#It was a normal sized breakfast…
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noctilionoidea · 5 months ago
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fuck dude. I feel like shit. Apparently my body was not ready to have a meal again even though I’ve been in an unintentional grief based fast for several days…
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raeathnos · 2 years ago
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#I am… not in a good mental state#it’s uh very alienating#no one like understands the fucking pain and shit that I’ve dealt with for the majority of my life that comes with these problems#no one understands how the focus is primarily on fertility and how you have to really fight for symptoms treatment#it feels like all your worth is in your ability to have kids and like#if you have these sort of problems and don’t want kids it’s kind of one big fuck you#and like no one in my life really gets it; I try to not get mad cause like how could they if they’ve never gone through it#but that doesn’t make it any easier and it’s so hard still and it’s so alienating#gonna go take the hottest shower I fucking can and just like cry it out cause no one is really helping#moms being controlling telling me I can’t go to work tomorrow like this and yelling at me about it#I don’t do well on phone calls and asked if she would sit with me when I called the doctor and that was a mistake#I can’t hear someone talking next to me and someone talking to me on the phone at the same time#and everything she didn’t like she tried to tell me I did wrong and now she’s mad at me#my husband has been complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs in the er were and about being up for 24 hours cause we were there from#2-am to 8am and just idk. I feel bad I guess#but then I get kind of mad about it cause I was also up for 24 hours and like#complaining about hospital chairs vs 10/10 pain + vaginal ultrasound while at 10/10 pain#my dad just flat out doesn’t care and doesn’t think it’s a big deal#I literally went downstairs to get my cats breakfast and got asked if I was better yet#like yeah dad in the span of a day my ovary has returned to normal size and I’m in zero pain. sure. that’s def how that works.#and like I have been having so many issues with my both my parents lately#it’s all so hard it’s too hard and I can’t fucking handle it#my health has just been in a constant nose dive since September#and I feel like everyone thinks because I already have a lot of health issues that I’m used to it and can handle it#no one gives a shit- which has also been great for my mental health#I can’t handle any of this shit and I feel like everyone around me just thinks I’m weak and annoying and a failure#I’ve been overwhelmed and burned out for years and like it just doesn’t stop#I’m just sad and tired and in a lot of pain and very done with everything#I feel like no one cares and I’m just a burden#I wish I could hibernate
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playingonedchess · 3 months ago
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hmn wouldve thought id lived on my own long enough to know better than to eat a whole packet of biscuits at 3am because i didnt feel like sleeping but apparently not
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sol-flo · 7 months ago
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jesus christ my neighbors are already obnoxious enough normally i think them watching the olympics will turn me into the joker
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cowculater · 7 months ago
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tarragon is such a w spice
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eggie-o · 11 months ago
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mmmmmm big breakfast sleepytime :)
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elprupneerg · 1 year ago
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the worst part of vague plans without a specific timeframe is the adhd waiting mode. i'm supposed to go shopping for shoe inserts for my new boots and grocery shopping today with my gf. at....... some point. in time. preferably before the stores close. and also maybe go to the coffee shop near the shoe insert store and sit outside since its supposed to be decently warm (by february in wisconsin standards its practically boiling out) and sunny. but that requires us to be out the door and in that part of town before it starts getting colder later in the afternoon.
so now i've been dressed and ready to go since about noon since i wasn't sure what time we were going and i take forever to get dressed since my gender changes on the daily and i need to make sure i'm wearing something that's not gonna make me dysphoric halfway through the outing. and i can't start working on homework since the moment i do i'm gonna get caught up in it and have trouble task shifting if my gf is ready to go when i'm only partway through a reading assignment. and i can't eat something or have my normal morning cup of coffee since we might be going out to coffee and snacks and i'm trying to have caffeine and i want enough room in my tummy to not be sick if i get a pastry.
so now i've been sitting crocheting for almost 2 hours which like. cool yeah i made some progress on my sock (even after having to frog things like 4 times since i kept miscounting the increase stitches). but also i'm feeling like a lazy ass cuz that's 2 hours i could've used to read a chapter in one of my textbooks or finish working on a bio lab assignment or eat a late brunch or do fucking Anything besides sitting here waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.
and i can't even start on something now. because its been 2 hours. which means that as soon as i start something my gf is gonna go "oh wow! its been 2 hours! i should rush and get dressed and be ready to go in 20 minutes!" which is not enough time for me to finish anything i start. but also if i Don't start anything then its gonna be another hour or two before she's ready to go.
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bunnis-monsters · 7 months ago
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NSFW
Pt 1(you’re here)
Pt 2
warning: dubcon, somno, size difference(big time)
A/N: my requests are closed for the foreseeable future, but my commissions are open! Consider reading my commission info and helping me out! Slots are limited(2 left), so get a commission while you still can~
Having thoughts about a fairy that’s the last of his kind.
He usually spends his days lounging around in flowers or by the lakeside, sometimes visited by woodland creatures.
After his species died out, he's been quite lonely. Being the last of your kind was a fate worse than death, and all he wanted was someone to call his own.
And then he sees you, a normal human woman walking home through his forest.
Usually fairies would play tricks on wandering humans or even curse them for entering their forest, but he couldn’t take being alone anymore, so he followed you home instead.
He just planned to take up residence in your garden, maybe help your plants grow if he felt like it… but one night he ended up flying by your window.
