they don't like it and don't wanna fight, so most times they choose to just walk away
💙 - Mercury in the 1st/5th/11th houses will gift a person with good humour, if Mercury is in the 8H they can have a dark type of humour, dark jokes too
💙 - Neptune or Pisces rulling your 2H or 3H can give you a very addictive voice, Mercury - Neptune aspects too
💙 - When you have your Saturn Retrograde it feels like having a second parent/father. Like Saturn is tutoring you on your life path
──────────────────────────────
If you're looking for me
I'll be seaside
──────────────────────────────
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💙 - Sun or Rising in Taurus Degrees 2°, 14°, 26° can make the native to be more "earthed" more down to earth, more calm
💙 - Lilith h12 in Pisces or in the 12th house can indicate ancestral wounds, which is a highly deep wound related to your ancestors idk why this placement reminds me about Mulan's ancestors fighting in the temple in the animated movie
💙 - Since no one mentions this, having your Jupiter in the 9H or in Sagittarius doesn't always mean you gonna meet your spouse in foreign lands but also in highschool or university, you can be highschool lovers for example or even highschool lovers in foreign lands as a combo of both, also either you or your partner will have a different ethnicity!! Jupiter at 9°. 21° degrees too
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I always give my 10/10 everytime there is an avatar thematic 💅🏼💅🏼💅🏼💅🏼, is the highest grossing movie for a reason after all 💅🏼
Hope you all have a good day for those to read my posts 🥰🥰
H a r m o o n i x
418 notes · View notes
literaila · 2 days
Note
i always think of this whenever i’m abt to sleep
imagine yuji and nobara going over to megumis house during summer break (it’s rlly gojos house cuz yk) and imagine reader sitting on the couch with baby gojo and theyre so shocked gojo has another child😭
“no, satoru, i already told you not to—“
“it doesn’t even make sense,” he’s saying, rolling his eyes like he’s the child here. “why am i supposed to drink water, but she can’t?”
“first of all, you don’t drink water even when i force it down your throat—“
“i am beyond biology—“
“and second of all, because she’s a baby.”
he pouts. “won’t she get thirsty?”
“you literally just gave her a bottle. you stole it from my hands.”
“because i’m bonding.”
even as you bicker, the two of you are staring down at the little baby, watching as her eyes flicker in sleep, her nose scrunching up like she wants you to squeeze her.
and even as you fight, the smile on your face matches satoru’s—adoring, mesmerized by this tiny little thing in his arms.
so mesmerized, in fact, that you don’t even notice when the front door opens. or when three teenagers—stomping, like teenagers do—trail into the house.
megumi walks into the kitchen to grab something, but both yuji and nobara stop when they notice you and satoru on the couch. neither of them says a thing as they listen to your hissing voices—quiet enough not to wake the baby.
megumi walks back into the room, sipping from a glass, and raises a brow at both of his “friends.” they’ve been here before, they know where his room is.
“uh, are we supposed to just ignore them?” nobara asks, giving megumi a weird look.
he looks over—obviously not having noticed this scene—and then rolls his eyes. “yes.”
he turns to walk to his room, mind on textbooks and avoiding his very annoying parents, when yuji grabs his arm.
“but, fushiguro,” the voice says, voice soft and somehow whining. “there’s a baby.”
“and?”
yuji is too busy staring at the bundle in satoru’s arms to answer, and he carefully tiptoes over to the couch, wide smile on his face.
already cooing, of course.
you look up, grinning. “oh, hi, yuji.”
yuji tilts his head, watching as satoru traces tiny circles on baby soft skin.
satoru looks up. “i’m not letting you hold her,” he tells the boy, “it’s still my turn.”
you sigh. “satoru—“
“oh, no, i don’t—i mean, i don’t even know how. i just wanted to…” yuji is staring at the child like she’s an alien, but it took all of three seconds for him to become just as mesmerized as the two of you. “is she… yours?”
yuji’s eyes widen, and he looks perturbed back at megumi. was he not even going to mention his baby sister—
“seriously, dude?” nobara says for the two of them, punching megumi’s arm. “what else are you keeping from us?”
yuji looks back to the two of you, satoru nodding vigorously.
you pull his hair. “no, she’s not ours. we’re just babysitting for a friend.”
satoru coughs and says something that sounds suspiciously like “for now,” under his breath.
you pull at his hair a little harder, grinning at him when he can’t push you away.
“she’s adorable.”
nobara nears the three—four?—of you as well, looking at the baby. “are you sure you can trust him with her?” she asks you, giving satoru a wary eye.
you laugh and satoru pouts.
“it’s just a baby,” megumi says, groaning from behind both of his friends. “what’s the big deal? we have to study.”
“she’s cute,” nobara tells him, “that’s the big deal.”
“don’t listen to him,” you whisper, “he was all over her before he left.”
yuji laughs back at him and nobara huffs.
megumi just rolls his eyes again. “are you two coming?”
you smile at the two of them, then back at megumi. really, he’s sweet. really. “if you’re still here when she wakes up again, you can feed her.”
yuji grins. “really?”
“sure.”
“um,” satoru cough, eyeing you, very disturbed. “that’s my job.”
“you need to share.”
“i’m not sharing my own child—“
“not ours,” you sing, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“but she could be. i recently learned how babies are made, and i think we could pull it off—“
you laugh and megumi groans again. “i’m leaving,” he says, turning and storming down the hall.
“i’ll come and tell you if she’s hungry,” you say to the other two, ruffing yuji’s hair.
“okay!”
nobara gives the baby one last look, and then she’s following megumi out of the room, yuji taking just a moment longer—frowning—but eventually following along.
“i’m serious, you know,” satoru whispers, resuming his circles on her unblemished face.
