#[i was okay this morning i swear what happened
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reignpage · 2 days ago
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Lying To Himself
Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence
You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye. 
“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”
And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.
The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines. 
“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face. 
A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.
He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to be balls naked in their own kitchen.
"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.
Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."
His friend gives him a look, half amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.
It’s been great. Really fucking great. 
You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and making sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you. 
It’s fine. 
At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.
More days pass just like that. 
And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring, obnoxiously loud. It’s like he's suddenly realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the mornings that’s always greener than the last. 
His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack when it’s not from you. 
“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”
The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say as if you’re yapping right in his ear. 
“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake as fuck. What was the fucking budget for this shit?”
Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways? 
When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye nowadays. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up. 
“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”
Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that. 
Instead, he eats on the sofa or in his car.
Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question. 
“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”
He gets two nights of decent sleep after that.
But then…
The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood. 
But what they don’t know is that you texted, just a day before you’re set to come back, to let him know you’re staying another week. 
Fucking texted. 
Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice. 
He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out. 
Everyone knows he’s losing his mind. They can tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he’s started snapping at women who are either flirting or just doing their jobs. And sometimes they even have to block his view of couples practising PDA. That’s the closest to hell they ever want to get around Toji. Suddenly, everyone’s hoping you throw the guy a bone and send a nude or something. Literally anything to rein him back in.
The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home. 
“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”
Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh. 
The door handle rattles. 
He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing. 
You’re here. 
“Hey, Toji—“
Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble. 
“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”
His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute. 
“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”
“No.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”
Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat. 
“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”
“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion. 
He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”
Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason from keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”
Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.
It’s almost like…
No. 
It can’t be. 
Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure. 
Toji missed you. 
An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better. 
Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.
Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you. 
“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts. 
Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home. 
Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.
He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready with the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.
“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.” 
And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says, 
“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”
Yeah, this man totally missed you. 
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rafedarling · 1 day ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
pairing: husband!rafe cameron x wife!reader
summary: rafe cameron was your everything, your husband, the man who once promised to love and cherish you unconditionally. despite your inability to speak, rafe always treated you as though the world revolved around you. but your perfect life comes crashing down on an ordinary monday when you…
warning(s): reader in this fic are mute, so if you felt uncomfortable please click back, will see you on jan 9. infidelity, emotional distress, angst.
must read: italic mean sign language.
au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. i don’t know but this idea came up after i went to the toilet 🫠 i’m tagging no one since i’m writing this for fun and might deleted if i felt it’s needs to be remove and hope you enjoy!! 🌟 . taglist | ask
Just like any other Monday. You were sitting on the edge of your bed you reached for your phone to check the time. That’s when you saw it… a text message from an unknown number.
You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the notification. You weren’t one to invade someone’s privacy, even Rafe’s, but something about this felt… off. When you finally opened it, your entire world shattered.
The message began with ‘Hi, I’m Sofia. I didn’t want to do this, but I think you deserve to know.’
You froze, dread pooling in your stomach as you continued reading. Sofia laid everything out; dates, times, even explicit details. She wasn’t apologetic; her tone carried the confidence of someone who knew she had already won.
Sofia wasn’t just anyone.
She was the friend Rafe had introduced you to months ago, the one he’d reassured you was “just a friend.” She was gorgeous, effortlessly confident, and everything you weren’t.
Most painfully, she could speak.
The betrayal hit you like a tidal wave. You stared at your phone, your breath hitching your so tight you couldn’t even breath.
You wanted to scream, cry, or yell so badly but you couldn’t. That had always been your curse your inability to voice your pain.
Instead, you stormed downstairs, gripping your phone tightly. Rafe sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone while sipping coffee, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you.
When he saw you, his face lit up.
“Morning, babe,” he said casually, his tone warm and easy.
You didn’t respond. Instead, you slammed your phone onto the table, the screen still displaying Sofia’s message. His eyes flicked to the text, and the color drained from his face.
“What”
He reached for the phone, but you yanked it away, glaring at him as your hands began to move.
“Who is Sofia? And don’t you dare lie to me.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Babe, it’s not”
“Don’t!” you signed sharply, your movements quick and angry.
“Do not call me that right now. Answer the question. Who is Sofia?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his hand raking through his hair.
“She’s… She’s no one. She doesn’t mean anything.”
So you admit it happened.
“I—” He faltered, his eyes pleading.
“It was a mistake, okay? A stupid mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”
You stepped back, shaking your head as tears burned your eyes.
“How could you?” you signed, your movements slower now, weighed down by heartbreak.
“I trusted you. I loved you. Was that a mistake too?”
“No!”
Rafe’s voice cracked, and he took a step toward you, his hands reaching out as if to ground you.
“It wasn’t a mistake. You weren’t a mistake. I swear. You’re my everything.”
“Clearly not,” you signed, bitterness dripping from your fingers. If I was, you wouldn’t have done this.
He pressed his palms against his temples, exhaling shakily.
“I don’t know why I did it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was stupid, I was feeling… I don’t know, lonely?”
“Lonely?” Your hands froze mid-motion, your eyes wide with disbelief.
“You think I don’t feel lonely? I live in silence, Rafe. Every day. And yet I stayed. I fought for us. But you…” You stopped, your chest heaving as fresh tears slid down your cheeks.
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking.
“I know, and I hate myself for it. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of it.”
“Then why wasn’t I enough?” you signed, your movements trembling.
“What does she have that I don’t?”
Rafe looked devastated, his hands dropping to his sides.
“Nothing,” he said firmly.
“She doesn’t have anything you don’t. You’re everything to me.”
“Clearly not enough for you to keep your promises.”
He stepped closer, his voice urgent. “Please, don’t leave.”
You stared at him, your heart breaking into a million pieces. The Rafe standing before you now was a shadow of the man you thought you knew, and yet, his desperation was tangible. Part of you wanted to believe him, to cling to the love you’d shared for so long. But the pain was too raw, the betrayal too fresh.
You wiped your tears, turning toward the door.
“Wait,” Rafe called, his voice shaking as he followed you.
“Where are you going?”
You paused, turning to meet his tear-filled eyes. Your hands moved slowly, deliberately, as you signed one final word
“Away.”
“Don’t,” he begged, his voice breaking.
“Please, give me one last chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you how sorry I am.”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you opened the door and stepped out of the door, leaving Rafe behind.
But this time, love wasn’t enough.
And for the first time in years, the silence between you felt unbearable.
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magicalbuttertarts · 2 days ago
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*Christmas Morning*
"You all good baby?" Damian asked me as he stood in front of me. I was in my spot on the couch, watching as our children were tearing into their gifts that we got them.
Sebastian and Adan were helping Elena and Benito open their bigger gifts that they received from other family members who could not make it to our place later.
"I am fine Damian." I told him, hoping my voice didn't change as I looked up at him.
"I will go start on breakfast. The family will be here in a couple of hours." Damian told me as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
I closed my eyes savouring the moment, because I know once I tell him that I am in labour, he is not going to be happy with me.
We ate a delicious breakfast of mallorcas, which is a special treat we have a few times a year, we got dressed for the day. The last time we had them was the day I told Damian I was pregnant with baby number 5.
I was sitting back in my usual seat, per the order of my husband.
I was watching Elena play with Stitch toy that moves, when I heard our two oldest start to complain.
"Oh Dad, that is disgusting." Adan said.
"Yeah, come on. There are kids here." Sebastian said, adding on to his brother's complaints.
I looked over and saw what my dear husband was wearing and I let out a loud laugh at what he was wearing.
I get why the boys are upset, but it is just a funny sweater.
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"Well, I happen to love the sweater." I said, watching as our sons turned to look at me, with even more disgust on their young faces, but all Damian did was laugh and wink at me.
I went to smile back at him, but a contraction decided to hit right then and there, making me scrunch up my face in pain.
"Mommy, are you okay?" Elena asked me as she showed Benito her new toy, making him grab for it.
"I am fine." I told them, as I breathed through my nose trying not to draw attention to myself.
Without missing a beat, Damian strolled over to me, kneeling down in front of me, and placing his hand on my very pregnant belly.
"When were the first contractions?" He softly asked me.
"Around twoish this morning." I finally told him, making him just sigh at me.