The sight of you undressing made his wings flap in excitement. Your ample breasts, soft belly, and plump thighs were a lot to take in, but he sat in the windowsill, his eyes fixated on your body as he stroked his cock.
He’d never seen a fairy that looked like you, they were all so little and dainty. You had such soft features, all he wanted to do was bury his face in your breasts and fuck that fat pussy of yours.
But alas, he was too small, barely the size of your hand. Never before had he wanted to be the side of a human. Their bodies seemed so clumsy and cumbersome… but now the only thing on his mind was finding a way to grow to your size.
As you slept, he flew in through your cracked window, settling on your chest. It was softer than he imagined, like lying atop two doughy mountains. The fairy couldn’t help but marvel at your hard nipple poking through the fabric of your top.
He held your perky bud in both of his hands, marveling at the way you whimpered under his touch.
Before he knew what he was doing, the little fairy pulled out his cock. He pushed up the fabric of your shirt just enough so he could rub the tip of his sensitive, needy cock on that pretty nipple of yours.
“Mmph…”
He stopped rutting against your nipple when he spotted your soft, plump lips, glistening in the moonlight. The fairy’s shimmering wings fluttered as he gently walked between the valleys of your breasts and climbed up your face.
He positioned his cock between your slightly parted lips, gently pressing the tip against your tongue, testing the waters.
When you didn’t wake up, he began to slowly fuck your mouth, glancing up to your eyes every once in a while before picking up speed.
It was like heaven for him, fucking into your warm, wet mouth, imagining you tasting his cum on your tongue come morning time.
He lost count of how many times he was pushed over the edge by your soft tongue, and ended up passing out on your breasts. He looked like the cutest little thing, all curled up in your cleavage…
When you woke up the next morning, everything was the same as usual. You just had this weird taste in your mouth…
After a nice breakfast, you went to water your plants, only to find out your vegetables had doubled in size over night! As you stared on in awe, your little fairy admirer sat on your windowsill, his cheeks pink as he watched you smile and harvest the plants he had tended to.
You were his lover now, after all… and he didn’t want you going hungry, did he? Especially not when he was planning to find a growth spell and fill that chubby belly of yours full of his young so he could rebuild his species.
You’d need lots of nutrients to carry his young, and he was a good little mate~
part 2?
——————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143
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mickyschumacher · 2 months ago
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[BREAKFAST IN BED!]
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+
𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The season was over. Finally.
Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.
Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.
And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.
Was that too much to ask for?
It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.
Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.
But that was life. And that was then.
Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.
Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.
His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.
Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.
And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.
You were luckier than you could ever imagine.
"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.
You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.
"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.
Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.
He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.
He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.
Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.
"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."
You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.
Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."
"I–" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.
"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.
In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.
But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.
"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."
Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.
Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.
This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being
Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.
His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.
Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.
"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.
"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.
You were driving him crazy.
Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.
Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.
"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.
You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.
Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."
You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.
You were positively going to lose your mind.
His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."
A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.
"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.
He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.
You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.
Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.
Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.
You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.
Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.
Oh god.
"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.
Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.
The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.
Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.
It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.
Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.
Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.
"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.
His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.
Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.
"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.
You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."
"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."
You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.
The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.
You cried.
You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.
It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.
Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.
Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.
And it absolutely drove him crazy.
Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.
Oh my god.
Lando had broken you with his tongue.
You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.
Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"
His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.
"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.
You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"
Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.
"Oh."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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freemonker · 2 years ago
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Yes I did, a couple times
Anyone who lives in the grand rapids area in MI, I recommend this amazing local restaurant, 76th street diner, or as it was introduced to me, truck stop. It's a truck stop in a gas station open 24/7 and the food is great and the waitstaff are amazing! I love them so much, you should go
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clockwayswrites · 4 months ago
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Birds in their nest Part 18
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Danny woke relaxed. From his brow to the tips of his toes he was relaxed. Which was the first sign something was off. Relaxed was then followed swiftly by confused and wary. He stayed carefully still and silent as he took the space around him in.
The room was darker than his, heavier somehow in that darkness. It was quieter too. There was no noise of the city seeping through the annoyingly thin windows that looked out over the streets of Gotham. He was in a bed, though, and a very comfortable one at that.
(He forcefully pushed back the part of his mind that was still a scared boy worried about being captured and vivisected or cloned again or something else horrible.)
Slowly, Danny opened his eyes. The bed was more than comfortable, it was impressively ornate dark wood that almost faded into the dark blue walls. Somehow even the walls felt expensive. Danny figure it must be the wood detailing that ran around the room.
As he sat up up just slightly, everything clicked into place: the ballet, Bruce insisting on giving Danny a ride, and not remember the end of the ride. He must be at Wayne Manor. He must have fallen asleep in the limo. It was beyond mortifying. They Waynes had just been doing him a favor out of some sense of charity or pity and he’d ended up being a burden.
Danny collapsed back into the bed and covered his face with a groan. This wasn’t even some one night stand where he could slip out quietly or something; he had to see them. He had to say thank you and sorry and please don’t fire me for being weird. Gods, why couldn’t he just be normal for one night?
Even without wings or turning into a giant, eldritch bird he was a mess, Danny thought, slightly hysterically. Well, he might as well get up and face the music so that he could call a ride leave.
If only getting up wasn’t such a problem. Now that he was moving, Danny felt the ache of the missed doses of medication in every thread of muscle. He didn’t even have anything to take, not having one of his usual bags with him. Slowly, Danny got his feet under him and got himself standing. He breathed through the shaking muscles.