“yeah, i know.”
“why not?”
“because you’re still a child, and megumi’s just started school—“
“megumi wants a baby more than i do.”
you roll your eyes.
“we’d make a good baby,” satoru says to you, “even cuter than her.”
you sigh, moving even closer to him, your side pressed up against his. “yeah.”
“i’ll wait,” satoru says, “but i know you’re lying.”
“i’m not lying—“
“you almost started crying when she sneezed earlier—“
“no, i did not—“
395 notes · View notes
theyluvkarolina · 8 hours
Note
heyy!!!
can i request lando x volleyball girlie who did vb for two years but has to quit because of a knee injury please? feel free to ignore if this doesn't spark anything!!
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓)
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` it’s giving oikawa from haikyuu ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Volleyball was all you ever known, and everything was looking up in your career, until an injury. Luckily, your boyfriend is there to hope you cope and get better.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lando Norris x Volleyball!Fem!Reader
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌: Maddie Madayag (for volleyball photos)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of a injury but nothing severe.
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ tysm for the request! I decided to do my own little spin on this with making this a bit more of a crack fic but definitely kept the volleyball and knee injury! Also, this is pretty short! I’m so sorry with the length of this, but i really liked this request and wanted to do it! I hope you enjoy it 🩶 I’ve had my fair share of injuries that led me to quit what i loved, so the fic kinda hits hard for me 🥹 i used to play football/soccer growing up until i pulled my back muscle in my 9th year of school and wasn’t able to play the same ever again, injuries suck 👎
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Twitter
(PS: Date on photo does not matter, fic happens between Aus and Japan GP!)
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Instagram
y/n_volleys posted a story 3 minutes ago!
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username, landonorris, username and other replied to your story!
username1 MISS GIRL.
username2 OMG 😭😭
username3 HELLO??? NOT THE ACL
username4 we’re cooked 😞😞
landonorris THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU INJURED YOURSELF??? landonorris HOLD ON landonorris I’M NOT MESSAGING YOU THROUGH INSTAGRAM DMS. landonorris OPEN MY MESSAGES.
iMessages
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Twitter
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y/n_volleys ✔︎
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liked by landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon, and others
y/n_volleys success!! surgery went well. heartbroken to be going out like this especially before the olympics but i will be coming back stronger 💪 time to take some time to myself 🫶
3,214 comments
landonorris ✔︎ whatever you do don’t move out of bed before i get home
landonorris ✔︎ drink water
landonorris ✔︎ get sleep
landonorris ✔︎ enjoy your cookie ice cream thing
landonorris ✔︎ don’t exercise too much
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ lando are you my bf or my mom? → landonorris ✔︎ right now i’m being a caring boyfriend 🤨🤨 im sorry i love you 😒 → username5 i want to have love like this. → username6 google, how do i find a bf that cares about me, has a good job, is funny, kind, and loves me more than the world? 🧑‍💻 → lilymunihe ✔︎ @ alexalbon why aren’t you like this with me → alexalbon ✔︎ i literally already am 😕😕 → lilymunihe ✔︎ i don’t see my cookies and ice cream in a mug.
username7 the leg injury is giving oikawa from haikyu
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ …no… no.. NO DON’T TAKE ME BACK TO 2020 → username8 Y/N IS GETTING WAR FLASHBACKS
iMessages
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y/n_volleys posted a story 24 minutes ago!
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lilymunihe, username, username and other replied to your story!
username9 ZOO WEE MAMA 😍 → y/n_volleys that’s my bf 😍😍
username10 GIRL DID YOU HAVE TO POST THIS → y/n_volleys I NEED TO SHOW PEOPLE WHAT THEY ARE MISSING 😣😣
lilymunihe ✔︎ GIRL WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS HERE → y/n_volleys ✔︎ girl fuck them kids 🗣️ ‼️
y/n_volleys ✔︎
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liked by landonorris, bsf_username, lailahasanovic and others
y/n_volleys get yourself a bf who takes care of you after tearing you leg apart 🩷
tagged ; landonorris
3,245 comments
username11 they are actually so cute
username12 dumping my bf if he doesn’t do this more me.
oscarpiastri ✔︎what a caption!
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ do you want it in full detail → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no.
carlosainz55 ✔︎ did lando ever finish that puzzle?
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ he did finish it → carlosainz55 ✔︎ …did? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ yeah it was finished BEFORE HE DROPPED IT ON THE FLOOR TRYING TO MOVE IT → landonorris ✔︎ I SAID I WAS SORRY. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ you left your injured gf to clean up the mess 😞😞 → maxfewtrell ✔︎ wooowww lando… @ landonorris → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what a gentleman @ landonorris → carlosainz55 ✔︎ntsk tsk… @ landonorris → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ some boyfriend you are @ landonorris → landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE I WENT TO GO GET THE BROOM → username13 it’s not a good day if y/n and lando fight with each other (lovingly)
lando.jpeg ✔︎
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liked by y/n_volleys, carlosainz55, oscarpisatri and others
lando.jpeg gf appreciation post (pre injury photo included 😱)
2,571 comments
y/n_volleys ✔︎ last photo makes this feel like a facebook mom post
y/n_volleys ✔︎ i want to kiss you rn 🥹 i love you so much 🧡
→ lando.jpeg you are literally in the bed next to me rn turn over and kiss me on my hot mouth. i’m feeling romantical → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what did i just read. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ shakespeare 😍
username14 not them playing minecraft together :((
→ username15 but the real question is… did they put their beds next to each other? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ wooooahhhh what kind of unholy person do you think i am??? → lando.jpeg ✔︎ we aren’t insane 🙄 🙄
username16 i wish i was y/n
→ username17 fuck being y/n i want to be lando he has a amzing woman as his gf.
y/n_volleys ✔︎
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liked by landonorris, usavwnt and others
y/n_volleys different from my other posts… but I wanted to give a big thank you to all the fans, my family, and friends for the nonstop support for me and overcoming thi injury. I can’t wait to be back in rehab training for you all to see me back on the court 🩷 lots of love!! 🥹
3,501 comments
usavwnt ✔︎ glad to see you improve and get better! see you back on the court!! 💪
Liked by y/n_volleys!
username18 not the free feet pics 😣😣
username19 y/n and lando are such cutie
username20 i’m so happy to see her get the support she needs ❤️‍🩹
landnorris ✔︎ and where is my shout out and tag???