"And how far apart are the contractions?" I told him every ten minutes, so we still had time, but I closed my mouth mid sentence when another contraction hit.
Fuck. This baby is now coming.
Damian was already on the phone, calling for an ambulance as.
I heard him swear and then say sorry to the dispatcher on the phone.
"What is going on?" I called out.
"No available ambulances." Damian told me, as my eyes squeezed shut as a new contraction hit.
"Adan, Sebastian, take your brother and sister to the play room." Damian said, as he rolled up his sleeves to that ridiculous sweater.
"Damian, what are you doing?" I asked him as he was running around the house.
"Just stay right there. Sebastian if you can, move your mother's feet up to the lower part of couch."
Sebastian did as he asked, and I knew what was going on.
I was about to give birth at home.
I found my self laying a top a shower curtain that was ripped down from the guest washroom, towels and blankets all around me.
I could hear the loud music from the playroom as I let out another scream.
Damian was between my spread legs, the dispatcher was still on the phone with him, telling him what to do.
"Get this baby out of me." I cried out, feeling tired.
This has been my fastest birth so far, but I am still feeling tired.
"We are almost done love. Just a few more pushes." Damian said, his voice not once wavering.
I pushed again and again, until it finally happened.
Their cries were loud, making me laugh with relief.
"It's a girl." Damian said as he wrapped her in a towel, and gently placing a blanket over me after he laid her on my chest.
I started to cry when she was in my arms, so happy that she was here safe.
Damian washed his hands before grabbing his phone to let the dispatcher know what was going on.
"Okay. We will wait for them. Yes the front door is open, as is the gate. Thank you." He said before hanging up the phone.
"You did it." I said to myself husband, a watery smile on my face.
"You did it my love." Damian told me as he cleaned up as much of the mess as you could.
The paramedics came rushing in a few minutes later, going over our babygirl and I.
"I will grab the kids and meet you at the hospital. I called our parents and they are telling everyone." Damian said as he kissed me as he walked us out to the ambulance.
We were looked over quickly, and the both of us seemed to be in good health. She is already nursing and just finished as my family walked into my room.
I placed the newest addition to our family in the little bassinet next to my bed.
"You four want to meet your little sister?" Damian asked them, with a proud smile on his face.
"A sister? Santa did give me what I wanted." Elena squealed making Damian and I chuckle.
"What is her name?" Adan asked us.
"Natalie Mia Carina Priest." I said to them as they gathered around her.
Damian stood on the opposite side, gently grabbing my hand as we watched our children meet their baby sister.
"Thank you for giving me the best Christmas gift possible." Damian said as I looked up at him.
He cupped my face and gently kissed me.
"And thank you for everything my sweet husband. Merry Christmas." I muttered against his lips, just before we turned to look at our five beautiful children.
Yes, it is most definitely a Merry Christmas.
Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell @terrortwinunicorn @hotwheels1108 @there-goes-thefighter @claymoresofinfamy23
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Damian Priest x f/Reader
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Warnings: unprotected sex. P in v sex. Oral (f receiving). So much fluff.
WC: 2892
Gifs and photos do not belong to me: title photo is from @lorena26 . The other photo was from Damian's Instagram.
©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.
F/Reader looks back at how her and her husband Damian got together. She was a sorority girl, and he was the hot nerd that couldn't keep a relationship.
I rolled over, slowly placing my hand on his side of the the bed, but I felt just a cold pillow. I opened one eye to see that I was alone, and I instantly knew where he would be.
It also helped that I heard the laughter of second youngest laughing at her father, bringing a tired smile to my face.
I got up and stretched, putting on one of his old star wars tshirts and a pair of his boxers that I have taken for myself, and walked down the hallway towards the sound of kids play room.
I could see him sitting at the sparkly yellow table, with a tiara on his head, a green feather boa over his shoulders, and his glasses on his face as he clicked tea cups with Elena, and then with our youngest, Benito, who was happily clapping his hands in his father's lap, swinging the plastic teacup around, almost hitting my husband in the face.
I smiled as I watched this moment happen between the three of them.
I decided to leave them there and to start on breakfast.
But as I got to the kitchen, I could smell that he already had something in the oven, and my mouth instantly watered as I could smell the Pan de Mallorca baking in the oven.
I decided to leave it alone, already knowing he has a timer on his phone ready to check on it.
I walked towards our family room, enjoying the peace and quiet until the rest of our children woke up.
Knowing our two oldest, they would be in bed until I go and wake them up.
It wasn't very often I get mornings like this, as Damian is away from home most week days.
He built up his own IT Cybersecurity firm, and he has truly worked hard all these years building up his company.
He is proud of it and says that it is one of his greatest accomplishments, but when asked what is greatest accomplishment is, he always says his family.
As I sat in our family room, I looked at all the photos of us throughout the years.
We have photos upon photos on the wall, and they are all wonderful memories, but then my eyes caught the one in the center of it all.
The very first photo Damian and I ever took together.
I couldn't help but think back all those years ago, and how we got together.
It was my last year of university and I was focused on partying along with my sorority sisters.
I was a Legacy, my mother before me was in the same sorority, as was her sisters and my grandmother.
When I first got to University, I didn't want to belong to any sorority, but when I got accepted to the same university as my family members, I knew I would be sought after.
At first I said no, that I didn't want to be apart of it, wanting to be my own person, but then there was problem with the dorms, and I didn't have a place to stay on campus.
So I said yes, and now I am almost done school, having the best time with my sorority sisters.
My GPA is decent, 3.7 so the partying has never gotten in the way of that.
I dated throughout school, but none never seemed to stick. They were basically jocks whose whole life revolved around whatever sport they played and partying.
So for the first time in a long time, I am single, and I promised myself that I was going to be single for my last year and try to focus on school and my friends.
But then Quantum mechanics that last year was kicking my ass.
"You will be assigned a tutor." My Professor said to me, and all I could was agree.
"Who is it?" I asked her.
"Damian Priest."
I have never talked to the guy, but he seemed nice.
I knew he dated a few of my sorority sisters but he never seemed to last long in a relationship.
From what I been told, he is to nerdy.
His room his filled with action figures, movie posters, old text books, and I have only ever seen his nose buried in a book.
But even I can admit, he is freaking good looking.
"Now, I want you to answer a few of these practice questions to see what we are working with." Damian said to me as he handed me the practice test, but it was hard to focus with him sitting across from me.
This is the first time I have gotten a good look at him, and I can see why so many people thought he was good looking.
He probably is the most gorgeous guy on campus and he doesn't even seem to care.
I shook my head and started to work on the practice test.
I was biting my bottom lip as he looked over the test.
"Hmm." Was all he said.
"Did I do okay?" I nervously asked.
He placed the test on the table. "You got just about half right. The ones you got wrong, I will go over how to get the correct answer."
Damian got up from the opposite side of the table, and sat down in the seat next to me, and the smell of his cologne hit my nose, and shit, he smells good.
This is going to be longest day of my life.
One hour of Damian trying to teach me how to get the correct answer, but I was no better off.
"Let's call it a night. I know it was a lot for the first session." He stretched and his shirt lifted and I got a good look at his abs and the bit of the hair disappearing under into his jeans.
I shifted in my seat and to my utter embarrassment, I could feel how soaked my panties were.
That night, once I got to my room, I pulled out my favourite vibrating dildo and came so hard to the thought of Damian.
This went on for weeks.
I would have my tutoring session with him, come home and cum on my favourite toy.
Then one night, it all changed.
It was our turn to throw a party, and it was Halloween.
Damian, the ever kind man, understood why I couldn't make it this week to our tutoring session.
"But next week, let's meet twice." I squealed when he said that, and kissed his cheek.
I pretended not to notice how his cheeks seem to heat up, as he covered his cheek.
"Come to the party." I told him, hoping he would come.
"I don't know." He looked a bit uncomfortable.
"Even for 10 minutes. Come and find me and I won't leave your side."
"I will think on it." He still looked unsure.
"Thank you." I said softly to him.
As the party went on, I kept an eye out for Damian, not knowing if he would be coming or not.
I danced with random guys, but none of them seemed to hold my attention.
The one I just left was just showing me his bicep and I had to hold in my eyeroll.