The change of clothing was a welcome sight. The suit (that he was totally going to have to get dry cleaned now) felt more than a little stale after sleeping in it. The provided leisure were was much more comfortable and, somehow as he pulled on the over sized hoodie, familiar feeling.
As he stepped out into the quiet hallways, Danny have wondered if he could make a break for it, pain and all.
“Good to see you awake, sir.”
Danny jolted so hard at the sudden voice he might have pulled something.
The stately elderly man that approached looked less than sympathetic. “My apologies, sir. If you will hand me your suit, I will see it dry cleaned and send to your office.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine, I’ve been enough trouble already—”
“I insist.”
Meekly, Danny handed over the suit after he had fumbled out his phone and watch from the pile. The other man took it with far more grace.
“If you will follow me, sir, I will direct you too breakfast on the way.”
“Right. Thank you Mr…?”
“Pennyworth, sir,” Mr. Pennyworth said and started off.
Danny scrambled after him and tried not to hobble too much even though he could feel his left knee threatening to buckle with every step. It was just a twinge. He would get home (after breakfast apparently) and take his medication and he’d be fine.
He’d be slowly turning into something eldritch and unknowable, but he’d be fine.
When Danny got to the able, it was already rather full though not everyone seemed that awake.
“They’re not morning people,” Duke explained with a sunny smile when he spotted Danny.
“Hn.” Bruce agreed articulately.
Danny smiled despite his current embarrassment. “I can see that, but I don’t think that I can talk considering last night. I am so sorry that I fell asleep in the car like that. I swear I don’t normally just crash like that. You should have just woken me up so that I wouldn’t be—”
“Danny,” Bruce interrupted. His voice was a low, sleepy rumble. Danny felt himself blush. “It’s no burden on us. You obviously needed the rest since you didn’t even wake once. I just hope that we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” Danny admitted. “But I really don’t want to be any trouble to—”
This time it was Cass cutting Danny, off as she swept into the room and pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek, then Bruce’s, and a few of her siblings as she made her way to a seat.
“Sit. Eat,” Cass signed and motioned to a seat next to Bruce.
Danny felt it best to give in and do as he was told. This family was just very confusing.
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seiwas · 6 months ago
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cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry
bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.
there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.
but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.
your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.
the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.
he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?
heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—
he gulps.
it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—
(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)
the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).
it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.
he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.
bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.
you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.
"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.
as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.
as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.
as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.
his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.
you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.
“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.
your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.
he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.
but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.
he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.
there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.
your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.
then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.
he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.
five minutes, huh?
like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.
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on-the-clear-blue · 6 months ago
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Dead Man's Diner pt 2
Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.
Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.
Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.
There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.
Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.
Vigilantes
Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.
Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.
---
Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.
That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks
The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.
Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"
So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.
"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.
"That place does not exist."
"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"
"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."
"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.
"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.
"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.
"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"
"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."
"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"
"Sure Tim...sure"
---
Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.
He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.
Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"
Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.
---
Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.
His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.
[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]
Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.
"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."
Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.
---
Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.
He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.
"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"
His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.
---
Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.
He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...
He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.
He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.
Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.
Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"
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504py · 5 months ago
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A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]
Warnings below the cut 。。。
⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.
hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!
thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏
also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.
MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭
┊͙✧˖*°࿐
The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.
Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.
The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.
It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.
Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.
You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.
Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.
Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.
"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.
"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."
The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.
The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.
As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.
He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.
You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.
"Is it bad?"
"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore."
And that was that.
You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.
Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.
Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.
"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"
"Yeah. I like this one."
"A little somber, isn't it?"
"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."
Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.
"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.
He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."
"What will you be wearing?"
"What I usually do."
You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."
"What about you?" He asks.
"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."
Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.
"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.
"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."
"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."
He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."
"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."
A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.
"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.
You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.
"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.
All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.
"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?
"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.
"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"
Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.
His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.
"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"
"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.
It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.
Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.
Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.
"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"
He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.
"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.
With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.
Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.
"Only for a few minutes."
You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?
That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.
You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.
You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.
Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.
And that's when you hear it.
Soft footsteps.
You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.
Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.
The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.
Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.
"I won't ask again."
Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.
"I-I'm sorry. Please."
And he smiles.
Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.
You don't understand why he's giggling right now.
He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.
"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.
As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.
Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.
"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.
"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.
"What did you do?"
"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."
Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.
"It will be okay. I love you."
You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.
"I love– I love you too."
He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.
"This does not mean I forgive you, though."
Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.
He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"
You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."
"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.
Disgust registers for only a second.
Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.
After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.
"You will not bite me this time?"
Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.
Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.
Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.
Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.
Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.
Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.
While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.
Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.
Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.
Maybe he'll get lucky again.
Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.
The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–
Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.
He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?
Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.
And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.
"Bed– B-Bedroom."
A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.
Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.
You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.
Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.
The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.
That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...
Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.
Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.
┊͙✧˖*°࿐
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reallyromealone · 9 months ago
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Title: little god
Fandom: jjk
Characters: Gojo, Geto
Fic type: fluff
Pairings: -/-
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, dragon reader, child reader, fluff, god reader
Notes: uwuwuwuwu
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
(Name) Stretched his bones as he sunbathed in a garden he found, the dragon stretched out and his scales glimmered in the sunlight.
The lawn was soft, fancy grass that felt wonderful against his scales as he huffed sleepily, eyes blinking lazily and without a worry in the world as the ribbons in his little horns swished in the gentle breeze, the gold accessories on his head and horns jingling slightly with the wind chimes in the engawa a few feet away.