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ i’d also love to give a big shout out to my amazing, brunet, curly haired, British, born in Bristol boyfriend, who lives in Monaco and treats me like a princess, and is the kindest, sweetest, funniest man I’ve ever met in my life who also happens to be a f1 driver ❤️ → landnorris ✔︎ much better 😋😋 → oscarpiastri ✔︎ aw (i’m going to throw up if you keep kissing in the garage) → y/n_volleys ✔︎ ..oscar… I thought we agreed to keep that between us three… → oscarpiastri ✔︎ whoops → username21 bro outed them and said “whoops” 💀💀
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idyllic-ghost · 3 days
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I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)
ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭
warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI
Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.
"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.
The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.
"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.
"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."
You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.
"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"
Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.
"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.
"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.
"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."
It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.
"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.
"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.
In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.
"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."
"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."
"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.
His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.
"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."
Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.
"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.
"I like this more," you counter.
He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.
"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."
His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.
You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.
"Again?" you ask incredulously.
"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.
"It's late, aren't you tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 day
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𝐓𝐈𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "But imagine paige bueckers with girlfriend who applied lip plumper. Like a tik tok prank" for @splash-candy
─ word count | 480
─ warnings | nothing but light language, teasing and a tiny kiss!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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YOU PROPPED YOUR camera come on the car dash and watched as Paige enter the car with your drinks.
"Dude, the barista was so rude." Paige huffed as she handed you the drink, not noticing the camera that was recording the two of you.
You took the drink from her grip and smiled, trying to hide your amusement at Paige's irritation. "Really? What did they do?" you asked, taking a sip of your drink and glancing at the camera discreetly, making sure it was still recording.
Paige sighed, sinking into the passenger seat. "They just had this rude ass attitude, you know? Like they were doing me a favor by making my coffee like it's not their job."
You laughed as you sipped the coffee, nodding along sympathetically. "I'm sorry babe, but hey. They made the coffee really good, so that's a plus."
"I guess," Paige sighed as she got out her phone and checked the time. You got out your lip gloss from your purse, putting some on quickly as Paige watched you, a smile appearing on her face as she wet her lips slightly.
You caught Paige's smile in the corner of your eye and couldn't help but return it, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "You like that shade?"
"Mhm," she responded as she kept her gaze on your lips.
You laughed, a blush creeping on your face. "Want some?" You puckered out your lips with a playful smirk, teasing Paige.
She leaned and gave you a quick kiss before you laughed into the kiss, unable to maintain your serious face. You glanced toward the camera with a laugh as Paige looked at you suspiciously as she leaned back into the driver's seat.
"Why are you acting so weird?" Paige asked as she gave you a side-eye, putting the car in drive as she pulled out of the parking lot.
"I'm not acting weird, baby." You replied casually as you bit your lip to suppress your laugh. A few moments pass and your lips began to sting, indicating the plumper had begun to work.
"Dude, what the fuck." She scrunched her nose as her lips began to sting and you couldn't help but burst into laughter at her reaction. "Did you put on that stupid lip plumper? Bro, my lips hurt," she whined as you rolled your eyes at her dramatic reaction.
"It's not that bad, P." You replied as you took out your phone to record Paige as she rolled her eyes, grabbing your phone playfully. "Come on, it's just a little tingle," you teased.
"Are you tryna make us a damn TikTok couple," she groaned as she gave you back your phone as you laughed at her reaction. "But if you post it, tag me."
"I'm sure everyone will know it's you, baby." You responded with a soft laugh, glancing back at your girlfriend.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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shotmrmiller · 10 hours
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damn ok but before uf!konigs big arse makes an appearance, i need reader to get spicy. it's out of the norm, you're usually pretty collected and tend to only snap your teeth at johnny because he's a fucking creep simon, don't leave me here alone with him
but now everyone's feeling your wrath, even john who you never snarl at because you know your place in the food chain so late one night, simon comes out of the shower, drying his hair only to spot you pacing in the kitchen, mumbling to yourself and he thinks that's quite enough.
whatever the fuck that is ends now.
he corners you, literally, and cages you in with his arms on either side of you.
what the fuck is your problem? (simon, while a killer, knows so much better than to say what other idiots would.)
you avert your eyes, looking over his shoulder, flicking your gaze up to the ceiling, your feet-- anywhere that isn't him because his sunken eyes are gonna slice through whatever lie you're about to spin up.
look at me.
he grabs you by the cheeks hard enough that your lips puckering slightly.
talk.
how are you to tell him you're sexually pent up! you forgot to pack your toy when moving out and now you're stuck with just your fingers and it isn't doing the job--
that it?
oh, man. you said that out loud. you're so out of sorts you can't tell when you're thinking and when you're talking. and what the hell does he mean that it?
he tells you that the both of you are fixing that up today, to take of your bottoms or he'll tear them off you himself and to sit on the bloody couch.
legs open. wider. what're you blushin' about? you're mine anyway. is it johnny? he's stayin' out f'the nigh', go' some business with price. hands on your pretty cunt. go on. do it or i will.
good. touch your-- why are ya wincin'? is it dry? here, gimme ya hand.
simon's saliva has been pooling in his mouth since he saw your naked sex.
try it now. good? good. now let me see how you touch yaself.