I turned around after excusing myself from this one-sided conversation, and walked right into a hard chest, their arms wrapped around my waist to keep me from falling backwards.
I looked up, ready to apologise to the person, when I noticed who it was.
"Damian, you came." I exclaimed.
"I figured what was the harm of ten minutes." He joked and smiled back at him.
"I see you and I had a similar idea." I told him, as I looked at the jersey he was wearing.
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"Yes, but I guess you dressed like Dottie from A League of Their Own."
Finally someone who knew where this costume was from.
The song changed, and it was a bit slower than what has been playing most the night.
Damian still had his arms wrapped around my waist.
"You wanna dance?" Damian asked.
"Sure."
Let's just say he didn't leave early as we spent the rest of the night together, until he decided to leave.
I wanted to invite him up to my room, but he kissed my cheek and told me he would see me for our next tutoring session.
I was helping to clean up with the other girls, when my best friend spoke up. "I saw you with Damian last night." I looked over at her, and I noticed she and a few girls were staring at me, hard.
"Yeah, he is a good guy, and he is very good looking."
They muttered in agreement.
"But you know he is a nerd right?" Our sorority president spoke up. I looked over at her, nodding my head yes, knowing he is considered a nerd.
"I dated him for a bit, and things were going smoothly until I went to his room." Another girl said.
"Yes I heard about his nerdy stuff."
"No, you don't understand. He likes going to comic con. He is obsessed with wrestling and even has Star Wars blankets and sheets." Another girl spoke up.
I couldn't help but find that adorable that Damian was bring true to himself, and not letting anyone tell him what he should and shouldn't like.
"We just danced and talked." I wanted this conversation to end.
"Just keep it that way." The sorioty president said, then we went back cleaning up, their words replaying over and over again in my mind.
I cancelled on our next tutoring session, pretending to be sick, and even didn't go to class.
Damian didn't question me, just asked me to get in contact him when I am feeling better.
I didn't respond, but a few hours later, as I was walking to the kitchen, there was a knock on the front door.
I opened up, putting on the sick act and there was a delivery driver there. He said my name and I said that was me.
"Then this is for you." He handed me the paper bag and I saw that it was from the Soup Emporium.
"I didn't order this." I said to him, clearly confused.
"A man by the name of Damian paid for it."
A lump was forming in the back of my throat as I told the driver thank you.
I ate the soup, savouring how delicious it tasted.
I found myself at the entrance to his dorm room that night.
I knew he lived alone, and I knew he was there because his favourite show was on, and it was almost over.
He opened the door, and said my name once I was there.
He went to open his mouth to speak even more, but I grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss, smashing my lips against his.
At first his lips didn't move, and I started to panic thinking I read this all wrong, until he pulled me flush against his body, and kissed me back with as much enthusiasm as me.
"I thought you were sick?" He questioned against my lips.
"Just needed a day." Was all I told him as he pulled me into his room, slamming the door behind me.
I was stuck between him and the door, but I didn't care.
Not when he pushed his hips against me and I could feel how hard and large he was.
"I need you Damian." I whined as he started to kiss way down my neck.
"I need you to, baby." He pulled back, looking me in the eyes.
My hand was covering my mouth as Damian gripped my hips as he fucked me from behind. He was stretching me beyond I have ever been stretched.
I couldn't think about anything but how much I have cum already.
Earlier, Damian had me laying against his Yoda pillows, him between my thighs as he had his strong arm over my stomach, holding me down as he made me cum over and over again with his mouth and fingers.
My one hand was tangled in his hair, grinding my pussy against his face, as my other hand was gripping his Millennium Falcon sheets.
Damian didn't stop until I literally pushed his head away, telling him it was all too much.
He lifted hid face, his mouth and chin soaked with my juices, "I am not done with you." I literally whimpered as he got off the bed and pulled me along with him.
"Feel so good." He grunted from behind, as he slapped my ass, making me cry out his name.
I was so close. My whole body felt like it was on fire as I was close to finishing.
"Come on baby. I can feel you. Cum for me. Come on." He groaned behind me, speeding up his pace making me cry out his name for the final time.
He let out a string of curses as I came around his cock, my pussy fluttering around his cock as I moaned his name like a prayer.
Damian's thrusts became erratic before he pulled out, his hand quickly jerking himself off before he came all over my ass and my back.
I collapsed on his bed, not being able to be on all fours any longer.
He joined me, laying on his side after he cleaned us both up. Damian moved my hair from my face.
"Damian, I like you." I said, not even realising I said anything, which made him chuckle.
"I hope so, because I like you too."
The two of us falling asleep in his bed, but we woke up the next morning, and had our first date, which was a breakfast date.
My sorority sisters weren't happy about him and I being together, but I didn't care.
They started to come around to us being together when he helped the others with their classes.
Two weeks later him and I told each other we loved one another.
Damian was complete opposite and he completed me. He was nerdy, yes, but he was kind, and sweet, and treated me amazing.
I passed my Quantum mechanics class, and my GPA even went up to 3.8, which is what I graduated with.
Damian proposed to me just after we graduated, and we didn't wait to get married.
Our wedding was a mix of traditional like what I wanted and what he wanted.
Our cake topper was us coming out of the Tardis. The flowers weren't even real flowers, they were flowers made out of comic books.
It was the perfect mixture of him and I.
My thoughts were pulled back to the present when I heard the giggly voice of Elena calling for me.
"Say good morning to mommy, Benito." Damian said as he handed me a plate with a piece of Pan de Mallorca.
"Good morning my loves." I told my two youngest, as Damian leaned down and gave me a kiss goodmorning.
"Good morning Mommy." Elena said, as Benito squealed happily in his father's arms.
"Sebastian and Adan still sleeping?" I asked Damian, who nodded his head.
"I will be waking them up soon. They have to get ready for camp." I agreed with him.
"Let's just let then sleep a bit longer. A few more minutes won't hurt them. They are packed already and the bus won't be here until noon."
Sebastian and Adan are on their way to camp, the two of them barely acknowledging their father and I as they rushed past us, out the front door.
Elena and Benito are with Damian's parents.
"We are alone for the day." I said to him as I snuggled into his side.
"Mmmm, the last time we were alone like this was a couple of months ago. Remember?" Damian said as he turned his head to look at me.
"How could I forget. It was the two of us, there was a storm and we lost power. The only light we had was candles."
He pulled me into his lap, and I could feel how hard he was beneath me, making the two of us moan.
"Remember what we did to pass the time?" I asked him, as I leaned forward and nipped his neck, making him shudder.
"Yes, oh lord yes baby." Was all he said as he flipped us around, pinning me against the couch cushions.
"Damian, I have to tell you something." I gasped as he knelt down between my thighs, kissing up and down my thighs.
"I am sure it can wait baby. We are finally alone." He growled.
"I'm pregnant." I told him, making him look at me.
"Really?" He asked surprised.
"Yeah." I smiled, knowing he would be thrilled.
"We have been careful." He was trying to figure out when we didn't use protection.
For a man so smart, sometimes he is a bit slow.
"We were just talking about the time."
"Baby number 5."
"Baby number 5." I squealed out as he wrapped his lips around my clit and started to suck.
My hand gripped the Thor blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch, thanking my lucky stars that I fell in love with the nerdy man of my dreams.
Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell @terrortwinunicorn @hotwheels1108 @there-goes-thefighter @claymoresofinfamy23
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janiedean · 9 months ago
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two episodes of nervous crying your brains out for longer than one hour in the span of three days were not in my bingo card for 2024 when I graduated ten years ago and I would like to frankly get the fuck over myself
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keenestpeach · 8 months ago
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convxction · 2 years ago
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ooc. self reminder to not say i will write. how many times u lil kupo have we said dont say these jinxy words? i didnt do much but i got to send the asks so ... next year i guess (c/ave s/pongbob looking around for jinx.) i will do some cleaning up too on here and mm blog cuz im tired of liking things, sending asks to be dropped or whatever. im not a saint i know but i dont stop talking to you, either. oh no this is too salty isn't it? sorry. i reach out and i reach out but i get my hopes just blegh,u know. all i want is friends for my muses but seems like we aint gonna have them. then toodles. anyway god it is so cold im deceasing i will proceed to sleep in my bed. hopefully it is kinder weather tomorrow for my poor hands and brain.