Dragons couldn't be seen by normal humans so (name) often made his way into gardens or sleeping on couches or chairs... Basically the little mythical reptile did as he pleased as he scratched his little whiskered face and sneezed a little and a flower bloomed where the golden dust hit, a single orchid grew up.
"Well you aren't a cursed spirit" a voice broke out and (name) looked up to see blue eyes and immediately the small cat sized dragon jumped up startled and ran behind a decorative rock "I take it you're the little one leaving tiny paw prints in my sand garden" the man was crouched as he smiled at the dragon who glared and grumbled at him, a little baby hiss.
Who was this?
Why was he seeing him?
(Name) Was only a toddler in human years, running on instinct as he got ready for a fight.
But the human seemed unphased.
Gojo cooed at the little guy, he knew there was something living in his garden but he never thought it would be a fortune god or a baby one at that "where's your mama little one" he asked sweetly and sat down as he grabbed the pieces of chicken he grabbed when he saw the little one lounging "want some chicken?" That got the little guys attention as he chirped, the sound of little chimes could be heard as he carefully walked towards the good smelling food and before Gojo could even blink the dragon took it and ran back behind the tree.
(Name) Sniffed the chicken he took and deemed it safe and began munching on the chicken, glancing at the human periodically to make sure he didn't take it.
"You're the one whose been sneaking around eating birds, probably the one eating my koi" he teased as he watched the dragon eat the chicken happily before coming back for more, batting his snoot against his hand "I got plenty of chicken and even some salmon inside if you want some" he offered the dragon who let himself be lifted up as he ate more chicken from the white haired human, very food driven indeed.
Gojo noticed a gold charm on the dragons forehead, (name), inscribed on it and the man hummed as they got more food for the little guy.
He loved watching (name), he was absolutely hilarious and precious!
(Name) Liked to do his own little thing, mainly fight his own shadow and chase bugs but he did his own thing regardless.
He had to show Geto!
"So you found a dragon..." Geto said as they watched (name) eat his new balanced diet, little face messy "you know he won't be a dragon fully forever right?" He said and Gojo shrugged "I'm his dad now, currently he eats raw chicken hearts and salmon but when he's bigger he can have tempura and rice" he said simply as (name) blinked up at them before trotting off "he does his own thing" Gojo said simply and Geto worried for Gojos... Could it even be seen as parenting?
He definitely had to keep an eye on this situation.
The following days went daily smooth as Gojo took time off to be with his new son, (name) having morning zoomies in the yard before breakfast and a nap, the sorcerer doing some work from home as the dragon slept in his lap, imprinting hard on him.
But the dragon would often wonder off, vanishing for periods of time before eventually returning and Gojo decided to follow him.
(Name) Was weirdly interested in under Gojos bed, the man had no clue why though until he looked under to find things from his jewelry to coins to soft blankets, all on top of the fluffy dog bed Gojo got his little buddy "there's my Rolex..." Gojo grumbled but let the little guy keep it, clearly he was very happy with it all.
Something Gojo noticed as well was he would have random coins in his pockets in pants, better hair days and he was feeling better and it wasn't until he saw his little... Son? Yeah son! Drop coins in his shoes and pockets and golden dust sprinkled on his mask after the dragon finished cuddling it "do you do have a bit of magic in ya" gojo lifted the dragon up whose hind legs curled up and his long tail curled between his legs, little head tilt before sneezing gold dust on his face.
"Gross"
Bling!
Setting (name) down he checked his phone to see that meeting he was planning on being late too was cancelled "why thank you, son" Gojo pet the dragons little head and chuckled when he aggressively kicked his leg and leaned in to the touch.
Gojo did his research, Jujutsu sorcerer's kept documentation on God's and such, wasn't the first time they saw one and won't be the last and realized he would need to be ready for when he stopped being a little dragon full time and quickly grabbed his laptop and ordered away.
Gojo set up a bedroom for his adoptive dragon son, a toddler bed and toys that the little one played with kind of.
The room had everything he could need and even got pull-ups in case the kid couldn't figure out toilets.
Should he get a nanny?
Maybe he should look into that... And a tutor... His kid was not cut for public education.
It wasn't until four months in that he got woken to a tiny little hand, eyes snapping open to see a tiny face with big (color) eyes and scales that framed bits of his cheeks and forehead "papa, breakfast!" He said impatiently and gojo realized that this random child was the dragon he took in, the tiny tail swishing at the boy wore traditional clothes lined with gold "yeah? And what does my son want today?" He teased as he got up and lifted the boy into his arms, blessed energy radiating off him like an eclipse "hot dog!"
"A hot dog for breakfast? Thats not breakfast!" It was weird how easy he fell into the role of dad, making his son eggs and hot dogs as compromise and the boy devoured it happily.
Gojo was thankful he had the forethought to get the boy more clothes though the tot leaned towards more traditional robes than anything and Gojo assumed it had something to do with being a god.
"Fancy clothes for my fancy son" he said as he had the seamstress he typically went to put together a bunch of robes for the boy, his little one was so cute!
Geto came by frequently, (name) plenty used to him as the boy ate fancy chicken nuggets as his tail swished lazily "why is he dressed like royalty?"
"Why do you dress like a monk?"