*wheeze*
simon being a pal and not pointing out how you obeyed him without question because if you don't know that you like to be ordered about, he ain't telling ya.
oh my god the walk of shame to prices office the next day once simon wrings out all of your ire with his fingers. the stare he gives you when you mumble out an apology. the once over he gives you before shifting his gaze over to simon, who's throwing down with kyle in the ring.
right. not an issue, love. next time you're tha' irritable, you can come to me.
simon didn't hear that but laswell did, and she pulls you to the side telling to not, under any circumstance, tell simon what john just said to you.
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rebeliz7 · 2 days
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Dress
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader 
Request: 90 sounds sexy and I want that with Wanda. 👀
90. “Please, remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?”
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“Please, remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?” Wanda moans as you sneak your hand under her dress, and she wraps her arms tighter around you. 
“Do you really care why?” You ask against her ear, as your fingers slip down her slit and the lavender smell of her shampoo fills your senses. “Christ! You’re so wet.”
“Don’t tease.” She whines, making you smile at her growing desperation. 
Not that you aren’t desperate yourself, you are. It’s been such a long day, and undercover work is mostly fun but when your fiance wears the kind of dress that she’s wearing today, it becomes torture for you. 
You infiltrated an exclusive party in a fancy yacht, where you were surrounded by A list actors and producers and directors, that would have made you a bit excited to meet if you weren’t here to gather intel on one of the biggest mob bosses in modern history.
You both got in under the pretense of being the granddaughters of an acclaimed award winner director, who occasionally doubles as an informant for S.H.I.E.L.D. Now you are in the mansion of one of those actors, waiting till everyone else leaves so you can do your job and install a few cameras, so you can finally begin to build a substantial case against these people. 
With a swift movement of your wrist you slip one finger inside of her, making her gasp as she clings onto you for support. She’s so ridiculously wet that the thought of tasting her makes you feel so thirsty, and almost desperate to be back home. 
“I can’t believe we’re doing this here,” she says with a smile as you move to capture her lips in a messy kiss. 
“This dress is ridiculously nice,” you tell her before you drop to your knees and she smiles mischievously, her hands on your shoulders as she leans against the truck, her bottom lip caught between her lips as she gets ready. 
“Accessible too.” She laughs as you run your hands up her legs, and she spreads her legs a little wider for you. 
“Would you two please, please turn off your coms?” Natasha’s voice comes through and Wanda pushes your shoulders instinctively, as you stand up quickly, heart in your throat. 
“Jesus, Romanoff!” You huff as Wanda hides her blushing face in your chest, and you struggle to get air back into your lungs. 
“The dress is sinful, we all agree, but you two are on a mission.” She says and you can hear the amusement in her tone, and you’d laugh but - 
“We?” You ask softly, Wanda’s hands gripping your waist as you run your hands down her back to calm her down. 
“Sorry,” Natasha says and laughter booms in your ear, laughter from the boys back at base. “But what did you two expect?” Natasha laughs softly, and Wanda whines against your chest. 
“Not for you all to act like adults, for sure.” You tell them and Wanda finally looks up at you, she’s still blushing but there’s a smile on her face now. 
“I can always just erase this memory from your heads,” she says lightly and Natasha groans, loudly. 
“Did you notice the guests are leaving? It’s time to move.” 
“We’re on it.” You speak before you push the little button close to your ear, and Wanda does the same.
“We’re never gonna hear the end of it,” she says as you kiss her softly. 
“Screw them.” You shrug and she chuckles, she knows how little you care about the opinion of others. “Let’s do this fast.” You kiss her again. “I can’t wait to taste you and finally get this dress off of you.”
“Turn. Off. Your. Coms.” Natasha’s voice has you pulling back again, and true to her word, you totally missed the off button. 
… 
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ashersanity · 2 days
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— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”
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— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.
— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little.
— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.
— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”
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Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.
Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.
“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.
“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.
Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—
“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”
Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.
“Bailey.”
“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.
“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”
One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.
“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.
“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.
“Hey freak, its your turn.”
Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?
“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.
“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.
Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.
The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.
As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.
The walls here felt unbearably bare.
Like the people that lived in it.
Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.
Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.
Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.
You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.
Were you?
Whitney was the first to change that.
From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.
The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.
Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.
Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.
Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.
You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.
Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.
Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.
So why not make it happen?
It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.
A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.
“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.
“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.
Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”
“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.
Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?
How cute.
“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”
“..What?”
Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.
So, fuck it all, right?
With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.
Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.
Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.
Fucking fuck, you were hard.
And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.
“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”
No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.
But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.
“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.
It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.
Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.
All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.
A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.
Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.
“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.
It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.
That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.
All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.
Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.
A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.
It suits you, really.
“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”
“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.
Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.
For that, he should be properly training you then.
“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.
So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”
Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?
Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.
Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.
‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.
..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?
Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.
So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.
So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.
Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.
Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.
“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.
Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.
“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?
Would it?
Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?
“Ky—?”
Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—
“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”
As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.
The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it’s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.
“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.
So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.
“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.
“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?
Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”
“B-Big brother—“
As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.
“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.
Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.
“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“
And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”
“Did you?”
“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?
“..Good.”
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kook!reader and jj, in which reader gets jj a job and country club but the other kooks are pretty mean to him :( .