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all4yoi · 4 months ago
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𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line
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𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )
sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.
part one !
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★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )
"y/n wait!"
heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.
"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.
he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.
"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.
heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.
when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.
it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.
they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!
so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.
he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.
he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.
he needed to fix this, asap.
it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.
"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.
"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.
you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.
"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."
"why would they say that then?"
"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.
heeseung stepped closer.
"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.
"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."
you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.
he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'
"heeseung.."
"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."
you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.
"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.
"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.
"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."
★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )
jay was confused.
the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.
he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.
throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.
walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.
"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"
that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"
"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.
"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.
"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.
he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.
jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.
he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.
your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."
jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.
"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.
"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.
"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.
this way he knew how he'd make things better.
"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.
right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?
"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.
he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.
"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"
you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.
"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.
jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.
"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."
"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.
"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."
new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.
"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.
"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.
"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."
★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )
jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.
he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.
"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.
jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.
he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.
it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.
but jokes were meant to be funny, right?
jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.
your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.
"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.
"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.
jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.
and he hated that.
"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."
"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.
"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.
"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.
"you promise?"
"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)
sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.
it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.
it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.
that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.
guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.
he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.
i deserve it.
he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.
"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.
"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"
sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.
"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.
"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.
"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.
"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."
your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.
"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."
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— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(
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bunbunlovestowrite · 5 months ago
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How the Hashira men react to your neighbor asking you to be quiet
Characters: Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku, Obanai, Gyomei, Giyuu,
Additional shit: Swearing, Sanemi fighting said neighbor, Rengoku being blunt, mentions of sex, ooc mot likely :p
Tengen
He couldn't care less
His whole thing is being flashy and loud so he wants you to be loud
Like it's not his fault that dick is magical
After he shoos your neighbor away he makes sure to be as loud as possible that night
He's pounding into your cunt and you swear your gonna break when he whispers "okay now scream exactly how big my dick is. Don't forget the tip color-"
He gets cut off by you hitting him with the pillow
Way to ruin the mood
But that doesn't stop him and instead he goes harder, making sure the bed creaks loud ASF for your neighbor
"Not my fault he doesn't know how to please a woman." Is his main reason for doing so
He really wants you to scream his name so it's imbedded in your neighbors head
"Morning N/N!" Him to your neighbor from the balcony while your trying to get out of bed and failing
"Actually die." Both you and your neighbor to Tengen
Sanemi
Cares alot
Why the fuck is that limp dick biscuit talking to you and him? Who does he think he is?
You were the one who broke the news to him thankfully cause if Sanemi was the one who opened the door then you'd have to see your husband through glass in a prison
Just kidding. The Slayer corp would get him out of trouble if he didn't do it himself.
Anyways
Sanemi made it his goal to piss your neighbor off as much as possible
Your under him, practically creaming on his cock, and he's slamming the wall yelling "This loud enough yet?! Huh!?"
Not kidding I can see him doing that
He quite literally had you against a window where your neighbors could see him destroying you just to make them mad or uncomfortable, hopefully both.
But then he'd get pissed someone else would see you all naked and fucked out so he settled for the wall next to the window
One day your neighbor, finally having enough, bangs on your door yelling and guess who opens it...Sanemi!!
Good Lord was he waiting for this
It took one punch and the guy was out
Kinda what happens when you put a normal dude against a guy who kills demons for a living
Rengoku
He's a good neutral between caring and not caring
Like he doesn't wanna make your neighbors mad but he also loves hearing your screams
So he tries to keep you quiet during sex but fails since he gets to into it to give a fuck
The next days his loud ass voice wakes you up
"IM SORRY FOR MAKING INCREDIBLE LOVE TO MY WIFE!" He's not being sarcastic thats his genuine apology
Your facepalming and you want to die when you see your neighbor and she can't look at you
"PERHAPS SHES MAD BECAUSE HER HUSBAND CANNOT PLEASE HER!" Rengoku says casually and you know she can hear you from outside in her garden
"Inside voices!" You place your hands over his mouth to try and shut him up.
It works for a bit before he's yelling again
You love your husband but holy shit you wish he would speak normally sometimes
He's actually quiet in bed though
So your the problem (real)
Obanai
I'm not an Obanai fan so forgive me for how bad his section will be
Obanai is a quiet mf, and you're not even that loud
It's your neighbor who was the problem
A little old man whose hearing aids apparently had the power of 67 suns
You and Obanai found this out when he was outside training and your neighbor came over
He was so sweet and polite and even chuckled at Obanai's redness
Obanai cared at first but got over it
You? You make sure to not make a PEEP in bed
Okay that pisses Obanai off but he understands your reasons
At least make a gasp or sum cause he's over here like "Wait does this feel good? Can she feel it? Did I forget where the clit is?"
Brother is STRESSING
Then you cum and he's like "ah"
Then he's like "Did you take it?"
You have to keep yourself from murdering him cause how tf would you fake squirting
Gyomei
Babe I'm not gonna lie, you're a screamer
Gyomei is built like a house and your telling me your just gonna whine and whimper?
NO
Your over here crying and screaming into his chest, neck, the pillow, anything.
And Gyomei loves it!
He can't see your reactions so hearing and feeling them let's him know he's doing good
Gyomei isn't loud but he's not quiet
He'll grunt and moan and praise you, but he's not gonna cry out.
Well he'll cry but you can never tell from what
When the pussy so good you start crying 😭🙏
When your neighbor politely asked you to be a tad bit quieter Gyomei actually laughed
Not in a 'nah we'll keep being loud' way but more of a 'sorry we'll be quiet' way. He also found it hilarious how you actually died of embarrassment.
Don't worry he thinks its endearing
Yet it was kinda hard for him since he enjoyed hearing you
But your touches and now quieter moans made that better
And then there's also you literally drawing blood from his back you were scratching so hard
Giyuu
Holy shit you have never seen him so embarrassed
Like you could shade match his Haori to him and get the exact same color
He was the one your neighbor told and he stopped working when 'loud' and 'moaning' left their lips
If a demon doesn't kill him then his own actions will
Giyuu isn't loud, and he loves that he can make you feel so good that your loud for him.
But he didn't want your neighbor back over at your house so he tried to keep you quiet
You were super confused when he held his hand over your mouth in bed and he just pointed to your neighbors house. Then you got it.
So you nod and try to keep quiet.
You know in school when the teacher tells you and a friend to shut up but they look at you funny and you break?
Yeah that was you
You were riding Giyuu one night and you were loud so he was like "holy shit I love you but please- I can't look our neighbor in the eyes anymore."
And you couldn't help but laugh
Like howling
You calmed down obviously but sex was very giggle filled after that
You've never seen Giyuu so panicked
But give him a week and he'll stop caring
4K notes · View notes
earthtooz · 1 year ago
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x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+゚
in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?
warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.
a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)
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Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 
The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.
“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.
“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”
“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 
“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.
How bothersome. What’s happening to him?
“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.
“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”
“The one for your elective?”
You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”
“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”
“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 
(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)
“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.
You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”
“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 
But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 
(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)
“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.
Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 
The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.
A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.
“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.
“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 
The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.
(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)
You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 
“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 
“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”
“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”
“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”
“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”
“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”
Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”
A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.
Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 
“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 
“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”
The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 
“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”
“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I’m the only one who-”
“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.
Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”
“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”
“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”
A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.
The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”
“Hold on, what does the note say?”
Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?
“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“
Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”
“Sure, but why are you doing-“
“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.
So why weren’t you here?
“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.
You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?
“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.
“Whom?”
You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.
“What?” Alhaitham snaps.
“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”
“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”
Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  
“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”
“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”
“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”
“Because she was sick.” 
“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 
“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”
“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.
Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.
Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 
“You’re not that special.”
A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.
“Listen to me!”
“Fuck off!” 
“Y/n-”
You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 
“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.
“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.
The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”
“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.
“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 
“No one. Now get lost.” 
“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”
“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”
“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”
“-No, no, none of those!”
“Then what?”
Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”
“Huh? Why so annoyed?”
“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”
It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 
“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 
“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”
“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”
“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”
Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.
He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 
You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 
And why are you smiling so happily?
You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).
He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?
He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.
(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)
Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 
“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”
You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 
He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 
“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”
“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 
“What guy?” 