"Touche"
"You know you can't hide him from the elders forever right?" Geto worried for the boy, the elders were assholes who would exploit the fact that the little one was the literal god of fortune, having done some research to find that (name) goes through "rebirth" periods, once he gets too old he just reverses his age and starts new, he wondered if he retained his memories....
"I would love for them to try" Gojo said coldly, a smile on his face as he pat his sons head fondly, the boy grinning at his dad and offering him some of his half eaten nugget "papas full, little man" he rejected kindly and (name) resumed eating as the adults spoke.
(Name) Was just happy to have more meat, Gojo always having the best food especially for the literal only other Gojo family member (if you try to tell him (name) wasn't you would be turned to a fine mist by the blue eyed man) who looked at him like he hung the stars and painted the moon.
"Oh? What's up?" Gojo asked and Geto looked confused as (name) suddenly handed him a few coins "he just has those" Gojo shrugged and Geto raised an eyebrow "he keeps using his magic to summon coins, he keeps giving them to the fridge though..." (Name) Practically worshipped the fridge, the tiny god hugging it often and mumbling "chicken..." Happily as Gojo took pictures of the little goober.
"Though he has granted a wish" Gojo said softly as Geto looked shocked, looking back at the tot who was full and sleepy, a soggy nugget in his hand "what did he grant?" He asked curiously and Gojo sipped his tea "he saw something on tv, I was watching the news and there was a report on a missing dog and the man looked distressed" setting his cup down and taking off his glasses as he continued '(name) touched the tv and poof, the dog was running to his owner" Geto still couldn't grasp the fact that he was sitting before a literal god, the god of fortune no less.
A being that could completely alter reality but all he wanted was chicken and getting to chase birds.
Eventually Geto left and Gojo brought his son for his afternoon nap, a stuffed lucky cat in his arms as he snoozed.
It was weird for Gojo to sit and think about the fact he was a dad... To a fucking dragon god!
But it was worth it because (name) was odd yes, but he looked at Gojo like he was his dad.
It's why he used his standing to put together papers so (name) would be a Gojo legally.
Now he just had to make sure the Zenin clan didn't go near him.
1K notes · View notes
wstviewvidal · 3 months ago
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goodbye- w. maximoff
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pairing: fwb!wanda x reader
summary: wanda tries to mend what was broken
a/n: here is the last installment of my first story, breakfast birthday goodbye! thank you all so much for the support you’ve shown the first two parts as well as the hc’s! it means the world to meeeeeee i love u guys soooo much!
minors do not interact
wanda never meant for everything to go down the way it did. scratch that, she never wanted any of this to happen. the ignored calls, the short texts, you avoiding her at your group’s weekly dinner.
she didn’t want that at all, and it was eating at her insides knowing that you are out there somewhere thinking that she wanted nothing to do with you, that she wasn’t serious about you.
it was the exact opposite, actually. you never leave her mind and she often finds herself texting you with random updates throughout her day just so she can end up calling you and hearing about whatever you have to say.
but now it’s been a week since the party and you’ve yet to actually have a full conversation with her. you don’t text her, only replying to her with a short and simple response when she sends you a message first.
she’s lost countless hours of sleep and finds it hard to make herself eat normal meals. the bags under her eyes have darkened and she’s become a hollow shell of herself, one she can’t even recognize in the mirror. everyone’s noticed it too, and it’s getting hard to ignore.
wanda prides herself on her incredible work ethic and her ability to do her job well beyond expectations, but for the past week even her team at work has noticed that she’s been off her a-game.
wanda hasn’t slept, and you could tell. she’s avoided every every attempt to rest or eat. only throwing herself into her work, which was futile because in the back of her mind was you. the ache of losing you and know you were out there hating her.
it’s gotten to the point where her boss has offered her to take the rest of the week off to recuperate over whatever happened that pushed her down. bad thing is, wanda said no and now she’s stuck thinking about you at her desk.
she turned down the offer, ignoring how badly her body is begging her to take the rest. work is the only thing keeping her mind off of you— or at least trying to.
she can’t get the look on your face out of her mind. the look at showed everything. the way your body looks exhausted, as if it had been fighting. worst of all, she saw every ounce of hurt in your eyes— it confirmed everything.
the look in your eyes, the hurt in your voice, the way you avoided her for the rest of the night at the party.
that’s how she knew you loved her back. and that was meant to be your final act of love— leaving her.
but wanda wouldn’t accept that.
wanda thinks of her future often. how she wants to open up her own firm, how she wants to have a decent sized house— no more than twenty minutes away from the city, the amount of kids she wants to have, you, you, you.
in every different imaginable scenario she’s imagined for herself, in every different future she’s envisioned, you’re always there. there’s no version of herself she can imagine without you.
which is why she’s suddenly found herself outside of your house in the middle of a thunderstorm at 8 at night.
she knew this was inappropriate and a setup for failure but she couldn’t go another hour not at least trying. she’s gone too many days with her anxiety eating away at her.
she knew that you loved her— hell, you basically confessed it to her the night you were drunk in her car. it’s been so long since then and she’s had to watch you date other people despite having confessed your true feelings.
so, logically, wanda had to force herself to ignore the confession and start to date other people as well.
but wanda knew they could never be you. no matter how hard she tried to make herself like the other girls, she always wished it was you she was holding at night— not them
as wanda stood outside your gate, she couldn’t help but recall when she went to go see you at work after you broke up with a fling.
and unfortunately for wanda, this was after you confessed. she had to sit there and console your crying eyes all while knowing the both of you had reciprocating feelings for the other.
wanda parked her car a few spots away from the main entrance and fixed her appearance before grabbing the takeout food she had brought for the two of you to share.
she sat in her car for a few minutes, trying to focus on her breathing and calming the nerves in her body. trying to rehearse things to say to say to you in front of her mirror, she looks over her appearance and fixes her makeup slightly.
i mean, what is she supposed to say to the girl she’s in love with who just broke up with someone she was dating? yay, now let’s get together? no. wanda had to be a supportive friend— no matter how badly she ached for more.
getting out of her car, she slowly walks up to the main entrance. as she walks in, she’s hit with the familiar smell of the air freshener the company uses and it gives her a small boost of confidence.
stopping to say hi to natasha before going into your office, she greets her.