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warnings: light flirting, fighting, rafe is jealous you like jj and not him, name calling
“so how are they treating you here?” you took a seat at the bar where jj was making a round of drinks. “how do you think?” he looked up from under the wisps of his hair. “okay, cool it with the sass. i was just asking.” he shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “look, i appreciate you getting me this job and all, but this shit blows,” jj glanced in the corner where rafe and his friends were dowing their beers, “and those assholes are the worst part of it all.” you turned around, rolling your eyes when rafe blew you a kiss.
“they’re so annoying, just ignore them jayj.” you sighed, eyeing the veins on his arms. “at least you look hot in your uniform.” jj pushed one of those fruity drinks you liked in front of you, leaning in as he did so. “you think so?” you hummed, a smile forming on your lips as he trailed his fingers down the side of your wrist. “yeah, i like-” before you could finish your sentence, a familiar, aggravating voice cut you off. “i see you’re still doing charity work for this piece of trash.” rafe took a seat next to you, fully aware of the way jj was glaring at him.
“how about you run back there to the kitchen and get us something to eat like you’re supposed to, pogue.” rafe spat the last word, his lip curling in disgust before landing his focus back on you. “do you always have to be an ass?” you shrugged him off, silently begging jj not to do what you knew he was fully capable of. “getting food isn’t in my job description, moron. i think you’d know that if you actually filled out an application.” jj winked, making rafe scoff. “why would i when we have people like you who need it more than i ever will?”
“rafe get out of here, seriously.” you shooed him, only for jj to intervene. “people like me? people who don’t have to depend on their daddy still?” you sighed when you saw rafe get up, his friends all somehow making their way over in unison. “let’s not do this, please, let’s just go jay.” you adjusted your little purse on your shoulder, motioning for jj to follow you out. “jay? you have a nickname for this loser?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “you know your parents would never approve of this scumbag.” jj reached over the bar, grabbing rafe by the collar of his shirt.
you stepped in front of rafe’s friends before they could team against jj. “and if her parents knew who you really were, they wouldn’t approve of you either. how does it feel knowing y/n will never choose you?” jj smiled. rafe was seeing red at this point. pulling his fist back, rafe swung and landed a punch square on jj’s cheek. the club then broke out into complete chaos. while rafe and jj were full on fighting with nothing but the bar between them, you were pushing rafe’s friends, telling them to let rafe and jj handle their business alone.
“what the hell is going on here?!” the director of the whole place came rushing in, his face beet red as he glared at jj. “just a little falling out, sir. they’re already done.” you flashed him a sweet smile, hoping he could just drop it. “you let go of that cameron boy right now, young man! his father is a very generous patron here,” rafe smirked as jj shoved him away, “and give me that apron, you’re done.” you sighed, shoulders falling in defeat as jj rounded the corner of the bar. this is officially the third job jj has gotten fired from on figure eight.
you followed jj as he balled up the material, chucking it in the director’s chest. “good, this job fuckin’ sucked.” you gasped, apologizing for him as you two walked out of the country club. “what the fuck?!” you stopped him, pulling his shoulder so he could face you. “look, i’m gonna do my own thing on the cut, and get money how i want to, alright? this shit isn’t for me. if you want to be mad at me for how i reacted towards rafe, fine, but i’m done with figure eight.” you watched him get on his dirt bike, pinching the bridge of your nose as he rode through the flowers.
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leviismybby · 20 hours
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Cat and Mouse
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Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering
Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.
"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.
"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.
"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.
You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.
His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.
And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.
The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.
He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.
Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.
He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.
The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."
You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.
Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.
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gglitch1dd · 2 days
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How would Dilf Izuku react if anything happened to reader when she is in labor? For example maybe she faints because she’s losing too much blood (sorry if this doesn’t make sense)
(Sorry for answering so late Anon)
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Interesting thing about DILF Izuku is the fact that he is there for EVERY single birth. He is there. He gets the call from the hospital saying that you're in labour and he literally tells his PA that he's officially on leave and no one can say otherwise.
After the first two times, he's gotten the hang of what he's supposed to do and what his role is as your husband. He takes his job very seriously.
He's there to hold you whenever you want him to.
He's an errand boy and he picks up the articles of clothing that you end up throwing off yourself during labour.
He's the object to your verbal abuse while in labour. Yes, he knows it's his fault. Yes, he knows you want to kill him. Yes, he knows that this is another sprout you got to push out of your vajayjay. Yes, he still loves you. Yes, he's going to shut up now.
He supports you with loving words. He's right there by your side. He's scared shitless but he doesn't show it because he knows that you need him to be strong when you feel so helpless to the force of nature that his child birth.
Don't faint. Just sit there and look pretty.
Those are the jobs he has listed for himself among many others like make sure his mom is looking after the boys and have the baby bag ready and not to get a speeding ticket while doing so.
Your final pregnancy with Koda was a scary one. Mostly because you were high risk at the time and other than a small fainting scare, you were fine. Everything was fine. The labour was normal and you delivered the baby safe and sound.
A squealing and crying little baby boy that had deep forest green hair and a set of pipes to wake up the dead. He was beautiful and Izuku was so proud of you. He held you with gentle kiss to the top of your head, tears in his eyes at the sight of his new baby boy.
And for five minutes, everything was perfect. Your son was placed on your chest and the three of you were together. Father, mother and son.
Until suddenly, nothing was okay.
"Izuku..." Your voice was breathy as you raised your hand to hold his arm.
Izuku looked away from his son to you. "Yes?" It took less than a second and Izuku knew that nothing was okay. You weren't okay. You were fading, and you were fading fast. Your eyes were fluttering and suddenly your heart rate was declining. He stood up straight. "Y/N. Y/N! Y/N stay with me." He shouted as one of the nurses went running to check on your vitals.
One of the midwives took the baby out of your arms, the newborn's face twisting into a cry at the shouting.