“Your project partner.”
“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.
He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 
“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 
“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 
Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 
Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?
Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.
“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.
Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-
“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 
Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.
“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 
“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”
“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”
“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.
“Nope,” you sigh. 
“Why not?”
“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”
“An apology? Why? What did he say?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 
“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”
“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”
“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”
Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.
“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”
“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 
“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.
Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.
“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”
“When will you just confess to Y/n?”
The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”
“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”
“-what, when?”
“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 
“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”
“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”
“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 
“So why aren’t you apologising?” 
“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”
“Jealous, much?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”
“But, we are just friends-”
“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”
The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 
“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”
A sharp click rings through the room.
Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 
(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.
What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?
Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.
“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.
He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.
“For me?” You ask.
“For you.”
“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 
“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”
You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  
“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.
“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 
“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”
“By your groupmate?”
“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 
“Yes. I did.”
“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”
“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 
“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 
You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 
“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”
A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 
Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”
“Are you free right now?”
“I am. Why?”
“Let’s go out then. On a date.”
“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.
The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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luludeluluramblings · 2 months ago
Note
tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:
damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.
reader: i am pregnant though
the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)
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Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.
A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.
A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.
A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.
In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.
It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.
You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.
The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.
The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.
When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.
But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.
After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.
This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.
The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.
It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.
What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.
But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.
And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.
Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.
“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.
You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.
Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.
Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.
The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.
Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.
Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.
It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.
Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.
“Do you— um, want something else?”
It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.
“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.
It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.
“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.
You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”
Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”
The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.
“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.
“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.
As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.
When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.
Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.
"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."
"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"
And, just like that your mood shifts.
"No."
"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.
"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."
That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"
"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.
"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.
"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.
"He doesn't ignore you-"
"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."
Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.
"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.
"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."
"Really?! That's all I had to do?"
"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"
"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"
You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.
"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.
"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.
"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."
"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."
"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.
"Now, that's offenseive."
"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."
"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."
The banter between you both coming back with ease.
When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.
As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.
Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.
"You okay, Steph?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?
A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.
A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.
A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.
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guiltyasdave · 4 months ago
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help me hold onto you
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pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader
word count: ~3.5k
summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.
warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff
a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.
massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3
dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3
notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here
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Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest. 
It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness. 
He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn. 
He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him. 
“Did I do it again?” 
He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan. 
“What exactly?”
“All of it.” 
Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands. 
“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.” 
He would much rather wake up like this. 
But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place. 
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His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight. 
He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him. 
“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady. 
It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.
“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” 
His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders. 
He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again. 
“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now. 
He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches. 
As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it. 
With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level. 
Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it. 
“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this. 
“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.” 
You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh. 
It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin. 
“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.” 
He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him. 
You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.
Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.
“All of them.” 
You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.
“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble. 
He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat. 
“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be.” 
It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind. 
Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.
“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.
“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot. 
“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.” 
It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you. 
“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out. 
Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm. 
“It wouldn’t be—”
“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.” 
The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run. 
Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.
“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice. 
Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself. 
While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness. 
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It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down. 
Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.
No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself. 
He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does. 
He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.
By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.
“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain. 
“Stop what?” he growls back. 
Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other. 
But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released. 
“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!” 
He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches. 
“I’m not—” 
You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside. 
Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless. 
“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.
He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat. 
“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression. 
He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up. 
“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly. 
“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.
He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once. 
The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth. 
“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay. 
You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes. 
“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes. 
The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.  
He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world. 
“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair. 
You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes. 
“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.” 
That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release. 
You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes. 
He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel. 
You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—” 
You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you. 
With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips. 
Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin. 
“Feels good, kitten?” 
You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit. 
“Do you want more?”
“Please, Logan.”
You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.
Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride. 
As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again. 
He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer. 
He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close. 
“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.
You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him. 
A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving. 
“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance. 
“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 
Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you. 
“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good. 
“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him. 
He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time. 
Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—” 
He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat. 
“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction. 
Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.
You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.
God, he’s such an idiot. 
“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”
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thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)
-> part 2!
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skeltnwrites · 5 months ago
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Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail. 
Word Count: 2.2k
TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos 
A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D
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“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?” 
You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.” 
“Please hold,” the operator says. 
A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning. 
“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle. 
“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper. 
“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.” 
“What happened, Eds?” 
“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.” 
You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone. 
“You’re sure? It’s enough?” 
“Swear.” 
“Okay, on my way.”
He apologizes again before the line clicks. 
You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van. 
Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby. 
Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway. 
“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown. 
You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?” 
He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”
“I am so tired,” you admit. 
He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.” 
An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside. 
“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive. 
You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?” 
“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door. 
You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood. 
“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in. 
You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him. 
“Does it hurt?” 
“Hmm?” 
You point at your own cheek. 
“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles. 
“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?” 
His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“ 
“You hit Shelly Watkins?” 
“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!” 
You shake your head, trying to recall. 
“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.” 
“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already. 
“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’” 
You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be. 
“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache. 
You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke. 
“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot. 
“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight. 
He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green. 
It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet. 
Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you. 
He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away. 
“‘s cold.” 
You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter. 
“Sit,” you tell him. 
He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky. 
 “Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously. 
“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.” 
The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loving the time and touch. 
You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start. 
“But?”
“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”
“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.” 
Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?” 
He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.” 
“For what?” 
He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.
“Sorry, you had to spend it.”
“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back. 
“Still, sorry.” 
He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud. 
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist. 
“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.” 
He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you. 
Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead. 
“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare. 
You hum.
“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.” 
“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”
He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“ 
You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping. 
“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.” 
“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!” 
You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!” 
He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.
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cake-writes · 1 year ago
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Just This Once
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  
What the hell is he doing?  
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 
Your birth control must be overdue, then.  
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  
He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  
He could get you pregnant. 
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  
Kakashi swears.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  
He’s already too attached. 
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Mm. Do you want me to?” 
His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  
You want to say no, he realises.  
He wants you to say no. 
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 
His.  
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.
“Just this once.”  
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.
Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 
“More than okay,” you sigh. 
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 
Later. 
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 
Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.
It’s selfish, he knows. 
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 
He wants it to take. 
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  
“Close?”  
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  
He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  
“Really?” 
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”
He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.
He wants them to mean that you’re his. 
He’s too attached. 
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  
It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  
“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 
If he moves right now, he’s done for.  
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  
You finish first. Always. 
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 
No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 
His jaw tenses at the reminder. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 
Get her there, then pull out. 
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then—  
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 
Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.
It feels good. It feels right. 
He’s too attached. 
He doesn’t care. 
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 
Why the hell did he do that?  
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  
“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 
They’re happy tears, you said. 
You’re happy with him. 
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 
You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  
“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 
He wants to do it again.
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  
It’s cute. You’re cute. 
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  
“What?” 
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 
“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  
And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 
“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 
“Hm? Why not?” 
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 
He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 
-
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 
-
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 
He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 
Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 
 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
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0omillo0 · 18 days ago
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Minho x Reader
Calling you clingy
angst/comfort
inspo from @ seungfl0wer!! I love their works!
You had always been the talkative, affectionate type. From the moment you met Minho, your bubbly personality had been a constant in his life, a stream of warmth and light he found himself drawn to. You loved sharing every little detail of your day with him—the funny things your coworkers said, the way the sun hit the park on your way home, or the recipe you wanted to try for dinner.
Minho had always been receptive, listening intently, laughing at your stories, and teasing you when you got overly dramatic. It became a routine, a rhythm you both cherished.
But recently, things had shifted.
Minho had been stressed, you knew that. Between his busy schedule, endless rehearsals, and looming deadlines, the pressure on him was immense. At first, you tried to give him space, being a little quieter when he came home, offering to massage his shoulders or make him his favorite tea. But when he seemed indifferent to your efforts, you couldn’t help but feel… replaced.
One evening, as you were rambling about a funny interaction at the grocery store, you noticed Minho wasn’t responding. He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, his face blank.
You waited for his usual chuckle or comment. But there was nothing.
“Minho?” you tried again.
“What?!” he replied curtly, not looking up.