“hey nat,” wanda says softly while peering into natasha’s office.
both wanda and natasha were familiar with each other through you and had no issue having conversations without your company, they were comfortable with each other.
natasha looks up from her work and up to wanda, a slight surprised smile on her face. she had a feeling wanda would show up for you, just unsure of when.
“hey,” she replies, “she’s in her office. she could really use the pick me up.”
wanda nods in understanding, “i know, she’s been down recently. brought her some food in case she needed it.”
natasha smirks softly and whispers lowly, “if you’re going to continue being a girlfriend to her, you need to make it official before somebody else does.”
wanda freezes. did natasha know about you two? surely you wouldn’t tell her anything, but why else would she say that?
wanda gives an awkward chuckle and walks off in the direction of your office, replaying natasha’s words and how she had a knowing look on her face as she said that.
slowly peering into your office, she knocks softly, “hey, pretty girl”
looking away from your desktop, you see wanda dressed in your college t-shirt and a pair of jeans while holding a takeout box from one of your favorite restaurants.
your heart swoons at the pet name, as well as the smile on her face. this isn’t the first time wanda’s shown up to your job unannounced. in fact, she does this at least a few times out of the month.
she insisted that it was her biggest priority to make sure you were taken care of.
she walks over to your desk and gives you a small kiss on the forehead and a rub on the back.
“you feeling okay?” wanda’s voice is laced with concern and love. it filled your stomach with butterflies.
truth is, you were actually feeling content after the break up. you constantly felt a weight on your chest while you were in that relationship. really, you could hardly call it a relationship. it lasted less than a month and you were happy it was over.
everytime you two went out, you always thought about how wanda would be acting if if was her you went out with instead. no matter what, you always had her in the back of your mind and you felt guilty for it.
shrugging softly, you lean into wanda’s side, enjoying how she’s giving you this soft attention. you really should be honest with her and tell her you’re fine but the fact that she’s being so sweet and attentive, it really makes you want to play into this facade just so she can continue being sweet to you. wanda tightened her hold on you and cooed softly.
wanda knew though. normally when you’re down and out of it, you hardly ever do your makeup. the way you speak is a bit more dragged out, the way you even look at her is different when you’re down.
wanda knew you were okay the second she got close to you, but how could she pass up an opportunity like this to hold you? she would take any excuse to touch you and make you feel happy. she knew she was in love with you, has known it for quite some time now. however, acting on it is a whole other story.
“i got you some food,” wanda runs her fingers through your hair softly, “i want to make sure you eat.”
wanda watches you as you nod softly and look up at her with a happy look on your face. yeah, she’s in love with you. no doubt about it.
you can’t help but immediately let out a soft giggle as you see how she looks at you. you two have known each other for years and she never fails to make you feel cared for.
what would it be like if you two stopped dancing around your feelings for each other?
wanda pulls out the food and you can’t help but swoon all over again. wanda knew your order, down to what you want put on the side instead of in the dish, even the sauces and other condiments. no one has ever known you like this.
the two of you ate for the next hour and a half. you asked her how work was going, her brother, what she’s doing for the holidays. the rest of the world ceased to exist for that hour and a half, and it didn’t feel like a lunch break. it felt like something you could get used to doing at home together.
the two of you existed in each others presence for that lunch break. maybe that was when you realized you truly were in love with her. or maybe it was an accumulation of things, but after that day you knew for a fact that wanda could be the one for you.
wanda walked slowly to your front door, her feet feeling heavy. she could hear her heartbeat, she could feel the blood moving around in her body. hell, she swears she can even feel her white blood cells. for the first time since she’s known you, she was terrified of speaking to you.
the rain soaked through her clothes and clung to her body. her usual soft brown hair was now black and matted with all of the rain water in it. she was freezing, but she didn’t care. each drop that fell onto her body only served as a reminder of all the things she’d never said to you.
every instinct in her was telling her to turn around and bolt, to run and not look back.
but the rational side of her told her that it was now or never. this was her last chance. if she ran, she’d never see you again.
she knew that the longer you two went without talking, the more likely it is that you’ll shut down and block out every memory with wanda from your mind. she knew that she needed to talk to you— and it had to be now.
before getting to your house, she stopped by a near by store to get you flowers. this wasn’t the first time she’d done so. in fact, the florist practically knew all about her love for you since it was all wanda could talk about when she went to go pick up your customized bouquet.
this time, however, it was terrifying knowing that there was a chance that this could be the last time she’d be giving you flowers. she knew you were stubborn and once you sat in your thoughts for too long, there was no way of getting you to turn back on it.
had wanda waited too long to speak to you? are you going to turn her away once she gets to your front door? is this going to be the last time she would see you again?