You tried looking at your husband and you tried focusing on him but your breaths were too slow and far between and your eyes were too heavy to stay open. Izuku held your hand, frozen, trying to figure out what was happening. Why weren't you awake anymore?
Why were you still bleeding?
What did the doctor say? Why were you still here?
Why was he just standing there. Why did he let them position him away from you?
Why couldn't he hear a thing?
His wife was there! You were right there! Yet he was... helpless.
And that's when the sinking terror settled in. The reminder that as a father, Izuku could do nothing when it came to this process. He could do nothing. He wasn't a doctor, he wasn't a nurse, he wasn't God. He could do nothing but watch as his beautiful wife, his beautiful loving wife, mother to five of his children, lay there as they tried to stop the bleeding and wake you up.
Izuku moved to grab onto your hand again, and he prayed. He prayed so hard that his mother would probably be impressed right about now.
How a man who had everything, who had the money, got the fame, the influence, the wife, the kids, the family that he wanted, was reduced to nothing but tears and begging for you to not leave him.
Your eyes opened as you turned to look at your right hand. Holding your hand in a death grip was the hands of your husband. You could only see the head of his hair as he seemed to be kneeling at the side of your bed. You heard him muttering and saying something but you weren't exactly sure.
You raised an eyebrow. "Izuku?"
Your husband raised his head, and that's when you saw his beautiful green eyes were red with tears as they just fell from his eyes. He looked up at you as if you were a ghost for a moment before a sob came out of his mouth as he pulled your hand to his face. He cried and you didn't know why he was crying.
Didn't you just take a nap?
"Izu, are you okay?" You asked him gently. "Why are you crying? Where's the baby?" You asked looking around. Your body felt heavy but that was labour for you.
Izuku couldn't let go of you. "Oh thank God." He let out with a sigh. He kissed the back of your hand as he refused to look away from you.
-Glitch1d
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lot-of-nothing · 2 days
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Entwined (Ch. 6)
Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Protective Mel <3
Warnings: Smut, flirting, arguments, and working through internalized homophobia
Author’s Note: THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MYGOD. @icannolongercountmyfandoms is the one you can thank for a new chapter bc she LITERALLY threatened me with BODILY HARM /j
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5
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A soft knock on your office door drew your attention from your desktop monitor to the sweet face of Melissa Schemmenti. You had been ordering parts on a vehicle currently in your shop when her presence delightfully interrupted your work. 
Leaning back in your desk chair, you rest your hands on your thighs as you look her over. She wore leather pants and a form fitting top that only reminded you that it had been weeks since you last fooled around with the beautiful redhead. You spoke with a smirk, your eyes obviously wandering to admire her entire body, “What do I owe the pleasure of having Ms. Schemmenti in my office?”
Mel adored the way you stared, allowing the door to shut behind her as she inched deeper into the office. Her eyes scanned the walls littered with articles about the auto shop that had been in business for decades - opened by your great-uncle in the 70s. She murmured her reply without looking at you, “Just thought I’d drop by...” 
“I saw you less than 12 hours ago. I can’t believe you miss me already.” Your eyes were glued to her ass as she turned her back to you. 
Melissa kept her back to you as she spoke, slowly walking the perimeter of the office to skim the framed headlines. She returned the playful banter with a monotone, “I’m just here to make sure you are doin’ your job and not just daydreamin’ about me all day.”
“I have time for both.” You tease, earning a sideways glance and eye roll from the redhead. 
When she was done touring the office, she perched herself at the edge of your desk. Your response was to move your office chair closer while simultaneously leaning backwards, stretching out to allow Melissa’s eyes to skim over you. 
“Enjoying the view?” You asked.
“I am.” Her arms folded over her chest as a mischievous smirk grew on her lips. Mel’s eyes flickered from your shoulders, over your chest, allowing her eyes to linger before drifting back to your face, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”
You give a shrug, teasing her, “That happens when you don’t call before 8pm.” 
Your comment had more bite than you intended, but Melissa didn’t seem to take it too personally. She brushed her hair over her shoulder before placing both of her hands on the arms of your chair and looming over you, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”
Rather than meet her intense green hues, you admired her cleavage with no effort to conceal your desires. “What do you have in mind?” Melissa’s demeanor changed with a playful laugh. You could’ve sworn you felt her purring as her face drifted closer to yours. Her nose and lips brushed against yours before she scantily pulled away, “A little weekend getaway. You, me, and a cheap, little hotel right on the beach in Atlantic City.” 
You cocked your head with a shit eating grin across your face, “Are you asking me on a date?” 
Her response contained no hesitation or nervousness. Rather she seemed incredibly satisfied with herself, “I am.” 
“Then say it.” Your demeanor was entirely too confident for Melissa’s liking, and you could tell this was the case as her brows narrowed as she stared you down. Her stubborn nature had her fall silent, searching your face to see how serious you were. You confirmed your serious intentions as you returned her intimidating gaze, “Go on.”
The redhead glared for a few seconds longer before straightening her back and softening her features, “Will you go on a date with me?”
“Why, I thought you would never ask.” To reward Mel for her behavior, you rose from your chair, pressing a brief kiss to her lips that threatened to cause Melissa’s cheeks to flush red.
“What in the hell is this?” A voice and a banging on the window to your office caused Melissa to jump from your lap to prevent anyone from seeing how cozied up you had been with one another. 
With a wave of frustration now coursing through your veins, you rose from your chair and strode to the door, opening it to face a disgruntled customer. He pushed a piece of paper stained with the vaguely familiar markings of the autoshop printer into your face. You quickly pushed away his hand and failed to provide his aggression with kind customer service, “It looks like a receipt.”