You blinked, caught off guard. “I was just saying—”
“Omg can you stop?” he interrupted sharply, finally looking at you, his brows furrowed. “I don’t need to hear every little thing that happens to you, Y/N. I’m tired. Just… give me some peace, okay? You’re so damn clingy.”
The words hit you like a slap. You stared at him, your throat tightening as the weight of his tone settled over you.
“…Oh- Okay.” you whispered, turning away before he could see the tears brimming in your eyes.
“Y/N, wait—” he started, but you were already walking out of the room.
The next few days were a blur.
You didn’t stop caring for him—that wasn’t who you were. Every morning, you dragged yourself out of bed earlier than usual, even though you despised waking up before Minho. You made him breakfast, carefully plating it on the table before leaving for work. You barely ate yourself, your appetite gone, but you didn’t want him to feel neglected.
When you got home in the evenings, you prepared dinner in silence, eating alone and leaving his portion on the table. By the time he came home, you were already in bed, curled up on your side and staring at the wall.
Minho tried to break the silence.
“Y/N,” he said softly one night as you lay beside him. “Can we talk?”
But you didn’t respond. You stayed still, pretending to be asleep, your heart aching at the tremor in his voice.
By the fourth day, Minho felt like he was losing his mind.
He missed your voice, your laughter, your stories. The quiet house felt oppressive, and the sight of you avoiding his gaze cut deeper than any harsh word ever could. He had tried apologizing in small ways—offering to help with chores, brushing your shoulder as he passed—but nothing worked.
That night, as you lay next to him, your back to him as usual, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, but you heard the crack in it.
You didn’t move.
“Please,” he said, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch your hip. “Please look at me.”
Still, you stayed still, your breathing steady but your heart racing.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t mean it.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, but you bit your lip, unwilling to give in so easily.
“I love the way you talk to me,” Minho continued, his voice shaking. “I love your stories. They… they make me feel like I’m part of your world, like I’m home. And I ruined that. I ruined us. I don’t know why I said those things. I was tired, I was stressed, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Y/N. Please… forgive me.”
You felt a tear land on your shoulder, and your resolve crumbled. Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his for the first time in days.
His face was a mess of guilt and desperation, his eyes red and glistening.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you whispered, your voice breaking.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I’m not good with words. I just… I lashed out, and I hate myself for it. I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you. Please don’t shut me out.”
Your tears spilled over, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him close.
“Minho,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “You hurt me.”
“I know,” he murmured, his hands trembling as they wrapped around your waist. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again. I’ll never take you for granted again.”
For a moment, the only sound was your quiet crying and his whispered apologies. Then, he pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears.
“I love you,” he said again, his voice steady this time.
And then his lips found yours.
The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But as you responded, it deepened, filled with a mixture of passion, regret, and unspoken promises.
When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.
“I missed you,” you whispered.
“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice soft but resolute.
That night, Minho held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and for the first time in days, the silence between you was replaced by the warmth of reconciliation.
@intartaruginha @hannamoon143
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astonmartinii · 4 months ago
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false start | lewis hamilton social media au
pairing: lewis hamilton x fem swimmer reader
some people are getting a bit too ahead of themselves
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・.
espn
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tagged: yourusername & lewishamilton
espn: the 2024 paris olympics kick off tomorrow and we'll be keeping a close eye on the pool. and despite being one of the biggest names in the sport and the fiance of seven-time f1 world champion lewis hamilton, we don't predict to see y/n y/ln on the podium this summer.
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user1: when will y'all learn?
user2: i swear they did this back in 2021, saying she wasn't good enough any more and then BAM she won double gold and they were suspiciously quiet after
user3: i hope she dunks on their heads again
charles_leclerc: STOP UNDERRATING HER I SWEAR TO FUCK
user4: bro hasn't even started as lewis' teammate and he's already ready to throw down for y/n
charles_leclerc: i have been a fan of the queen since before i even started in f1 - no one disrespects her in front of me
user5: espn better be shaking in their boots after that
lewishamilton: 😐
user6: the king has spoken
user7: it's an emoji babe
user8: real lewis fans know that this is worth a thousand words
user9: the picture with the double gold is going to hit like crack i fear
user10: best believe i know that they'll tag espn just to be messy
user11: i'm sat. i'm so sat. the cinema workers have told me she doesn't compete for a couple days but i'm simply so sat
yourusername: ⏳
user12: OKAY SLAY
user13: i need these golds like i need air
user14: okay queen i need you to run back the celebration from last olympics
user15: time to become an honourary aussie for a couple weeks to support y/n
user16: LET'S FUCKING GO KANGAROOS
user17: run me my passport australia
user18: when will lewis get his australian citizenship
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lewishamilton
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lewishamilton: go get em'
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user22: gIVE ME ONE CHANCE PLEASE GOD PLEASE
user23: sorry to everyone else at the games, but the hottest couple has arrived
user24: tiktok girls PSA: if i don't have ten alchemy edits of them on my desk by tomorrow morning THERE WILL BE ISSUES
yourusername: for you sir, anything
yourusername: ugh your ✨ title ✨ is so hot
lewishamilton: let's win and then put it to good use 😉
landnorris: do you people mind?
yourusername: why are you always in our business? don't you have your own little guppy to follow around in paris?
lewishamilton: he's just lonely? or not? i can't keep up with his relationship drama
landonorris: EXCUSE ME?
yourusername: you're excused? we've been together for like eight years we aren't used to whatever drama you've gotten yourself into
lewishamilton: eight years, six months and 237 days :P
user25: first espn and now lando? they're not holding back this summer
user26: fucking around and finding out is what summer 2024 is all about
georgerussell63: good luck y/n !!!
yourusername: thank you georgie :)
georgerussell63: and i checked, i don't think there's any gb swimmers in your events (other than the relays) so you'll have my full support
yourusername: thanks?
lewishamilton: he's a little confused but he's got the spirit
user27: i need y/n to win and come to the paddock with her medal for zandvoort
user28: i am seeing it and i need it to happen
olympics
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olympics: never in doubt, y/n y/ln takes gold in the 100m backstroke final!
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user29: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
user30: suck on that espn
user31: espn admin come outside rn please i jUST WANNA TALK
lewishamilton: @espn KEEP MY (soon to be) WIFE'S NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH
yourusername: that was so hot
lewishamilton: you wiping the floor with the whole pool was so hot
lewishamilton: but then again you're hot doing literally anything
yourusername: says you mr model
lewishamilton: i got a few things i wanna model for you ...
yourusername: is it my gold medal and nothing else ?
lewishamilton: how did you know ???
user32: so winning a gold medal really does make you horny on main
user33: some of us lived through them with no PR managers, this is tame
user34: they're one couple where it really wouldn't surprise me if something got leaked
yourusername: can confirm it tastes as sweet as it did in tokyo
oscarpiastri: could you hear me cheering? i was so loud :)
yourusername: funnily enough, no
oscarpiastri: oh :(
yourusername: but i felt it in my spirit!
oscarpiastri: good :) because i think i have slightly deafened your husband 🤷‍♂️
lewishamilton: my ears are still ringing but i'll take it because you were supporting y/n
yourusername: awwww you cuties
user35: yall saying that kimi antonelli is lewis' grid kid but it's clearly oscar
user36: if i watched lewis put yellow and green glitter on oscar's face on live tv it's not a conversation to start with
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yourusername
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tagged: olympics & lewishamilton
yourusername: gold in both 100m and 200m backstroke is more than i could've ever dreamed coming into these games, thank you to my family, friends and wonderful fiance for their support. and to the others, you know who you are, be careful on all those false starts you keep making ;)
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user38: where are you ? LET'S BE HAVING YOU !!!
user39: her winning the golds regardless isn't enough i need a gun
espn: ... i'm sorry?
lewishamilton: YOU SHOULD BE
espn: sir, i am just an intern who posts what i am given
yourusername: well now you're making me feel bad
espn: i can give you my boss' email?
lewishamilton: YES PLEASE LET ME AT EM
user40: bullying works?
lewishamilton: i'm so so so so so so proud and so so so glad that everything lined up for me to be there and witness your excellence in person 🙇🏾
yourusername: i love you so much and couldn't have done it without you, all those facetime dates and missed anniversaries are worth it in the end
yourusername: although i am looking forward to following you around the world again for a bit
user41: thank fuck you're not retiring ????
yourusername: who said that ??? @espn was it you again??
espn: not this time i swear!
yourusername: i can confirm that i am not retiring, us terrorising all the youngsters in our sport is kind of our whole bit
lewishamilton: although some people could learn to walk away - cough @fernandoalo_oficial
yourusername: really?
lewishamilton: beef waits for no one
fernandoalo_oficial: well i personally was cheering on y/n, you can choke
user42: how does y/n look so good even after racing?
yourusername: getting laid well and often 👍🏼
lewishamilton: you're welcome
yourusername: i love you 🥰
lewishamilton: i love you more
fin.
note: hope you guys enjoyed!! swimming is always my favourite olympic sport (i also swam for ten years so that's probably why lol)
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mallowsweetmiri · 5 months ago
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Strawberry Pie 🍓 ~ F.W.