wanda stands in front of your door way, looking disheveled and drenched in rain. the roses she bought for you look worse for wear, but she couldn’t imagine coming to you empty handed. she needed to have something in her hand to help calm her nerves at least.
by the time she’d reached your door, she was shaking. but not out of cold, out of fear and desperation.
knocking on your door, wanda’s heartbeat quickens and for a split second she considers bolting and never coming back.
but the door opens.
and there you are, and somehow in the midst of all the chaos between you two, wanda thinks you look as beautiful as ever.
you look at wanda with an incredulous look, almost telling yourself you’re imagining her here at your doorstep.
you start, “wanda, i don’t think th-“
“no,” wanda says sharply, almost too firm and pushes past you and into your house. her breathing is shallow. it wasn’t from the rain though, it was from the years of unspoken truths, missed opportunities. she needed it out in the air.
wanda’s tone and demeanor momentarily stun you. she has always bent on anything you say and rarely interrupted you when you spoke.
after slowly closing the door behind her, you follow her further into your house. your heart is beating and you can’t help that worry she may get sick being drenched in all the rain.
wanda now is in the middle of your living pacing from one end of the room to the other, clutching drenched and withered red roses in her hands. she looks like she’s on the verge of passing out and you’re immediately worried that she very well could drop on your floor.
“wanda, i think you need to sit down.. let be get you a towel,” you say softly while waking towards her slowly, like she was a cat that could run off at any second.
“no,” she says quickly, now stopping and facing you, “you don’t get to kick me out or walk away this time. you can’t shut me out, not after everything. i know i hurt you— us, but i can’t just walk away without telling you everything.”
wanda rushes her words out, but not faltering once in her firm presence. her voice is laced with desperation and you can literally see her hands shaking.
you can hear a small waver in her voice, one youre not used to. wanda’s body language screams terrified and anxious, but her eyes scream with something much louder: resolve.
you can’t help try to hold back a smile at how you can see the emotion in her eyes. wanda’s eyes speak so much louder than her voice could ever, and you have always loved it so much. it’s how you two could communicate with one another from across the room.
you stand silent and nod, unsure of what to do.
“i understand how it looked. at the party, i mean. the girl there wasn’t anyone i knew, or even want to get to know for that matter. it was just a way to help me pass the time at the party, no matter how nasty that sounds,” wanda begins rambling and you can slowly see the confidence wear off. she pinches the bridge of her nose. this was already off to a bad start.
she had practiced this so many times over the past three hours and none of it was coming out how she wanted it to.
“she wasn’t you,” her voice breaks softly and her words make you freeze.
your heart beat quickens. what does she mean? maybe she’s just trying to make nice and keep the agreement going, it can’t mean that you think it means.
you try to interrupt her, “wanda-“
“i said let me ta-“
you raise your voice and look at her pointedly, “you are in my home and i will speak if i choose.”
wanda feels like a child being scolded.
with a soft and gentle voice, you apologize, “that night, my birthday. seeing you with that girl made me realize we’ve had this whole friends with benefits thing go on too long. it’s gotten in the way of our personal lives and for the sake of our future partners, we need to cut it off.”
you force it out, not sounding confident at all. although you had put much thought into it, it pained you to say it aloud to her. to watch her face drop, to actually see how your words affected her.
tears well in wanda’s eyes, spilling over with a soft, heartbroken cry. this wasn’t what she came here for. she didn’t come here so you could shut her down before even trying to tell you she loved you.
shaking her head and clearing her throat, wanda walks closer to you.
“you don’t get to cut this off without at least having a proper conversation with me,” wanda chokes out through sobs, wiping her tears angrily, “you can’t just throw me away like that.. please”
the silence between the two of you causes the atmosphere in the room to thicken.
hearing her pleading voice, the way she’s gripping onto your shoulders tightly as it’s the last time she’ll touch or see you again— you can’t help but try to fight tears.
in fact, it very well may be the last.
you shake your head, you had thought this over and realized that if wanda didn’t reciprocate the same feelings for you— it’s best if you let her go.
it had become a never ending cycle of stringing you along with no end in sight.
but if it meant nothing to wanda, why would she be here begging and crying for you?
haphazardly, you throw caution to the wind and decide that if this is the last night you’ll see wanda, you may as well lay it all on the table.
you pull away from wanda, raising your voice slightly, “do you have any idea what it took for me to finally accept that this, us, would be a never ending cycle? that it’s only a game of almost? i can’t keep waiting for you, for someone who’s just going to treat me like a place holder for another girl who won’t even last a month and a half?!”
you swallow tears and try your best to sound as firm as possible, “i sat around for all this time just watching you be with other people. giving them the affection i so badly wish you would reserve only for me.”
wanda’s eyebrows furrow at your insinuation that she only every treated you like a pit stop.
anger builds inside and she can’t help but scoff, “are you fucking kidding me? i treated you like a place holder? there’s no way you’re being serious right now.”
her scoff and rough voice cause you to turn back on your heel, defensiveness and frustration seeping through your veins.