He pointed at the receipt, raving about the additional charges tacked onto the original cost of fixing his vehicle, “What the hell are all of these extra charges? You said it was gonna cost $300 and now you’re charging me over $500!”
You only shrugged at his frustrations, leaning away from him as he threatened your bubble of personal space once again as you tried to explain the additional charges. You hadn’t noticed Melissa lingering in the doorway behind you, silently fuming at the way the customer was speaking to you, “We told you when you dropped it off that you gotta pick it up within 24 hours or else we charge ya’ for parking. You left the Buick here for over a week, man. We aren’t a public parking lot. We need the space for other customers.”
“Where’s your fuckin’ manager?”
“I am the fuckin’ manager.”
You returning his energy wasn’t something he took kindly. He waded up the bill and tossed it aside before pushing his finger into your chest, “If you think for a goddamn minute I will be paying this bill, you have another thing comin’. I don’t need some bitch robbing me of my hard earned money.” The second he touched you, Melissa rounded your side and came to stand between you and the man. Her hands were balled into fists and perched on her hips as she stared defiantly up at the man who stood two feet taller than her. You glanced down and noticed gripped in one of her hands was a baseball bat you kept tucked behind your desk, “Is there a problem here?”
The man gave a tired sigh, waving a hand in Melissa’s face. Little did he know that his waving hand was akin to the red flag waving in the face of a raging bull, “Get lost, red. It’s none of your business.”
With one swift movement she lifted the bat, allowing it to slide in her hand so she gripped the barrell, shortening it enough that she could poke him in the chest with it. You watched her lean back and forth as she threatened him - a genetic trait of Schemmenti’s as they threatened people. “The second you decided to start with the name callin’ it became my problem. I suggest you pay up before your car ends up with more problems than what you came in with.”
He made the worst possible decision as he placed his hands on his knees, speaking to Melissa as if he were talking to a child. “Stay the hell out of this. This is between me and your girlfriend.”
Melissa stared him down for a fraction of a second before snapping. She allowed the bat to slide back down in her hand so she could grip the handle and lift the aluminum bat above her head, ready to strike. You were lucky you had your eyes glued to her rather than the unwelcome customer so you had the time to loop one arm around her waist while the other raised to grip the barrel of the bat. 
“No, no, no, no!” You scolded, tugging her back towards the office while some of the boys working in the shop intervened. 
Mel barely gave up a fight against you, rather she stared down her new mortal enemy with a vitriol you had yet to see on her face before. When she was finally in the office, you released her while tearing the bat from her grasp lest she have any ideas about slipping past you to exact her revenge.
Knowing she was now trapped in your office, she began pacing back and forth with a rage you could feel radiating off her. You leaned against the door, watching her traverse your office like a caged wildcat which only made you smile. With a lighthearted tone, you tried to calm her, “Easy, tiger.”
Melissa whipped around to face you, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she was clearly unhappy with your decision to prevent her from teaching that guy a lesson. She stared up at you with a defiance that you found incredibly endearing, and what was even more endearing was the way she continued fighting for you, “He can’t just talk to you like that!”
“Don’t give it too much thought. I deal with guys like that all the time.” You calmly brush off the encounter, remembering countless situations wherein things escalated much further and you were called far worse. Leaving the bat by the door, you approach the seething woman with a serenity that cooled her boiling anger. 
The redhead refused to respond to you and her eyes studied the calendar on the wall to avoid meeting your own. She folded her arms over chest and you watched her demeanor shift from simmering anger to pouty eyes begging for your attention. 
Taking her face in your hands, you lift her face towards you and press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her into a tight hug, “I promise you. It’s okay.”
--
You drop your phone down onto the bed when Melissa walks out only wearing an oversized sweatshirt. The bagginess of the clothing hid everything and you were ready to help her out of it as quickly as she put it on. You gestured for her to come to your side of the bed, “Just when I think you can’t get more gorgeous, you walk out looking like that.” 
Melissa crawled into bed with you, straddling your lap for a moment to give you hope before sliding off to land on her side of the bed, “I have work in the morning. I don’t need any of your funny business. ”
You ‘tsked’ her response and pulled away the covers so she wouldn’t be able to hide. You rapidly maneuvered so you would be on your knees before her so your hands could guide her thighs open. She was smirking as she put up no fight against your efforts. She even lifted her sweatshirt to reveal more of herself to you; that move alone told you she wasn’t truly opposed to your ‘funny business’.
Settling onto your stomach, you lean your cheek against her thigh, staring intently at her panties, “Funny business? There is nothing funny about this...”
“Mm… Prove it.” A manicured hand wove into your hair, drawing your face closer to her heat. Her back arched involuntarily and caused her hips to shift downwards closer to your mouth. 
“Happily.” You murmured, hooking your fingers around the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down her legs the best you could. They were at her knees when you lowered your face to her cunt once again. As a professional in pleasuring Melissa, you skillfully wound your arms around her thighs before using your fingers to spread her cunt open for your tongue to go to work. 
You felt Melissa’s thighs squeeze your head for a moment as she worked to remove her underwear without trying to impact your ability to give head. The feeling of her legs around her head drove you insane. You tried to let her know how much you craved her as your hands shifted back to her thighs so you could feel your fingers compress into her soft flesh. 
Melissa relaxed back into the bed, completely melting into your touch. Her hands rose above her head to grip the bed frame - a silent way of giving you complete control. 
She was already sleepy from your lovemaking from nearly an hour ago, so this time Mel was far less energetic and performative. It was mesmerizing watching her head softly turn back and forth while soft breathy moans escaped her mouth. This was exactly what made Melissa so addicting for you. 