Part 1 • Black Bikini
Summary: You’re staying at the burrow for the summer like you do every year. All is well expect for the fact that you kind of slept with your long time family friend, Fred Weasley.
Warnings: thigh riding, cursing, mentions of sex
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Your POV:
You woke up in Charlie Weasleys old bed to an unusual amount of chaos coming from a few floors below you. You groaned as you rubbed your eyes and stretched. The morning sun bathed your skin in warmth. You let out a content sigh as you closed your eyes once more. You loved being here, especially since you got Charlie’s old room, the best room. The window next to the bed looked out on the sprawling hills towards the east, a big tree sat in the middle of the view. Little birds chirped in the thick cover of leaves. You heard the patter of footsteps rapidly approaching your bedroom.
“Y/N!” The door busted open to reveal a bounding Hermione Granger with Ginny hot in pursuit behind her. Hermione threw open her arms and squealed as she jump onto your bed to tackle you with a hug.
“Granger! I didn’t know you were coming today, I would’ve gotten out of bed earlier,” you frowned as Ginny and her took seats on your bed.
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you yesterday. You know, too much sun at the beach and then I wasn’t allowed to hang out with you last night,” Ginny glared at you but you just laughed. Ginny couldn’t keep a straight face, but you knew that she really did want to hang out with you and twins last night. She was just too young for drinking games with the twins. And… oh Merlin.
Suddenly, you remembered what had happened last night. George had taken Ginny and Ron back to the house, leaving you and Fred alone on the hillside. One thing led to another and… well… you ending up naked with your oldest family friend.
“It’s okay! Now that you’re awake, we can start our day,” Hermiones voice tore you out of your thoughts.
“Okay, okay I’m getting up now,” you sat up straight and yawned, “what are we doing today?”
“Get dressed and meet us downstairs for breakfast,” she grinned, “we’re going strawberry picking.”
After Ginny and Hermione left your room, you quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a white cami. You checked yourself out in the mirror. You had definitely grown this past school year. The biggest difference was your chest which had filled out significantly in a just one school year. In fact, you really needed a new bra. But besides the physical side of things, you also just felt more mature. You swept your hair up into a loose pony tail, leaving your neck bare and exposed. You fell still as you saw a small purple blotch in the crevice of your neck.
“Shit,” you cursed, tying off your hair and reaching for your wand on the bedside table. You applied some glamour to your neck to hide the mark and then pulled out more than a few strands of your bangs to give you more coverage. You had forgotten that Fred was kissing you all over last night. You saw yourself blush at the thought. You continued to get ready like this. You started brushing you teeth and recalled opening your mouth for Fred last night. You applied lip balm and remembered his wet mouth in between your thighs. You walked downstairs and made yourself swear to stop thinking about it, but you wondered if Fred was in the kitchen too.
As you reached the bottom floor, you saw Molly cleaning in the kitchen and 5 seats taken at the dining room table. The Weasley children and Hermione sat around the table feasting on pancakes, sausage, eggs, potatoes, and toast with jam. You graciously thanked Molly before sitting down to get some grub of your own.
“Okay so after breakfast we’ll leave to walk to the fields. Definitely pack a hat or something to cover yourselves so nobody gets sunburnt. Also I was thinking that after we come back we could bake something with the strawberries,” Hermione spoke with incredible speed while simultaneously spreading apricot jam on her toast. Ron huffed out a smile and took a bite of his own breakfast.
“That sounds great ‘Mione. And while you girls cook, I’ll be taking a nap,” Ron said with a full mouth. Hermione turned to smack him on the arm causing the twins to laugh. Of course this made you look up, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Fred was wearing he wore a simple t-shirt, but it seemed like he was starting to grow out of it. You couldn’t fathom that the twins could grow anymore, they were already a full head taller than you. But there was Fred, leaned back nonchalantly in his chair. His hair had grown out slightly from the year away from home and his face seemed to be more dotted from the summer sun. He met you gaze and gave you a soft smile. You could’ve sworn he was blushing a little.
“What do you think Y/N?” Hermione turned to you to hear your opinion. You cleared your throat and ripped your eyes away from Fred’s.
“Erm- what were we talking about?” You asked with a sheepish half-grin. Hermione raised her eyebrow at you.
“What should we bake this afternoon?” She asked, sweeping her eyes to Fred as he sat back with a noticeable grin on his face. Merlin, couldn’t he keep that smile off his face for two seconds? It was hard to think.
“Hmm, strawberry pie,” you grinned as you sat up to bring your plate to the sink.
“Mm, that sounds simply divine,” George said in his best posh voice, standing up to join you by the sink. Fred gathered his plate as well.
“Indeed, George. That sounds delicious,” he crossed the kitchen to put his dish in the sink, “and I do like to have something sweet after dinner.” His arm brushed against yours. Immediately the contact made the hairs on your arm stand up. Since when did that happen? When did Fred start making you feel this type of way?
Maybe since his head was buried between my legs and he used his pretty mouth to give me the best orgasm of my life, you thought to yourself, making yourself blush a crimson shade of red. You cleared your throat and made your way onto the front porch. You sat down on the bench and began putting on your boots, you knew the fields would be muddy. The screen door swung open and Fred turned towards you with a half smile. As soon as you guys looked at each other, both your faces flushed red and you looked away. Fred took no time to recover and made his way over to sit next to you. Suddenly your boot zipper was extremely fascinating.
“I’m glad to see you up in this morning, Y/N. I was afraid the fire whiskey had gotten to you,” he teased, putting on his own boots.
“I don’t think it would’ve been the fire whiskey that took me out,” you mumbled, color running into your face again. At this point, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and you could hardly look up at Fred. You had a small moment of panic, what if last night ruined everything? Fred’s chuckle took you out of your doubts.
“Take a breathe, Y/N. You look like you’re about to faint,” Fred laughed as he took a look at your face. You smacked his arm and let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. Your mouth couldn’t help but curve into a smile. That always seemed to happen around Fred. The two of you fell into a small silence as you both finished tying your boots. The door burst open as the rest of the gang piled out onto the porch to put their shoes on. You gathered some baskets and passed them around before the 6 of you set out towards the fields. They were right next to the burrow, but they spanned for acres. You and Fred naturally hung back from the group and strolled at a leisurely pace.
“Summers here are truly amazing,” you sighed, breathing in the fresh breeze. Fred smiled down at you.
“Truly, and I have a feeling this summer is going to be the best one yet,” Fred hummed as he veered right towards a particularly abundant bush.
“Oh yeah, and why is that Freddie?” You skipped up next to him and began picking berries. You figured you already knew the answer but you wanted to hear him say it. Half of your mind was still convinced that last night hadn’t happened at all.
“Well I told you, Y/N. I’m going to make you mine this summer,” he said this so casually, you almost didn’t hear him. You’d completely lost interest in the berries at this point.
“Fred,” you tested. You almost thought he was joking, but his face was dead serious. His expression was something you rarely saw on the face of a Weasley twin. “Are you serious?”
“Look at my face,” he said, pointing up at himself, “do I look like I’m joking.” He did not, but it only took about one second of his seriousness to cause both of you the keel over laughing. You dropped your basket which Fred promptly picked up for you. As you grabbed the basket from him, your eyes locked. It felt serious again.
“Fred, I don’t want to ruin anything while I’m here this summer. Even if last night was... I don’t want anything to go badly…” you trailed off, feeling vulnerable in front of your best friend. He only stepped closer to you and put his hand on your cheek. Even though he’d been inside you only last night, this felt more intimate than anything you’d done before.