“yeah, a goddamn pit stop, wanda. you came around, got me fucking wrapped around your finger and made me fa-,” you almost said it, “you had me wrapped around your finger. i was always there when you called, like a damn fool!”
wanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. you were acting like she was some kind of person who viewed you as a fool. she was helplessly in love with you, and this is what you saw her as.
running a hand through her hair in hopes of helping herself calm down, she exclaims, “do you really think this was one sided?! i had to watch you date other people too! i wasn’t the only one who dated! after that time you got drunk and i had to take care of you, i couldn’t stop thinking about you saying you wished we could be more! and then i had to carry on with my life like you hadn’t told me you wanted something more with me.”
wanda swallows hard before the words spill out—the night you told her you wanted more. she never wanted to tell you about that night, for fear of running you off.
it was now or never, she had to tell you.
you freeze, what night is she talking about? the weight of her words finally hit you, and it feels like the world has shifted. you search her face, like the answer you’re searching for is written on her forehead.
wanda sighs and rubs her face, “i’m sorry. you got drunk a while back and told me you wanted more. i never told you because i knew it would send you running off, and i couldn’t bare the thought of losing you. it was better to have you like this, no matter how much it hurt, than to not have you at all.”
the rain seemed to be the only sound in the house. the soft thuds of the branches outside hitting the side of the roof are all you two can hear. you stare at each other, for the first time with uncertainty as to what’s next for you two.
wanda walks slowly closer, stopping a few feet in front of you, “do you really think i wanted this to be one sided? i thought that by holding back and keeping my feelings to myself, it was the only way i’d still be able to have you in my life.”
you stare at her as you slowly understand what she’s trying to say. she loved you back.
“i never wanted you to feel that way,” barely above a whisper, “and i’m so sorry that i made you feel that way. it was never my intention to make you feel like you were anything other than my first priority. i only every wanted you, only you. i found myself looking for you in every person i met because i was afraid that if i told you i loved you, you’d run away. if having you meant keeping my feelings to myself, i would make that sacrifice because i couldn’t fathom the thought of you. no longer being in my life.”
you stay silent, her words echoing in your head. wanda loved you back? you can see her hands shaking and the insecurity in her eyes. her hands are shaking and the petals on the roses are falling off slowly with the weight of the water droplets on them.
following your eyes, wanda remembers she got you roses.
she speaks softly, almost afraid to speak to you, “i brought you these. i’m sorry they’re not that pretty, they got kind of messed up with the rain and me squeezing them so tight.”
wanda speaks nervously, shyly and you can’t help but frown at her demeanor. she’s no longer the confident person you know. right now she looks like an insecure woman who’s been rejected by someone she’s been in love with for years.
you gently reach out for the flowers, still shocked by the revelation wanda’s revealed to you in the matter of fifteen minutes.
you hardly register that she’s leaving your home with a new weight on her chest and an empty feeling in her heart.
wanda took your silence as the final answer she’d been dreading. rejection. wanda thinks you don’t love her back. the silence in the room weighed on her like a death sentence and she was forced to walk away— heartbroken and alone.
the sound of her car door being shut pulls you out of your stupor and you realize what this means— what wanda’s departure means.
this can’t be the end.
with adrenaline coursing through you, you throw the door open. you rush out of your house and just before she leaves your drive way, you call out for her.
wanda, as if hoping you’d chase her, drives her car back into your drive way and parks. wanda looks anywhere but you, as if afraid the next thing you’ll tell her is to never come back. her hands grip at her steering wheel tight enough to the point her knuckles turned white. she’s terrified.
stepping outside of her car, she walks up to you. her hands are shaking and you can see that her eyes are red rimmed from all the crying she’s done tonight.
your voice is hoarse from the yelling and crying as well, “i’m sorry. i’m sorry it took this long to tell you and im sorry for accusing you of treating me like nothing. wanda, i love you too— i always have. i was terrified of you not feeling the same way so i forced myself to ignore it. i was wrong, i was wrong about everything.”
wanda’s breath stops and her eyes well up with tears again, “please don’t lie to me just for the sake of my emotions.”
you shake your head insistently, “i’m being honest, i swear on everything i love. i love you, i have for a while. i was just scared and i didn’t know you felt the same way.”
“you love me?” wanda’s voice is shaking and she can’t tell if she’s dreaming or already getting sick from standing in the rain for too long.
nodding with a nervous smile, you don’t care about the rain soaking your clothes or the lighting in the sky. all that matters is that you tell wanda how you feel. before time runs out and you lose her for good.
wanda inhales sharply, a look of relief washing over and she lets out a soft laugh. a trembling hand cautiously reaches for your face as her eyes flooded with relief.
“i was scared,” she says through a wet laugh, “i thought that you would run if i told you i was in love with you.. but if you’ll let me, i swear i won’t ever make you feel like a second priority again. you’ve always been the most important thing in my life and i never want you to feel like anything else.”
her words hit you like a rush of warmth, contrasting against the cold rain surrounding you two. you smile widely, your heart overjoyed with the fact that wanda did love you as you did her.
you laugh— a genuine laugh, and before she can get another word out, you pull her into you. you couldn’t waste another second before connecting your lips.
when you two meet, it’s like everything clicked. all the chaos, all the flings, every person annoying you two about getting together, it meant nothing now that you two expressed what you’d been hiding.
you rest your forehead against wanda’s and whisper softly, “we’ve got a lot to figure out now, but this means we’ll do it together.”
wanda nods with a small smile as she looks at you, “yeah, together.”
as you two stand there, both laughing at the dramatics of it all, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, one you’ve held for years. wanda was finally yours and you knew then and there that all of the missed opportunities and lack of truths only led you to her.
ignoring the messiness and the lack of perfection, it was real.
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