You watched her crane her neck so she could press her face into her pillow to catch the fabric between her teeth. In response, you swirl your tongue around her clit before giving her clit a hard suck. She gave a strained and exhausted growl that faded into a quiet whine - her quietness all centered around preventing her roommate from hearing.
You attempted to move your mouth away to give her reprieve, but her hips lifted off the mattress to impede too much separation.
Part of you wondered how far you could push Melissa. To satiate your curiosity, you gently scraped your teeth against her clit, earning a hiss then a whiney moan. You were clearly pushing your luck with how much she could handle. When you continued with your teasing licks, your eyes flickered back up to her face to enjoy the view. Her chest was heaving and her bottom lip jutted out into a pathetic pout as her hips began grinding against your tongue as she sought out an orgasm. 
For a split second you considered confessing your love to Melissa like you did all those years ago, but you kept yourself from doing so. She needed to come to you. Instead you opted to pay her a compliment instead, “You’re so good for me, pretty girl…”
Your heart fluttered as you watched a smile spread across her face. She then attempted to silence a rumble deep in her throat and hide her simper, but it was fruitless as the compliments continued falling off your lips. You breathily mumbled about her hips and thighs, briefly pausing to stroke your tongue up and down her drippy cunt, and continued your mad ramblings about how beautiful you found her to be.
In your moments of desperation, your words had caused Melissa’s face to grow hot from embarrassment. It was easy accepting compliments when the moment lacked the vulnerability of sex and nudity, but when your face was buried between her legs the flattering remarks felt all too real. She tried to brush them aside, only to have them linger at the outskirts of her mind. 
As you refocused your attention on her clit with the addition of two fingers gently inching deeper into her pussy, Melissa was struggling to escape the thoughts of your feelings towards her. She despised how light it made her feel. She hated that she felt herself being drawn closer to orgasm from the adoration she felt from you. 
Her fierce independence was battling the all-consuming craving to feel desired.
While you were not privy to her inner turmoil, you only worked harder to bring her pleasure. Your fingers gently curled within her, stroking that special spot you discovered during your youth. A coil tightened within Melissa, her hand shooting down to grip your spare wrist to steady herself. 
You chose to lose yourself in giving head once again. Her breasts gently shook with each light shift of her body - a mesmerizing sight. You were lapping and kissing at her clit softly as you hoped to draw out this experience as much as possible. However, Melissa was unable to take anymore as an orgasm washed over her and her back swiftly lifted off the bed and quickly arched back into the mattress, pushing her hips to your mouth. 
You slowed down the movements of your tongue, but you didn’t stop entirely. You wanted to slowly bring her down from her peak (and selfishly you wanted you to continue enjoying the feeling of her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head). When her back finally relaxed against the mattress, you slipped your hand from her cunt to reluctantly help guide her thighs into a resting position. You gave her thighs a couple of gentle bites, encouraging to ease up on you, “Come on, pretty girl…”
Melissa whimpered as her legs shakily parted, nervous you would attempt to continue regardless of her exhaustion. You only nuzzled her thighs, slowly smothering them with kisses in a way that gave Melissa butterflies. 
She was quick to try and move herself out of such a vulnerable position. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m already way up past my bedtime.” Melissa gave your arm a pat, encouraging you to get up as she shifted her hips to the left as if she were attempting to move off the bed. 
You rolled off the redhead and sat up, taking that as her subtle hint for you to head home. After following Melissa to the bathroom and using the sink to wash your face and hands, you began gathering your clothes to make your exit. This only confused the redhead as she pulled back the comforter for both sides of the bed as she expected you to join her, “Whered’ya think your goin’?”
“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you began removing your sweatpants that you just put on. You undressed and joined the redhead in bed, earning a satisfied hum from her. 
When you were settled on your back, Melissa was on her side facing away from you. She found a way to make physical contact with you by backing up in bed so her back was pressed to your side. She shifted in bed for a few moments as she tried to find a comfortable position, and after she did she mumbled sleepily, “Be warned. I wake up at 6.”
You started your sentence mid-yawn, “That’s a shocker.”
She had one final quip for you as sleep threatened to overtake her, “I don’t just wake up looking this beautiful.” 
With a chuckle, you gave her ass a pat, mumbling out your final few words before allowing yourself to enjoy some silence before you fell asleep, “I doubt that…”
--
You woke up the next morning with Melissa already off to work, but when you checked your phone you had a message from Mel waiting for you. 
Melissa: Couldn’t bear to wake you up. You should have told me you were that cute when you slept. I would’ve let you stay sooner.
Y/N: I don’t believe that for a second. 
Y/N: Don’t worry. I’m getting ready right now and I’ll be out soon. 
You quickly sent the second message as you didn’t want to seem too over confident nor did you want to overstay your welcome. 
Melissa: No rush. There is lunch for you in the fridge. I marked the tupperware.
You grinned at your phone like a lovestruck idiot. Quickly you threw on your clothes and wandered down to the kitchen to see what Melissa had left for you in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf was undoubtedly a tupperware full of her insanely good spaghetti with a bright pink sticky note stuck to the top marked with your name and a little heart.
Y/N: Thank you! Will I see you later?
Melissa: Open house tonight. See you Saturday? 
Melissa: I’ll let you take me to dinner.
The thought of waiting two days to see Melissa next was brutal, but you would take what you got as rarely did she ever make plans with you in advance. 
Y/N: Let me? What an honor.
Melissa: Believe me. I know.
You were smiling at your phone through the rest of the day as Melissa texted you about little things happening at school. Sometimes the stories she told you about Abbott were hard to believe. 
Her attention made you feel lovesick as you were constantly checking your phone, smiling at the thought of her getting into shenanigans and doing her terrible impressions for her work friends. The thought of going on a weekend getaway with her was only sounding better and better.
Taglist: Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom
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