“Just trust me, Y/N. Nothing is going to be ruined,” Fred whispered. His finger ran along your cheek, behind your ear, and down the side of your throat. He chuckled, “except maybe your neck.” You blushed and swatted his hand away.
“Can you see it? I thought I covered it this morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your neck as if to wash off the mark.
“I can only see it because I was looking for it. Don’t worry, you can keep up your little goody two shoes act,” Fred teased, flicking a strawberry your way. You rolled your eyes and smiled at his words. The two of began to walk toward the group once more. Ginny was laughing her ass off.
“What’s so funny?” You asked, strolling up next to Ginny. You soon saw why she was laughing. Ron was frowning, sinking into a mud hole, his boot stuck in the mush and filled with mud.
“He’s such an idiot,” Ginny barked, pointing at her brother. Hermione tried to stifle her laughs.
“Oh, come on now, Ginny. Let’s help Ron out,” George said, stepping up to grab Ron’s arm. Ginny grinned and grabbed his other hand.
“On three,” George said, “one… two… three!” The two of them tugged on Ron before releasing him back into the mud. He fell with an oof as the rest of you broke down in laughter.
“You guys are actually the worst,” Ron grumbled, throwing a handful of mud at Fred.
“Hey! What did I do?” Fred exclaimed, grabbing a handful of mud at slinging it at Ron.
“Oh, fuck,” Ron said as George pelted him with another handful. It took about 3 seconds before everyone was covered in mud, howling with laughter as you continued to pelt each other with mud pies. Your fun lasted all of two minutes before a shrill yell came from the house,
“What in Merlin’s name do you kids think you’re doing!”
Molly Weasley was marching out of the burrow and towards the strawberry fields. You all stopped. You let the mud slip out of your fingers and slop onto the ground.
“Come here right this instant!” She yelled, stomping her foot and pointing towards the ground she stood on. You looked towards Ginny who whispered, “oh shit.” The six of you started to head back towards the house, the twins grumbling to themselves.
“Its like she’s allergic to fun,” you heard George whisper, Fred laughing and elbowing him in the side.
“Seriously don’t make me laugh. We can’t get in trouble this summer,” Fred whispered back, earning an eye roll from George. His eyes looked back to you for a second, and you wondered if he knew about last night. He probably did.
“You kids are trouble! I thought you were going to go pick strawberries, not roll around in the mud!” Mrs. Weasley scolded, making Hermione drop her head in shame. “Go clean up in the pond-”
“But Mum! There are frogs in there!” Ron whined, earning a glare from his mother.
“I don’t care, you lot are a bunch of frogs. You’re not allowed back in the house until all the mud is off of you. You tried not to laugh at her sass as you walked towards the pond. Ron was grumbling to Ginny about this was her fault and Hermione looked like she was going to cry.
“Don’t worry, ‘Mione. She’s not really mad. Once we bake her a delicious pie she’ll forget all about this,” you smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. She swallowed and nodded. That girl was too sweet for this world. The grass grew longer as you entered the shaded brush near the pond. You stripped your shoes off and waded into the water. It really wasn’t too disgusting, it was just warm. The twins followed after you.
“Watch out for the bullfrogs, Ron,” Fred teased.
“Yeah, we caught at least 5 of ‘em yesterday,” George added, stripping off his shirt. Next came Ginny and Hermione, who were mildly grossed out by the slime. Then Ron who looked disgusted. You chuckled to yourself as you sunk into the water, rubbing the mud off of your arms. Fred watched as you rubbed over your chest, his lips twitching at the corner. You sent a splash his way to deter him from looking which didn’t really work. Fred followed George’s suit and stripped his shirt off, the shaded lighting making him look absolutely divine. Fuck. You almost groaned at the sight and had to turn away to prevent yourself from drooling. Gods, you thought he looked good playing quidditch this year but seeing him shirtless and wet everyday this summer made you feel insane. After a few minutes of washing off all the mud, and a few splash fights, you guys headed back towards the burrow. One by one, you all cast drying spells on yourselves, and headed inside.
“Before we start the pie, I’m going to go change,” Hermione said with a face of disgust. While the pond got the mud off your clothes, you definitely reeked of dirt and sludge. You all murmured in agreement and headed upstairs to change. You got off on your floor, heading swiftly to your room.
Fred’s POV
I watched her go towards her room as me and George kept climbing up the stairs. She was going in there to change, to take off that little white tank top that was just soaking wet against her chest. Fuck. I had to keep my train of thought from wandering. I didn’t realize how difficult it was going to be to control myself after last night. After I saw her perfect tits bouncing while I fucked her and watched her face as she came and fuck. I didn’t even realize I had turned around and started back down the stairs and towards her room. I knocked on her door swiftly.
“Fred?” She asked when she opened the door.
“Can I, uh, come in?” I asked, smiling sheepishly at her. She nodded and moved to the side to let me in. I shut the door behind me and stood in front of her. She looked nervous, waiting for me to say something.
“Y/N, can I be honest,” I breathed out a chuckle, feeling slightly awkward in front of what used to be only my best friend.
“Of course, Fred,” she replied, holding her hands behind her back as she looked at me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, uhm, after last night,” I admitted, feeling a relief as the words left my mouth. She let out a breath.
“I know how you feel,” she chuckled, moving towards me.
“I don’t even really know why I’m here,” I chuckled again, breathing in as she stepped closer again.
“Do you want to, I dunno…” she blushed, looking up at me expectantly. I wasted no time in closing the gap between our lips. I let my hands grip around her waist, making her gasp into my mouth. I pressed her against my body, wanting to feel all of her. I couldn’t get enough, I just wanted to take her to bed.
“Com’ere,” I breathed, falling to sit on the bed and pulling her with me. She groaned as she straddled my hips, sinking down and feeling my length through my jeans. I groaned and pressed her down against me. Her legs felt so good under my hands, her hips gently moving on top of me. I swiped my thumbs across the front of her hips, causing her to whine into my lips. Merlin, she sounded so sexy. I moved my leg under her and used my hands to guide her hip back and forth on top of my thigh. She threw her hand back with a moan.
“Shhh,” I shushed her, bouncing my leg up and down as she rode me. I brought my lips up to hers, causing her to fall closer to my chest. She whined into me, giving me the change to slip my tongue into her mouth. I pushed her back and forth on my leg, earning more pretty moans from her mouth. I felt her shudder on me as she pulled back.
“Fred, I’m so close,” she whined, her face falling into my shoulder. I kissed down her neck.
“That’s it, come for me darling,” I murmured, licking over her neck and rubbing her down on my leg in a faster rhythm. Her moans got muffled in my shoulder as she sped up her movements. I wanted to hear her while she came, but shushed her gently as a reminder. She whined quietly as she shuddered on top of me, her hips grinding slowly on my leg. I kissed her tenderly as I helped her ride out her high. “Such a good girl,” I whispered in her neck before kissing up the side of her jaw and towards her lips. We shared on last kiss before she pulled back, her lips curling up into a smile.
“Fuck,” she giggled, panting on my lap. I smirked back at her.
“Did you like that?” I asked cheekily. She blushed and nodded before burying her face in my shoulder. I laughed and picked her up, placing her on her feet. “You should probably get changed. We don’t wanna be late to the pie making party.” She chuckled and playfully shoved my chest.
“Then get out of my room so I can change,” she teased, rolling her eyes. My face fell into a half grin as I threw my hands up and started towards the door.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” I protested, exiting out into the hallway. She smiled as she shut the door behind me. Once again, a permanent grin was plastered on my face as I walked up the stairs. I readjusted my pants before stepping into my room.
“Mate, are you and Y/N fucking?” George asked, fixing his hair and the mirror. I breathed out a laugh and shrugged, moving towards the closet to change.
“Oh, it’s so much more than that, Georgie. I think I’m in love,” I sighed, pulling a band tee off the hanger. George chucked and came over to clap me on the back.
“Good for you, brother. I knew it was going to happen this summer,” George smiled at me and I smiled back. He would always be my number one wing man.
“Thanks, George. You mind helping me out with something? I have a plan,” I grinned. He grinned back at me.
“Count me in.”
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